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Showing posts sorted by date for query RUSSIAN REVOLUTION. Sort by relevance Show all posts

Sunday, September 27, 2026

 

Op-Ed: Oil shock raises risk of metals shock as EV sales accelerate


Stock image.

 (The opinions expressed here are those of Andy Home, a columnist for Reuters)

The oil shock caused by the Iran war is re-charging the electric vehicle (EV) market as high gasoline and diesel prices stimulate consumer demand for alternatives.

Economics is becoming as powerful a driver of EV sales as government subsidies and green ideology, particularly in countries most exposed to the loss of oil and gas supply from the Gulf.

This has huge implications for both the oil and metal markets, particularly for critical EV inputs such as lithium, nickel and copper.

Metal bulls lost interest in the EV story a couple of years ago after reality failed to live up to the early hype. Grid storage and data centers are now the hot talking-points for lithium and copper markets, respectively.

But wars in both the Middle East and Ukraine are acting as powerful accelerators of the green transport revolution.

Polar opposites

At a headline level, nothing very much appears to be happening in the EV sector. Global sales of new energy vehicles grew by just 4% year-on-year from January to August, according to consultancy Benchmark Mineral Intelligence (BMI).

That pedestrian growth rate, however, masks wildly differing regional markets.

US President Donald Trump’s elimination of his predecessor’s subsidy scheme has sent the country’s EV sector into steep decline. Sales in August were down 33% year-on-year, bringing the year-to-date contraction to 21%.

US auto manufacturers have pivoted back to conventional engines, cancelling planned investment in new electric models and battery supply chains.

China is another weak spot. The world’s largest EV market saw sales shrink by 12% year-on-year in the January-August period.

But this should be seen in the context of a broader downturn in the domestic vehicle market, which registered a 24% year-on-year drop in total passenger vehicle sales in August. The EV segment of the market has fared relatively well, and the new energy vehicle penetration rate hit a new high of 65% last month.

Not that China’s auto companies are too concerned anyway.

They are exporting record amounts of EVs to the rest of the world.

European sales jumped by 36% year-on-year in August, with year-to-date growth running at 29% as high pump prices combine with government subsidy schemes.

But the most spectacular growth is outside the big three markets. EV sales in the rest of the world have doubled so far this year, according to BMI.

Cost pressures

On a total cost-of-ownership basis, battery EVs have already reached price parity with traditional internal combustion engine vehicles in China, according to analysts at consultancy Wood Mackenzie.

The flood of low-priced Chinese exports at a time of high gasoline prices is rapidly closing the gap in other Asian markets.

But, equally critically, consumer perceptions are changing. For many, buying an EV is no longer a commitment to the green cause but rather an economic choice.

Wood Mackenzie has modeled what it calls an “electric shock” scenario, in which high oil prices both accelerate consumer adoption of battery-powered vehicles and stimulate governments to prioritise reducing fossil-fuel reliance.

With battery performance continuously improving and EV costs falling, a structural shift in the passenger vehicle market could arrive much faster than expected.

The longer the Iran war grinds on and the longer Ukraine targets Russian oil refineries, the more likely that scenario becomes.

Metal stress

If the EV sector is shifting out of the slow lane, it will mean more pressure on already stressed metal supply chains.

Wood Mackenzie assesses that there will be enough metal to meet even accelerated EV demand but — and it’s a big “but” — only if investment in new production capacity is scaled up at the same rate.

Under the company’s shock scenario, copper demand would only grow by an incremental 2% relative to a base-case scenario that assumes global EV sales keep growing at a modest 4% annual pace.

But that means additional new mine capacity would have to rise from the long-term average of 850,000 metric tons per year to 960,000 tons between 2025 and 2040.

Lithium demand would grow by an extra 14% with availability complicated by China’s dominant control of the global supply chain.

Over the last decade, EV metal markets have struggled to match supply with demand, generating a sequence of price booms and busts.

It’s quite possible they’re going to get wrong-footed again as EV sales accelerate just about everywhere outside the US.

The irony is that while the Trump administration has stalled the US transition to vehicle electrification, it has inadvertently persuaded much of the rest of the world that it is time to go green.

Saturday, September 26, 2026

‘To create model social institutions’: The international Communist Women’s Movement, reproductive labor and the politics of care, 1920–1936

March 8 Soviet poster

First published at Red Threads.

Founded in 1920 as the women’s organization of the Communist International (Comintern), the Communist Women’s Movement (CWM) fought for complete gender equality and the full integration of women into economic, political, and social life. The movement viewed women’s emancipation as an integral element of socialist transformation. Some of the international campaigns that the CWM carried out in its early years concerned primarily working women (which included industrial women workers, housewives, intellectuals, peasants, and servants), such as the struggle for women’s participation in politics, labor rights, and unionization. Among the CWM’s central objectives was the socialization of housework and care, which Communist women conceptualized as the “social economy.”1 This implied complete rethinking and reorganization of reproductive labor and, more broadly, social reproduction.

The following analysis is anchored in CWM’s programmatic documents and unexplored discussions within the CWM’s central executive body, the International Women’s Secretariat (IWS).2 It looks into some internationally coordinated campaigns led by Communist women in the 1920s and 1930s in Europe and beyond around the socialization of housework, care, and state-supported motherhood. I argue that from 1920 onward, Communist women pioneered efforts to link social reproduction to women’s unwaged labor and care work.3 Communist women discussed the economic and social conditions necessary for mothers and families, attentive to class, ethnic, and racial inequalities. This way they formulated core principles of intersectionality and reproductive justice before these frameworks entered mainstream feminist discourse.

This article begins by analyzing the CWM’s conceptualization of housework and care — through policies that were strikingly avant-garde for the 1920s, yet subsequently formed the foundation of post-WWII welfare states worldwide. It then traces how these concepts intersected with their revolutionary vision of motherhood. By shedding light on differences between Communist and Socialist positions, this study demonstrates how the CWM navigated the ideological intricacies of the Comintern’s Left Turn and Popular Front while remaining faithful to the earlier conceptualizations of reproductive labor and working motherhood.

‘Transform the housewife from a slave of the small individual economy into a free toiler in the larger social economy’:4 The CWM’s early vision of reproductive labor

While discussing housework and care, the CWM proposed a concrete plan of transformation of reproductive labor into a socialized industry. Communist women integrated this plan into their programmatic document — “Guidelines for the Communist Women’s Movement” — discussed and elaborated at their founding conference held in Moscow in 1920. This conference brought together over fifty Communist women delegates from Europe, Asia, and North America.5 The initial draft of the “Guidelines” was prepared by Clara Zetkin, a leading German Communist, women’s rights advocate, and from 1920 the de facto head of the IWS, in advance of the 1920 conference. After delegate discussion, it was amended later that year by a specially appointed commission headed by Zetkin. Among many other points, the “Guidelines” urged the transformation of housekeeping, characterized as “the most backward, deformed, and stultifying of the old guild handicrafts” into “the general social economy.”6

Delegates at the first conference were also very enthusiastic about the Soviet experience as, since the October 1917 revolution, the Bolshevik government had acknowledged housework as a major means of women’s subordination. Lenin spoke about how paid work and housework kept women “in a state of double slavery.”7 Alexandra Kollontai, a prominent Russian revolutionary and women’s rights activist, one of the founders of the Soviet Zhenotdel (Women’s Department of the Soviet Communist Party) and the CWM, who in 1917 became the first female minister in history, wrote in 1920: “The individual household is dying. It is giving way in our society to collective housekeeping. Instead of the working woman cleaning her flat, the communist society can arrange for men and women whose job it is to go around in the morning cleaning rooms.”8 Soviet authorities set up public amenities offering different kinds of services (child day care, public kitchens, canteens, communal laundries and cleaning facilities, etc.), although their funding often represented a challenge.

Communist women from outside the Soviet Union spoke about the necessity to elaborate a concrete plan to ease the traditional burden of women in newly socialist countries as well as in capitalist ones. The “Guidelines” analyzed housekeeping as a form of reproductive labor used in capitalism to keep men’s wages low (since the labor of housewives was unpaid) and women intellectually and politically backward by blocking their participation in society. Referring to the Soviet context, the “Guidelines” further insisted on the “creat[ion of] model social institutions that take over women’s economic tasks in the family,” fully involving women themselves in the development of such measures and the creation of relevant infrastructure.9 For women in capitalist (and precapitalist) countries, the “Guidelines” suggested striving for the establishment of similar institutions.

The idea of socializing housework and care was not new in the socialist world. In fact, a few socialist theoreticians had discussed the necessity to liberate women from housekeeping or care labor. August Bebel, in Women under Socialism (1879) promoted radical goals that encompassed the overthrow of patriarchy in domestic spaces. Friedrich Engels expressed similar ideas in his Origin of the Family, Private Property, and the State (1884). However, the CWM’s attention to women’s unpaid care work as directly linked to women’s emancipation was novel in a socialist policy document; it was not present, for example, in the Second (Socialist) International’s program. In this way, the Communist program put “the woman question” at the very center of the socialist project, underlining that women’s emancipation — in both the public and private spheres — was not merely a consequence, but the very goal of socialist transformation.

‘To ease, supplement and improve the work of mothers’: The CWM’s early policies on motherhood, family, and care

Housekeeping and unpaid care work were linked to a revolutionary rethinking of motherhood by Communist women. The CWM’s “Guidelines” rejected the “old petty-bourgeois” view of childrearing as women’s sole calling. Throughout the 1920s, most CWM sections and leaders supported the freedom of choice to have or not to have children and protested anti-abortion laws which were prevalent in most countries across Europe and beyond. Yet Communist women sought to enable the combination of motherhood and work through institutionalized state aid.

Clara Zetkin advocated state support for mothers, seeing motherhood as strengthening the proletarian state. She favored protective labor laws, hospitals, and maternity provisions. Alexandra Kollontai was a long-time supporter of state assistance to mothers, independently of their marital status. Her 1916 Society and Motherhood defined childbearing as a social responsibility, to be shared between the family and society. Kollontai exposed the stark class divide in how motherhood was treated under capitalism, contrasting the protection afforded to bourgeois women with the brutal exploitation of working-class mothers. She argued that the state was to assume collective responsibility for maternal welfare through paid maternity leave, workplace protections, material benefits, and socialization of childcare, all of which she linked to communist social transformation. Kollontai drew inspiration from August Bebel but also the Russian revolutionary democrat Nikolai Dobrolyubov and such feminists as Lily Braun or Helene Stöcker.10 Kollontai argued that both the mother and the socialized institutions were to ensure the children’s wellbeing. In 1918, as Minister of Social Welfare, she played a key role in shaping Soviet decrees that legally safeguarded motherhood and introduced socialized childcare. Other Soviet decrees reinforced the position of women in the family: women’s divorce rights, civil marriage, and equal status for “legitimate” and “illegitimate” children.

The CWM followed this example, integrating into its “Guidelines” the state’s duty to harmonize motherhood with employment outside of the home via public care institutions for maternity, children, and youth. The CWM also drew on the Soviet Labor Code to advance ambitious demands for working mothers outside the Soviet Union. Throughout the 1920s, they campaigned in most European countries for nine months of postnatal benefits, medically supervised deliveries, sixteen weeks of maternity leave, a six-hour day for nursing mothers with possibility to breastfeed at work, and free daycare/school amenities.11

Although many of the CWM’s demands were more radical than those of socialists and social democrats in Europe and beyond, up until 1928, the CWM often organized campaigns in collaboration with socialist women. Many of the latter shared CWM’s vision — albeit, and hélas, most of these campaigns were unsuccessful. This collaboration was in line with the united front policy that the Comintern had adopted in 1921. It called for common action with reformist organizations and trade unions, in specific, limited fights around the defense of workers’ immediate interests. Although many Communist women and men, especially outside of Soviet Union, initially criticized this policy, by 1922 Comintern sections around the world embraced it without abandoning the perspective of world revolution altogether. The CWM’s leadership and Zetkin, in particular, supported the united front strategy, for which she was severely criticized within the German Communist Party.

No Kinder, Küche, Kirche: Communist and socialist diverging visions of motherhood and care

Collaboration with socialists, however, had always been fragile due to major ideological differences between revolutionaries and reformists. It became particularly problematic after the Comintern’s Left Turn of 1928, during the so-called Third Period (1928–34) — the third phase in the post-World War I development of capitalist countries. In Comintern discourse, the Third Period followed revolutionary upheaval and capitalist stabilization, defined by sharper contradictions, economic crisis, and working-class radicalization. This analysis compelled a global “Left Turn” ending the united front with non-communist forces. Events in 1926–27 seemed to confirm this course: the Chinese revolution’s defeat, Britain’s severance of ties with the USSR, Austrian Social Democrats ignoring a communist general strike call, and the dissolution of the Anglo-Russian Trade Union Committee, all suggested the moderate left had turned its back on the “Reds.” The Left Turn thus reflected communist experiences in a hostile political context. The Sixth Comintern Congress (July–August 1928) officially adopted this policy, urging greater mobilization and radicalization against social democrats labeled “social-fascists.” The new policy profoundly affected communists around the world throughout 1928 and 1929. Internal discipline intensified, leading to expulsions across several parties, though the CWM saw weaker impact. Overall, the Left Turn weakened the Left in many European countries, although it did have successes in some national contexts, especially outside of Europe.12

The 1928 break with Socialists was not the first one either. Socialist and Communist women had been part of the same socialist movement and shared many radical ideas before the general split that occurred after the outbreak of World War I. For instance, at the Copenhagen Conference of Socialist Women, organized in 1910 by Clara Zetkin, delegates agreed to demand four months of paid maternity leave. Socialist women then also appeared more unified on the issue of abortion, the need to oppose anti-abortion laws, and the practice of illegal abortions. However, many (though not all) Socialist women gradually shifted toward less radical visions of motherhood, state support for mothers and families, care, as well as reproductive rights, as discussed below.

These differences between Socialist and Communist women became particularly acute with the Comintern’s Left Turn. The questions of reproductive labor and reproductive rights were among the core points of division. At an IWS meeting in Moscow on 4 September 1928, held shortly after the Comintern adopted its new policy, women delegates from the Zhenotdel and communist parties of Yugoslavia, Germany, and Britain discussed the recent conference of the Labor and Socialist International (LSI) held on 3-4 August 1928 in Brussels. The CWM’s report highlighted that, differently from Communist women, very few LSI delegates addressed the question of unpaid reproductive labor done by women or the right to abortion. Furthermore, they pointed out that the proposed socialist policies were far less radical than those of the CWM, and issues like reproductive autonomy, equality for “illegitimate” children, and paid maternity leave proved highly divisive. Yet, the CWM report recognized that the resolution of the LSI conference did incorporate (albeit in a vague form) several demands already implemented in the Soviet Union and promoted by the CWM elsewhere. These were: state support for mothers and pregnant women, medical assistance for mothers, protective measures and free milk for school children, daycare facilities, equality in family law, and “full maternity leave” before and after delivery, though without defining its duration or parameters.13

At 1930 IWS meetings, Communist women highlighted what they saw as Socialists’ conservatism. Soviet Zhenotdel delegate Varvara Moirova criticized German socialist women for their contempt toward unwed mothers, while a Comintern Executive representative mocked the Czech socialists’ “Mother of the Future” care model, which promoted a conventional vision of motherhood that assigned women full responsibility for child-rearing and confined them to the role of housewives, financially supported by the state. Communists labeled this vision that emphasized the woman’s “noble goal [of] bring[ing] up her children for her own joy and the benefit of society” as “petty-bourgeois sentimental nonsense, no different from the view of a woman as belonging to the realm of the Kinder, Küche, Kirche (children, kitchen, church) trinity.”14 By contrast, Communist women envisioned a world where women could experience the joy of motherhood while contributing to society outside the home, a vision encapsulated in their aspiration that “outside employment and motherhood will join together in an unbroken circle for a full life.”15

In Germany that same year, Social Democrats did not support the bills proposed by the Communist faction of the Bundestag to protect women workers, peasants, and domestic servants. One bill called for the protection of motherhood, demanded sixteen weeks of paid maternity leave, and prohibited the dismissal of pregnant women and mothers until twelve months after childbirth. The other bill focused on communal authorities and demanded to establish orphanages, daycare facilities, and maternity hospitals; provide child benefits for low-income families; and offer tax benefits and housing allocations, free school meals, and free transport for children from large families. Both bills were rejected.16

Given these differences, Communist women also strategically used the Left turn to emphasize their own radical agenda within the left-wing circles of women and within the male-dominated worlds of the Communist and Socialist Internationals. They consistently promoted a “working mother model” supported by socialized care, which represented an alternative to both the prevailing male breadwinner model and the double exploitation of women’s waged and reproductive labor. Decades later, Marxist feminists such as Lise Vogel and Silvia Federici would theorize social reproduction as linked to housework and childrearing (usually done by women).17 Thus Communist women prefigured a rethinking of social reproduction as inherently linked to the domestic and care labor essential to sustaining the workforce. Moreover, differently from Federici or even pre-World War I ideas on wages for housework, such as those of Charlotte Perkins Gilman, an American first-wave feminist who advocated for providing financial compensation for mothers and caregivers,18 the CWM was unanimous in promoting the complete abolition of housework as a private responsibility, seeing it as a strategic goal of women’s liberation, achievable only through socialist transformation.

Despite the diverging visions and overall Comintern anti-socialist rhetoric, Communist women often continued collaborating with some socialist women’s groups on practical issues such as women’s wages, food prices, or some aspects of maternity protection. Anti-fascism, which has been part of the Communist women’s agenda since 1922, became another unifying factor, especially since the mid-1930s.

‘Fight for the desired joyful motherhood’: The CWM and the Popular Front

The Great Depression had barely begun to ravage global economies when the political landscape took an even darker turn. In September 1930, the Nazi Party became the second largest force in the Reichstag; three years later, Hitler was appointed chancellor and swiftly moved to outlaw the Communist Party and crush the Social Democrats. By July 1933, the Nazi regime had established a monopoly on power and initiated a massive rearmament program. In Italy, Mussolini had already presided over a fascist government for more than a decade, while fascist movements proliferated across Europe and beyond, including in Austria, Spain, and France. Economic hardship fueled their political gains, making anti-fascism the overriding priority for most European Communist Parties by 1934.

For Communist women, fascism represented more than a political threat: it was a direct assault on women’s rights. Italian fascism constructed its policy toward women around a pronatalist ideology that cast childbearing as a patriotic duty to the nation, while simultaneously discouraging women’s participation in the workforce. The Nazi regime pursued a parallel project, glorifying motherhood while restricting women’s access to employment, higher education, and birth control. These policies were inseparable from the Nazis’ eugenic agenda, which subjected women deemed “unfit” on racial, ethnic or health grounds to compulsory sterilization. Abortion, though formally illegal in Germany, was permitted for some, and functioned as an instrument of state control, deployed in the service of a eugenicist ideology.

The intensifying fascist threat compelled the international communist movement to reconsider its strategic orientation. Amid mounting polarization, the French and Czechoslovak sections of the Comintern urged cooperation with social democrats and other leftist forces in the name of an anti-fascist united front. This proposal was formally adopted in July 1935, encouraging broad anti-fascist alliances with leftist, center-left, and centrist parties, while granting national sections greater autonomy in their implementation of the new line.

The CWM anticipated this shift, implementing unity strategies from fall 1934. The new policy enabled cooperation with socialist women but also required collaboration with center-left and centrist women’s movements, including religious ones, risking de-radicalization. Concurrently, the broader international arena was becoming increasingly complex: while Nazis and fascists were promoting pro-natalism alongside eugenicist policies, many non-fascist governments, such as those of the US and Scandinavian countries, also practiced “voluntary” sterilization based on race, ethnicity, or class. Communist women denounced such policies, effectively practicing — if not explicitly naming — intersectionality in their activism, pointing to a variety of factors such as race, ethnicity, class, or health that added up to women’s oppression under capitalism.19 Consequently, by the summer of 1935 the members of the IWS felt that these global developments put Communist women in a highly precarious position, as their pro-abortion stance risked being misinterpreted as neo-Malthusianism or conflated with far-right eugenicist policies. On the other hand, maintaining their radical vision of working motherhood threatened to alienate their prospective moderate anti-fascist allies.

Moreover, the IWS members were also aware of potential changes to abortion legislation in the Soviet Union. A year later the Soviet government indeed banned abortions. The June 1936 decree, formally titled the “Resolution of the Central Executive Committee and the Council of People’s Commissars of the USSR on the Prohibition of Abortions, Increasing Financial Assistance to Mothers, Establishing State Assistance to Large Families, Expanding the Network of Maternity Hospitals, Nurseries and Kindergartens, Increasing Criminal Penalties for Failure to Pay Alimony and on Certain Changes in the Legislation on Divorce,” simultaneously ended the right to free, medicalized abortion that Soviet women had enjoyed since 1920, while allocating additional funds to support working motherhood and socialized care.20 However, arguably, it was complex international shifts, and not only Soviet reversal of abortion policy, that called for readjustments of the CWM’s policies on reproductive rights, motherhood, and care.

That said, while abandoning the most radical element of its initial platform — the pro-abortion stance — the CWM remained faithful to its policies regarding state-supported motherhood and reproductive labor. In the summer of 1935, a series of meetings took place at the IWS to discuss the stakes of the Popular Front and the line to adopt on the contentious issues of reproductive rights, working motherhood, and care. As a result of these discussions, the movement resolved to continue advocating for the transformation of housework into a social industry, the integration of motherhood with employment outside the home; a sixteen-week paid maternity leave; free maternal medical care; public daycare facilities; and family allowances. While explicit demands for free and medicalized abortion became rare after 1935, giving way to the more neutral slogan “For desired and joyful motherhood” and access to contraception, Communist women in Europe and beyond nevertheless continued to actively protest anti-abortion laws and the devastating consequences of illegal abortions.21 This practice likens the CWM’s advocacy for state-supported motherhood to an early form of reproductive justice activism, occurring decades before the framework was formally coined by women of color activists and scholars in the United States during the mid-1990s.22

Conclusion

The interwar Communist Women’s Movement was not a passive recipient of Comintern or Soviet directives but an active, theoretically innovative vanguard that positioned women’s emancipation at the center of socialist transformation. By linking unwaged domestic labor to social reproduction, the movement pioneered a profound rethinking of care work as a structural economic and political question.

The CWM officially dissolved in November 1935, only months after the adoption of the Popular Front policy. Yet the same activists continued coordinating international efforts until the summer of 1937, and Women’s Departments within Communist Parties kept advocating for a revolutionary reorganization of reproductive labor. Over time, the Popular Front progressively absorbed the movement’s international networks into organizations such as the Women’s World Committee against War and Fascism and the Women’s International League for Peace and Freedom, where Communist women’s experience and connections served new purposes. In this shift, proletarian internationalism recast itself as antifascist solidarity, even as the underlying networks endured under altered forms.

During World War II, Communist women fought actively against Nazis and fascists on the frontlines and within diverse resistance movements. After the war, they revived their networks and, in 1945, established the Women’s International Democratic Federation (WIDF) in Paris. As an indirect successor to the CWM, the WIDF continued many policies first articulated in the 1920s such as anticolonialism, anti-imperialism, and the struggle for state-supported motherhood and socialized care, linking them to the broader fight for women’s status worldwide. Socialist governments in Eastern and Central Europe subsequently adopted many of the CWM’s ideas on reproductive labor at the national level.

Throughout these transformations, from the Left Turn to the Popular Front, from wartime resistance to postwar institutionalization, Communist women remained faithful to their foundational vision of socialization of housework and care. In doing so, they formulated core principles of intersectionality and reproductive justice that anticipated contemporary feminist frameworks. Their legacy of radical care activism challenges and complicates the standard narrative of modern women’s rights movements and the conventional “waves of feminism.” That historical recovery matters urgently today. The very policies the CWM formulated and fought for a century ago now face renewed attacks, even as societies worldwide continue grappling with how to organize care economies effectively and fairly.

Dr. Daria Dyakonova is a historian of transnational left-wing youth and women’s movements, gender, and International Relations. Her research currently focuses on the international Communist Women’s Movement during the interwar period, with particular attention to transnational activism.

  • 1

    “Guidelines for the Communist Women’s Movement” (hereinafter “Guidelines”), 1921, in Mike Taber and Daria Dyakonova, eds., The Communist Women’s Movement, 1920–1922: Proceedings, Resolutions, and Reports (Leiden: Brill, 2022), 162. The quote from this article’s title from “Guidelines,” 163.

  • 2

    The International Women’s Secretariat technically existed between the summer of 1920 and the summer of 1926. It was based in Moscow between November 1920 and December 1921 and in Berlin between January 1922 and July 1924. It moved back to Moscow in August 1924. In April 1926 it was transformed into the Women’s Department of the Comintern’s Executive Committee (ECCI), but the name IWS continued to be used until the dissolution of the ECCI Women’s Department in 1935. In this article I use the term International Women’s Secretariat (IWS) for the entire interwar period for the sake of consistency.

  • 3

    Organizers within the Communist Women’s Movement did not use the term “social reproduction” to define women’s work or gendered material inequality. Yet, their understanding of the relationship between women’s care labor and the wider economy was not only intersectional but also integrative, taking political form in the demand for the socialization of care work.

  • 4

    “Guidelines,” 162.

  • 5

    The 1920 Conference had over 50 delegates from 19 countries. See Taber and Dyakonova, eds., The Communist Women’s Movement, 151.

  • 6

    “Guidelines,” 162.

  • 7

    V.I. Lenin, “The Tasks of the Working Women’s Movement in the Soviet Republic. Speech delivered at the Fourth Moscow City Conference of Non-Party Working Women, 23 September 1919.” In Collected Works, vol. 30 (Moscow: Progress Publishers, 1965), 40–6. https://www.marxists.org/archive/lenin/works/1919/sep/23a.htm.

  • 8

    Alexandra Kollontai, “Communism and the Family.” In Alix Holt, ed., Alexandra Kollontai: Selected Writings (London: Allison & Busby, 1977).

  • 9

    “Guidelines,” 163.

  • 10

    Lily Braun developed similar ideas in Die Frauenfrage (The Woman Question, 1901). Helene Stöcker led the Deutscher Bund für Mutterschutz und Sexualreform(German League for the Protection of Motherhood and Sexual Reform) and advocated for reforms that would require the state to support single mothers. See Olga Bronnikova and Matthieu Renault, Kollontai. Défaire la famille, refaire l’amour(Paris: La Fabrique éditions, 2024), 84–85.

  • 11

    “Minutes of the meeting of the IWS,” 27 August 1935, ll. 93-95, 101. Minutes and materials of the meetings of the IWS, 21.08.1935-11.09.1935, fond (fund, hereinafter f.). 507, opys (inventory, hereinafter op.) 2, delo (file, hereinafter d.) 230. Russian State Archive of Social and Political History (hereinafter RGASPI), Moscow, Russia.

  • 12

    See, for example, Josephine Fowler, “From East to West and West to East: Ties of Solidarity in the Pan-Pacific Revolutionary Trade Union Movement, 1923–1934,” International Labor and Working-Class History 66 (2004): 99–117.

  • 13

    “Minutes of the meeting of the IWS/WD,” 4 September 1928, ll. 208-209. Minutes of the meetings of the IWS/WD January to September 1928, f. 507, op. 2, d. 119. RGASPI.

  • 14

    “Minutes of the meeting of the IWS/WD,” 20 May 1930, ll. 185-6. Minutes of the meetings of the IWS/WD January to May 1930, f. 507, op. 2, d. 157. RGASPI.

  • 15

    “Guidelines”, 153.

  • 16

    “Minutes of the meeting of the IWS/WD,” 22 May 1930, ll. 1-51. Minutes of the meetings of the IWS/WD for May and June 1930, f. 507, op. 2, d. 158. RGASPI.

  • 17

    See Lise Vogel, Marxism and the Oppression of Women: Toward a Unitary Theory, revised ed. (Leiden: Brill, 2013); Silvia Federici, Caliban and the Witch: Women, the Body and Primitive Accumulation (Brooklyn, NY: Autonomedia, 2004).

  • 18

    Charlotte Perkins Gilman, Women and Economics: A Study of the Economic Relation Between Men and Women as a Factor in Social Evolution (Boston: Small, Maynard & Co., 1898).

  • 19

    “Minutes of the meeting of the IWS/WD,” 1 January 1935, l. 199. Minutes of the meetings of the IWS/WD for January to June 1935, f. 507, op. 2, d. 229. RGASPI.

  • 20

    In the USSR, abortion was from its introduction regarded as a provisional measure. While not all members of the Zhenotdel enthusiastically supported it, they concurred that it remained necessary so long as society could not guarantee the necessary material conditions for all mothers and children. Kollontai herself was not, strictly speaking, “pro-abortion” in the sense of promoting it as a positive good; rather, she viewed it as a necessity imposed by the material circumstances.

  • 21

    “Minutes of the meeting of the IWS/WD,” 23 July 1935, l. 221. Minutes of the meetings of the IWS/WD for January to June 1935, f. 507, op. 2, d. 229; and “Minutes of the meeting of the IWS/WD,” 25 August 1935, l. 16 and 27 August 1935, l. 125. Minutes of the meetings of the IWS/WD for August to September 1935, f. 507, op. 2, d. 230. RGASPI.

  • 22

    See, for example, Loretta Ross and Rickie Solinger, Reproductive Justice: An Introduction (Oakland: University of California Press, 2017).



























Monday, September 21, 2026

On Russia’s New Economic Policy in the early 1920s and the crisis facing Cuba today

Cuban farmer, 2026. Cuba’s agricultural production has been declining for nearly 30 years.

First published at World-Outlook, with the following introduction and postscript by its editor.

On June 18, 2026, Cuba’s National Assembly — the country’s highest legislative body — adopted an extensive series of new economic measures. The Central Committee of Cuba’s Communist Party had approved the same package a day earlier.

These decisions were made as Cuba confronts its deepest economic and social crisis since the 1959 revolution. This dire situation is largely caused by Washington’s relentless economic war for nearly seven decades. The U.S. economic blockade of Cuba has been in place since 1960. Washington has escalated it repeatedly. Trump tightened it further during his first term as U.S. president and Biden left most of those new restrictions in place during his presidency.

Trump took a qualitatively new and more belligerent step when he imposed a US naval blockade on all oil imports to Cuba last January. Even in the days of the October 1962 “missile crisis,”1 the U.S. naval blockade was limited to what Washington considered “offensive weapons.” This complete blockade of oil imports has resulted in an unprecedented energy crisis resulting in blackouts that last most of every day and affect all aspects of life in Cuba. A new wave of sanctions is now threatening Cuba’s food supply.

The economic measures recently adopted in Cuba include virtual abolition of the state monopoly of foreign trade, enabling establishment of private banks, allowing private companies to hire an unlimited number of employees, easing regulations for direct foreign investment, and creating a partial dollarization of the economy. They are a retreat from many of the policies of the Cuban Revolution, signifying explicit openings to the capitalist market.

In discussions and debates on social media and elsewhere in Cuba, a number of supporters of the Cuban Revolution have referred to similar measures adopted in the early years of the Russian Revolution, known as the “New Economic Policy” (NEP).

In the early 1920s, the introduction of the NEP represented a retreat by the Bolsheviks from earlier policies of the 1917 Russian Revolution. The NEP was a response to the devastation of the young Soviet republic after three years of civil war, foreign imperialist intervention, and setbacks of revolutionary struggles in Europe.

While some of the measures being taken in Cuba resemble the NEP, the situation facing Cuba today is very different.

As a contribution to this discussion, we are publishing below major excerpts of an article on the NEP — written by Argiris Malapanis, who is today an editor of World-Outlook — that first appeared in the April 1994 issue of the International Socialist Review (ISR).2 It was published as Cuba adopted economic changes in the 1990s to revive declining agricultural and industrial production during the Special Period.3

The ISR article that follows introduced speeches and articles on the NEP by Russian revolutionary leader V. I. Lenin, major excerpts of which appeared in the same ISR issue. 

In addition, in a postscript to the article that follows, we sketch the main differences in the political situation faced by the Bolsheviks in the 1920s to the situation Cuba confronts today.

We publish the article below for the information of our readers. The headline, subhead, and text that follow are from the original. 


How the Bolsheviks charted course to sustain the worker-peasant alliance: From War Communism to the New Economic Policy

Argiris Malapanis

The Bolshevik Party was a working-class party both in composition and in program. Bolshevik workers helped lead the insurrection that overthrew the tsar in February 1917 and brought to power a government led by the bourgeois Cadet Party (Constitutional Democrats). That regime represented the interests of the capitalists, landowners, and foreign imperialists. It was overthrown by an armed insurrection of workers and soldiers organized in soviets (workers and peasants councils) in October 1917, which brought the Bolsheviks to power.

The workers and peasants’ government that came to power ended Russia’s participation in World War I.

It declared on the first day of the revolution that the holdings of the big landowners would be distributed to the peasants. Around 80 percent of the country’s population was engaged in agriculture at the time. The industrial working class numbered only 4 million.

Under the monarchy, 100 million peasants had been scraping out a meager living on about 380 million acres of land with average allotments of 19 acres per family. But rich landowners, numbering 30,000 with average allotments of 5,400 acres each, owned as much land as 50 million poor peasants. So, land distribution was immensely popular among the peasants.

To encourage increased agricultural production, the Soviet government provided aid in the form of implements, fertilizer, and other necessities.

This stance cemented an alliance between working people in the cities and countryside without which the revolution could not survive.

The Bolshevik-led government extended freedom of choice to all nationalities. They could either remain in the Soviet Union or peacefully secede if they so desired. In most cases they joined the Soviet federation.

The revolutionary regime took actions to radically advance the status of women.

In the first days of the revolution, the government also issued decrees defending workers’ rights. These included abolishing child labor, guaranteeing the eight-hour day and health and unemployment insurance, forbidding lockouts by employers, and granting elected workers councils increased control over industry.

The communists sought to aid workers’ struggles in other countries and extend the revolution. This was seen as a precondition to defending and advancing the Russian revolution.

Civil war and ‘war communism’

In response to these and other Soviet government policies, a civil war erupted, pitting capitalists and former tsarist forces against workers and peasants. Invading armies from more than a dozen imperialist countries backed the capitalist counterrevolution.

ln response, the workers and peasants’ government utilized its power to deepen the revolutionary struggle, resulting in the expropriation of the capitalist class and nationalization of industry and wholesale trade by the end of 1918. This laid the basis for the establishment of a planned economy and state monopoly of foreign trade.

Although the peasants during the civil war joined with the Bolsheviks and the revolutionary workers against the landlords and the tsar, they were not, in their majority, won to the socialist perspective of the Bolsheviks. Thus, the military alliance had to be accompanied by an economic alliance. Under civil-war conditions, this took the form of compulsory requisitions of the peasants’ grain surpluses to feed the urban working class. In addition, the revolutionary government relied on growing militarization of labor in the factories and in transportation.

By the end of 1920, the foreign invaders and counterrevolutionary armies had been defeated. Under the new post-civil war conditions, the alliance of workers and peasants could not be maintained by the same methods. The policies of “war communism,” followed by the Soviet government from mid-1918 through early 1921 as necessary measures of defense and survival, were no longer sustainable.

Sporadic resistance to these policies turned to open revolt. In late 1920 and early 1921 there were strikes in some factories, peasant revolts in parts of the countryside, and — in March 1921 — a mutiny by troops, largely peasant and petty bourgeois in composition, at the Kronstadt garrison near Petrograd (St. Petersburg).

Tax in kind

The conditions of the peasantry had become too miserable, and the common military cause was no longer there to buffer growing resentment against the requisitioning of food. So, in early 1921, the Bolsheviks replaced their previous policy with a tax in kind on the peasants’ grain surplus — that is, only a certain portion of the surplus, established by law, was taken by the state for distribution in the cities. The peasants could keep the rest for the use of their family or to sell on the market.

Along with this policy toward the peasantry, Lenin and the Bolsheviks also proposed measures to help revive industrial production. This included leasing nationalized factories, mines, forests, and oil fields to foreign capitalists and to some remaining entrepreneurs in Russia itself. This was combined with an ambitious proposal to bring electrification to the entire country — urban and rural areas alike. These measures marked the beginning in Russia of the NEP. The Bolsheviks placed this important shift in their tactics before delegates at the Third Congress of the Communist International in 1921 for a discussion and vote.

Lenin, Leon Trotsky, and other Bolshevik leaders explained that this policy was a necessary but temporary retreat. Above all, the NEP assumed the existence in the Soviet Union of a communist leadership of the working class that worked to strengthen the worker-peasant alliance, increase the production and circulation of food and other agricultural goods, and revive industrial production as rapidly as possible, in order to lay a more solid foundation on which to organize the next steps in advancing toward socialist relations of production and interchange.

A major factor that led the Bolsheviks to adopt the NEP was the conjuncture in world politics that existed in the opening of the 1920s. On an international level, Lenin and the Bolsheviks acknowledged and analyzed the fact that the prewar revolutionary upsurge had peaked. They came to grips with the political consequences of the defeats of working-class uprisings in Germany, Hungary, Italy, and elsewhere in Europe.

The failure to extend the example set by the Bolsheviks and the recoil from revolutionary struggle in those countries, reinforced by bloody repression, meant that the possibility for an extension of the world revolution had been pushed back temporarily. However, solidarity with the Soviet republic and opposition to war against it remained high among workers in Europe and other parts of the world.

Combating negative consequences of NEP

The Bolsheviks were very much aware of the dangers of increased class differentiation and polarization inevitably bred by the NEP. These policies widened social inequalities and helped generate new exploiting layers, especially rich peasants and price-gouging traders and middlemen, whom the workers and poor peasants came to call “Nepmen,” with contempt.

State industrial enterprises, pressed to cut costs, laid off workers and pushed up jobless levels in the cities. Making the profit column of the ledger book look good became the overriding consideration for many factory managers — whether or not these figures reflected less wasteful organization of labor and utilization of resources, and regardless of broader social needs and priorities. Efforts to advance workers control and management in the factories faced greater obstacles.

To combat such consequences of the NEP, the Bolsheviks worked to rebuild the strength of the Communist Party among the reviving industrial working class and to fight for political leadership of the peasantry.

Once the economic recovery was under way and the worker-peasant alliance placed on firmer ground, new tasks were posed. Once again, Lenin led the political battle. During the last year of his active political life, Lenin launched a fight aimed among other things at combating the initial consequences of the NEP and reversing the Soviet republic’s unavoidable temporary retreat. This was one of Lenin’s final contributions to Marxism and working-class politics.

The degeneration of the workers state after Lenin’s death in 1924 was the result of a bloody political counterrevolution carried out against the working class, its vanguard, and its allies, in the interests of a materially privileged social layer numbering in the millions.

By the beginning of the 1930s, Joseph Stalin emerged as the leading representative of that social caste. Under the banner of “socialism in one country,” the new regime beat a headlong retreat from the internationalist course carried out during Lenin’s time of subordinating the national interests of the Soviet state to the advance of the world struggle for national liberation and socialism.

The battle following Lenin’s death over the social consequences of the policies collectively called the NEP were fought out in this political context. It was a struggle over conflicting class interests and orientations.

The representatives of the bureaucratic caste triumphed and reversed the communist course initiated by Lenin in the Soviet government, Communist Party, and Communist International. Contrary to the decades-long distortions by bourgeois, social-democratic, anarcho-syndicalist, ultraleft, and Stalinist opponents of communism, the policies of Stalin and his heirs were not the outcome of the continuity of Lenin’s political course but the bloody defeat of that course….

[A]s Lenin pointed out at the time, as long as the Soviet republic was surrounded by the capitalist world and the revolution in Germany and other advanced capitalist countries had not come to its aid, the Bolsheviks had to pay a tribute to the imperialist bourgeoisie. They had to do it in order to survive and gain time until the extension of the world revolution could shift the balance of class forces once again in favor of the working class…


Postscript 

World-Outlook editors

There are similarities between the circumstances that led the Bolsheviks to adopt the NEP in the early 1920s and what Cuban revolutionaries confront today. But the differences are striking.

1. An unstable equilibrium

The new Soviet republic had won a breathing period as a result of its victory in the civil war and the defeat of imperialist intervention in the early 1920s. Lenin described this in numerous reports, speeches, and articles. A brief excerpt from a speech he gave on July 5, 1921, at the Third Congress of the Communist International (Comintern), Report on the Tactics of the R.C.P. (item 4 in this link), makes this clear:

“During the past few years, we have witnessed the direct struggle waged by the international bourgeoisie against the first proletarian republic. This struggle has been at the centre of the world political situation, and it is there that a change has taken place. Inasmuch as the attempt of the international bourgeoisie to strangle our Republic has failed, an equilibrium has set in, and a very unstable one it is, of course.” [Emphasis added.]

There is no equivalent “equilibrium” facing Cuba today. The opposite seems to be true.

It is virtually certain that Trump has instructed the Pentagon to draw up plans for a U.S. military invasion of Cuba. It is even more certain that such an invasion would meet the most determined resistance by the Cuban people, a certainty that likely gives the U.S. ruling class pause on whether it is prepared to risk suffering large numbers of casualties. But there are other military options, short of the use of U.S. ground troops, that could devastate Cuba. They include air assaults like those Washington has mounted against Iran.

Meanwhile, short of such dangerous additional military moves, the U.S. naval blockade pulls the noose around the Cuban people a little tighter every day. The damage — due to the oil blockade — to the Cuban health care system has already led to the loss of lives.

2. International situation

There’s also an important difference between the international situation then and now.

While acknowledging the setbacks of revolutionary struggles in Europe in the early 1920s that were a major factor in launching the NEP, Lenin expressed the Bolsheviks’ optimism about prospects for coming revolutionary struggles, especially in the East. In the same report to the Comintern’s third congress cited above, Lenin said:

“We can say with satisfaction that the revolution is developing all over the world, and it is only thanks to this that the international bourgeoisie is unable to strangle us, in spite of the fact that, militarily and economically, it is a hundred times stronger than we are.…

“The movement in the colonial countries … has undergone great change since the beginning of the twentieth century: millions and hundreds of millions, in fact the overwhelming majority of the population of the globe, are now coming forward as independent, active and revolutionary factors. It is perfectly clear that in the impending decisive battles in the world revolution, the movement of the majority of the population of the globe, initially directed towards national liberation, will turn against capitalism and imperialism and will, perhaps, play a much more revolutionary part than we expect. It is important to emphasize the fact that, for the first time in our International, we have taken up the question of preparing for this struggle.”

There are no similar prospects on the horizon today for Cuban revolutionaries and the working class and its allies worldwide.

The labor movement has been in decline for decades around the globe.

There has been no successful socialist revolution anywhere in the world since the victory of the Cuban Revolution in 1959. Popular revolutions in Iran, Grenada, and Nicaragua in 1979, and Burkina Faso in 1983, scored initial successes but were ultimately defeated. In countries where capitalist rule had once been overthrown — from the Soviet Union to Eastern Europe, China, and Vietnam — it has been reestablished.

In the 21st century, “the left then began to defend the functioning of bourgeois democracy (without mentioning the adjective, as if it were the only form of democracy possible) and did not go beyond this narrow framework during those years,” wrote Enrique Ubieta Gómez, editor of Cuba Socialista, the theoretical journal of Cuba’s Communist Party, in a July 28 article. Left-wing parties “immersed in the electoral arena, stopped searching for another type of truly popular democracy and rejected, at least in practice, the possibility of defeating and overcoming the capitalist system,” Ubieta Gómez accurately stated.

In addition, no government of any country — without exception — has meaningfully challenged the latest U.S. measures aimed at strangling and starving Cuba and its people. Not Brazil. Not Mexico. Not Spain.

Even though Cuba has received some aid from China, Russia, and Vietnam, Ubieta Gómez wrote, “it will have to fend for itself.”

In an April 30, 2026, interview in Havana with World-Outlook, Cuban historian Ernesto Limia Díaz explained that “China also does not give Cuba anything for free…. China does make small donations, but they are symbolic donations.”

3. Foreign capitalist investment to revive industry

In the early 1920s, the new Soviet republic welcomed foreign capitalist investment through a concession system to revive Russia’s industrial production that had collapsed during the civil war. Foreign firms operated nationalized mines, oil fields, and factories under state supervision, investing capital and sharing profits while the Bolsheviks retained overall control of the economy and its planning.

“Without the slightest denationalization, we shall lease mines, forests and oilfields to foreign capitalists, and receive in exchange manufactured goods, machinery, etc., and thus restore our own industry,” Lenin explained in the same speech cited above.

One of the stated goals of the recent measures adopted in Cuba is precisely to attract capital investments from abroad in order to revive declining industrial production. But there are no signs this is feasible, at least in the short term.

In fact, the opposite seems to be true. Washington keeps tightening sanctions, forcing even capitalists based in countries with friendly relations with Cuba, like Spain, to abandon operations on the island. A case in point is the Spanish-owned Melia Hotels, which shut down its 34 hotels in Cuba on July 24. Mastercard and Visa transactions were also suspended in Cuba on June 6. The country is now largely isolated from the global financial system.

4. Agricultural production

Almost 80 percent of the Cuban population lives in the cities now, a demographic fact that is the reverse of the Soviet Union of the 1920s. The cultural level of the Cuban population today is also much more elevated than that of the young Soviet republic, which was characterized by rampant illiteracy, especially in the countryside.

There is another, overriding contradiction, however, between then and now, regarding agricultural production.

The Bolsheviks took steps through the NEP to cement the worker-peasant alliance and ensure that grain and other foodstuffs produced by the peasantry could flow into the urban areas.

However, Cuba today is hard pressed to quickly shore up agricultural production that has been declining for nearly three decades, as outlined in the recent article published by Jacobin, “After Blocking Fuel, the US Turns to Cuba’s Food Supply”. The World Food Program estimates that Cuba today relies on agricultural imports to meet 70-80% of its needs, making it more vulnerable to Washington’s bellicose sanctions.

During a July 26, 2009, rally in Holguín, Cuba, celebrating the anniversary of the attack on Moncada, the opening act of the Cuban Revolution, Raúl Castro, the country’s president at the time, stressed in his speech that increasing domestic food production was an urgent economic priority to reduce Cuba’s heavy reliance on costly food imports. He said rebuilding the country’s agricultural system was a matter of national security.

“The land is there! The Cubans are here!” Castro said pointedly, pounding the podium. “Let’s see if we can work better or not, if we can produce or not, if we keep our word or not! It’s not a question of crying, ‘Motherland or death! Down with imperialism!’ The U.S. blockade pummels us and yet the land is there waiting for our efforts.”

He told the tens of thousands at the rally in Holguín that half of Cuba’s arable farmland was either fallow or underutilized.

It seems that Cuba was not able to make much progress to address this vulnerability in the decade since then.

5. Food aid

Between 1921 and 1923, for its own reasons, Washington provided significant food aid to the Soviet Union through the American Relief Administration. This was done in response to the Soviet government’s international appeal for such help to alleviate a famine that plagued the country as a result of the civil war and foreign intervention.

However, Washington is now doing the opposite. As the Jacobin article cited above shows, U.S. sanctions are targeting Cuba’s capacity to grow, process, and import food.

While the U.S. government is not directly barring humanitarian shipments, its draconian sanctions and fuel blockade have created a “chilling effect.” United Nations officials report that shipping companies, banks, and insurers refuse to handle cargo for Cuba out of fear of U.S. penalties, leaving thousands of aid containers stranded.

Taken altogether, these differences signify that Cuban revolutionaries today face challenges much more daunting than what the Bolsheviks had to confront a little over a century ago.

  • 1

    In October 1962, in what is widely known as the Cuban Missile Crisis, the U.S. government — under President John F. Kennedy — pushed the world to the edge of nuclear war by enacting a naval blockade of Cuba and threatening war unless the Soviet Union withdrew nuclear missiles it had installed in Cuba against the wishes of the Cuban government. The Cuban people and their revolutionary government, with unparalleled determination to defend their sovereignty and their socialist revolution, blocked U.S. plans for a military assault and saved humanity from the consequences of a nuclear holocaust.

  • 2

    This issue of the International Socialist Review was published as a supplement to the April 4, 1994, Militant newsweekly.

  • 3

    During the 1990s, following the fall of the Berlin Wall and the dissolution of the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics (USSR), Cuba faced its first severe economic crisis since the victory of the revolution in 1959. Confronted with the cutoff of trade at preferential prices with the former Soviet Union, Cuba suddenly faced a 35% plunge in economic production (equal or greater than the decline of the Great Depression in the United States in the 1930s). Those years are often referred to as the “Special Period in Time of Peace.”

    At the same time, Washington intensified its economic warfare against Cuba as the Revolution tried to get new trading partners and sources of capital. Enemies of the Revolution everywhere predicted the “impending” collapse of the workers and farmers republic. Revolutionary minded working people in Cuba, however, defended their socialist revolution in face of these difficulties, showing that the Cuban government remained their government. And they continued to reach out to the oppressed and exploited around the world, aiding anti-imperialist and national liberation struggles.

    A series of eyewitness reports first published in the mid-1990s in the Militant newspaper describe how Cuba’s revolutionary leadership and the country’s working people confronted the challenges of the Special Period. These articles were later published as a pamphlet. They can be found in the following links:

    Cuban Nat’l Assembly debates measures to deal with formidable economic crisis (pp. 5-6, April 4, 1994, issue.)

    Workers debate way forward for Cuban revolution (pp. 8-9, April 11, 1994, issue.)

    Cuban gov’t reorganizes state farms into cooperatives in effort to boost production (pp. 6-7, April 18, 1994, issue.)

    Agricultural markets raise expectations that food scarcities may ease in Cuba (pp. 8-9, January 30, 1995, issue.)

    Workers in Cuba increase their management role through factory assemblies (pp. 8-9, February 6, 1995, issue.)

    Cuba: signs of economic stabilization put workers on footing to meet new challenges (pp. 8-9, April 10, 1995, issue.)