Showing posts sorted by date for query Raya Dunayevskaya. Sort by relevance Show all posts
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Saturday, December 27, 2025

Trumpist fascism: The worm turns


Anti-ICE protest

First published at MR Online.

For those who lived through Richard Nixon’s lurch toward authoritarian rule, the period after his reelection in a landslide in November 1972 was frightening. (And it was a real landslide, with 60 percent of the vote.) Nixon soon launched a brutal “Christmas” bombing of Vietnam and prepared further revenge against his “enemies list” at home. Though weakened by then, antiwar youth still constituted the largest presence among the 100,000 people who demonstrated against his inauguration in January 1973. But even though Nixon seemed to be riding high, the worm had begun to turn. A few weeks later, the American Indian Movement began its epochal Wounded Knee Occupation. By May, the Democratic Party had recovered some of its backbone and the Senate Watergate hearings were underway. The rest of the story is well known.

Today, the worm is turning for the Trumpist fascists, despite their control (unlike Nixon) of all three branches of government and their massive attempts to transform the US state and society. In November, Zohran Mamdani’s electoral victory in New York, as well as other victories for progressives in Seattle and elsewhere, showed not only a widening opposition to Trumpism, but also its radicalization. The No Kings demonstrations in October drew over five million into the streets. The immigration raids in the Los Angeles and Chicago regions met with fierce citizen opposition on the streets, slowing and even derailing efforts at mass roundups, in actions reminiscent of the legendary struggles against the Fugitive Slave Law in the 1850s. By December 2025, amid more electoral defeats, most notably for a Cuban right-winger in Miami, Trump’s poll numbers plummeted amid severely worsening jobs data released by the Bureau of Labor Statistics.

What went wrong for the Trumpist fascists?

According to the famous statement by Martin Niemöller,

When the Nazis came for the communists,
I kept quiet; I wasn’t a communist.
When they came for the trade unionists, I kept quiet;
I wasn’t a trade unionist.
When they locked up the social democrats, I kept quiet;
I wasn’t a social democrat.
When they locked up the Jews, I kept quiet;
I wasn’t a Jew.
When they came for me, there was no one left to protest.

Niemöller was describing what are sometimes called “salami tactics”: divide one’s opponents by picking them off one at a time, starting with the most reviled.

But this has not been the case with Trumpism in 2025. The Trumpist fascists have instead gone after everyone, everywhere, all at once.

They went after transgender people from day one, but also attacked large LGBTQ constituencies and even prominent centrist liberal feminists. They denied transgender military veterans their pensions. This kind of repression took place in purportedly liberal institutions as well, as when the University of Pennsylvania acceded to Trumpist pressure by severely restricting trans people from its athletic programs. But the Pride demonstrations in June saw very large turnouts, including in lots of smaller cities and towns.

Under mad hatter multibillionaire Elon Musk, DOGE attacked federal agencies with a sledgehammer, not just the social programs or diplomatic jobs, but also the police/security apparatus. The administration also decreed in peremptory fashion that it was ending union representation for one million federal workers. Other Trumpists even attempted to prosecute the likes of the former director of the FBI. The working class recoiled in the face of Musk, anyone’s worst nightmare of a boss. The racist and sexist nature of these attacks was also seen in the fact that huge numbers of federal workers are women, among them many women of color. As Erica Green observed at the end of the summer: “The most recent labor statistics show that nationwide, Black women lost 319,000 jobs in the public and private sector between February and July of this year, the only major female demographic group to experience significant job losses during this five-month period” (“Black Women Most Affected by Trump Cuts,” New York Times, September 1, 2025). A furious backlash has ensued, as seen not least in the election returns in the DC area and elsewhere.

Trumpist fascists tried to seal the border with Mexico, claiming they were targeting violent “criminal aliens,” while rounding up random brown people across the country, seizing everyone from high school students to pregnant women to grandmothers. Many were in fact citizens, while countless other citizens and residents showed solidarity on the streets.

At universities, the Trumpists went after pro-Palestine speech and organizing even more than during the Biden administration, further weaponizing charges of antisemitism. But instead of waiting to consolidate this form of repression before moving against more powerful constituencies, they also targeted from the start the more established Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion structures, and they even jeopardized the funding of scientific researchers holding massive Defense Department contracts. Research funding for science dropped to its lowest level in decades, while that for humanities and social sciences plunged even lower. Almost immediately, some university administrations surrendered without a fight, like at Columbia, which, among other outrages, removed self-governance from its Middle East, South Asian, and African Studies Department. By December, Northwestern University president Henry Bienen, who actually began his academic career as an Africa scholar with expertise on Tanzania, did Columbia one better. In his deal with the Trumpist fascists, Bienen ignominiously revoked an agreement with pro-Palestine protesters from 2024 that had mandated scholarships for Palestinian students and the establishment of an advisory committee that would have included discussion of divestment from apartheid Israel. He did so in the face of a 595–8 Faculty Assembly vote rejecting this kind of capitulation.

Most universities in relatively liberal areas of the country have attempted rotten compromises — curtailing Palestine protests, eliminating or renaming DEI — that fell short of complete capitulation. Harvard struck a slightly stronger pose than most, but its degree of willingness to compromise is unclear. Meanwhile, students have shown few signs of accepting the Trumpist agenda. Nor have faculty, as seen by the lawsuit at the University of California launched by the faculty association rather than by craven administrators. At UCLA, the contrived nature of Trumpist antisemitism charges has even led to the resignation of a significant number of Justice Department prosecutors, normally hardly in the progressive camp. At many universities, the defense of academic freedom continues to include Palestine and transgender rights, the two issues centrist liberals want us to downplay or even drop.

Meanwhile, in the South and in some of the more conservative states elsewhere, academic repression has been even more pervasive. Faculty have been fired for discussing transgender rights, Palestine, or socialism; or even over chance remarks about assassinated rightwing leader Charlie Kirk. Some universities are policing syllabi and eliminating courses they accuse of DEI or “wokeism.” At the University of Texas, once a flagship research university, the pro-Trumpist administration is attempting to strip faculty of the forms of self-governance that have marked universities since their inception nearly a millennium ago. The outright firing of even faculty with tenure is not limited to Southern and conservative states, however. This can be seen in the dismissal over faculty objections of Professor Sang Hea Kil of San José State University for her participation in a Palestine demonstration. To make this point, Kil is working with Tom Alter, a historian dismissed for socialist speech from Texas State University, in a joint campaign for their reinstatement and for academic freedom more generally.

Most big corporations and law firms readily agreed to drop or curtail DEI programs, which were never all that strong in the first place. Trumpists attempted to appeal to majoritarian sentiment here (“anti-white” discrimination, etc.), but at the same time enraged many people of color and youth who will not easily forget.

Inside the military, the Trumpists have summarily fired long-serving Black and women officers, removed references to General Colin Powell from websites and restored Confederate monuments and symbols. They also pulled Black studies books from military academy libraries in response to the Trumpist attack on DEI. In national parks and monuments, depictions of slavery were also removed. These moves have outraged many veterans, who are speaking out openly when many still serving cannot.

The Trumpists have intimidated several of the major broadcast networks and attacked popular comedians like Jimmy Kimmel and Rob Reiner, the latter right after he was brutally murdered. The backlash was immense, and some networks had to backtrack. Meanwhile, billionaire Trumpists like the Ellison family are buying up large media properties, including most notably the storied CBS News, celebrated for having in the past stood up to both McCarthy and Nixon. The new CBS news editor, self-described “Zionist fanatic” Bari Weiss, has already blocked a 60 Minutes segment that featured migrants recounting their deportation and torture at the notorious Cecot Prison in El Salvador.

Trumpist fascists have rolled back or seriously undermined over a century of health and environmental protections. Most damaging here in the short term are the policies of anti-vaxxer Robert Kennedy, Jr., which will result in the deaths of more people than anything else the Trumpists are doing. In terms of the environment, Trumpists are slashing anything they can, even trying to abolish wind farms. They have also broken up the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA), which includes the agency that monitors and predicts hurricanes.

Such callous disruption, destructiveness, and brutality, not limited to just a few sectors, but taking place in numerous directions at the same time, has amounts to an overreach that has made even some Trumpist constituencies uneasy. While none of this portends something like what Nixon experienced, forced to resign eighteen months after beginning his second term, it is clear that the public has turned against Trump, as seen both in elections and in numerous opinion polls showing his support at below 40 percent.

Three historical episodes of violent state repression, US style

There is much fear of a third Red Scare or a second “Redemption,” the name given by its perpetrators to the violent resurgence of white supremacy in the South in the 1870s. But are we really on the verge of something so momentous? What are the chances that the Trumpist fascists can get their increasingly unpopular agenda through, either by force or by changing public opinion radically in their favor? Since they don’t seem to be succeeding in the latter, can they create truly violent and massive repression at a societal level? Another look in the historical mirror may help illuminate this.

Here, a glance at the three most serious bouts of political repression the United States has experienced to date may be instructive. It should be noted that each of them took place in the aftermath of a truly serious crisis involving war and revolution. I would argue that as serious as is the situation facing us in 2026, the chance of such levels of repression is not as great as is often being assumed.

  1. Starting in the 1870s, white vigilantes and politicians across the South visited tremendous violence upon Blacks and their supporters and murdered thousands, rolling back Reconstruction. In the process, they created a violent wall of racial segregation and disfranchisement that held for nearly a century across the region. But this was the counterrevolution that followed the only real social revolution the United States has ever undergone, the Civil War and Reconstruction, when four million enslaved people gained physical and, for a time, political freedom. Because that revolution did not cross the horizon of distributing land to formerly enslaved people, something that Northern capital and some liberals also hesitated to support, the new democratic freedoms of the era came to lack any solid economic foundation. In a few years, the reactionaries pounced, abetted by the acquiescence of northern capital and the Republican Party in the infamous compromise of 1877.
  2. In 1919–20, a truly massive Red Scare targeted Socialists and Wobblies, as well as the nascent Communist Party, all the while blaming immigration as the source of radicalism. The Red Scare began during World War I amid a pervasive patriotic fervor that marginalized antiwar and leftwing voices. But it also occurred in the immediate aftermath of the Russian Revolution of 1917, seen as a global threat by capital and its states across the world, including the United States.
  3. The second Red Scare, McCarthyism, was meeting stiff resistance until two large geopolitical events, the Chinese Revolution of October 1949 and the start of the Korean War in June 1950, put dissenters and the left severely on the defensive. Without full-scale war and the “loss” of China, McCarthyism would likely have had milder effects.

What of the United States today? While nothing like a social revolution has occurred over the past decade and a half, we have seen threats to the global social order that began with the Great Recession of 2008 and the Arab revolutions and Occupy in 2011, and then continued into the Sanders campaigns, the #MeToo movement, and the Movement for Black Lives of 2020. While not fully cataclysmic, these events were radical and widely situated enough to scare both of the major wings of Trump’s base: (a) primarily lower-middle class, disaffected, mainly white people, many of them deeply racist and some of them working-class, who feel threatened by immigration and the rising prominence of people of color, all this amid declining or stagnating living standards; and (b) a new plutocracy disdainful and fearful of even the mildest taxation or regulation.

The former group is by no means incorrigibly Trumpist, though the persistence of its support for an entire decade has been truly remarkable, never going below 35 percent in national polls even after the January 6, 2021 coup attempt and the huge revulsion against Trump that followed. Nor is Trumpism a one-person show; rather, it is a deep movement of opinion and practice, as David Norman Smith has recently argued. At the same time, as Bill Fletcher noted last spring with regard to our response going forward, “rank-and-file members of our unions should be won over to fully appreciate the nature of the danger facing us.” In this way, we need to dialogue with at least some elements of that Trumpist base, while also trying to break up the deep pessimism into which many of the more progressive sectors of the working people have fallen.

The rapid shift rightward of the new plutocracy, in response to slights and mild threats to its hegemony, is a more recent phenomenon, as can be seen in the evolution of Elon Musk from moderate liberal during Obama’s time to Trumpist fascist, or more recently, in Facebook founder Mark Zuckerberg’s tilt toward Trump in late 2024. As Naomi Klein exclaimed last spring, the tech billionaires, once hailed as heroes even by many progressive, are so arrogant that “they truly believe they are gods.” The way in which both the Washington Post and the Los Angeles Times refused to publish their usual liberal editorials supporting Kamala Harris in 2024 — at the last-minute direct order of their billionaire owners, Jeff Bezos and Patrick Soon-Shiong — was also a remarkable turn. But as Klein also noted, their alliance with Trump’s more plebeian base is deeply unstable. Nor do these moves have much support among the technical workers or journalists at these big institutions.

What we accomplished in 2025

The Trumpist fascist overreach has led to increased support for a wide array of forms of resistance. Three of these stand out at the end of the year 2025.

First and foremost, the defense of immigrants has been a shining moment of community mobilization and solidarity across ethnic lines. If the mainly Latinx communities being targeted were initially startled and intimidated by massive raids by ICE and the Border Patrol, the dispatch of US Marines and federalized National Guard troops to Los Angeles over the summer constituted a turning point.1 Since Los Angeles is a global media capital, the whole world witnessed the sight of armed troops guarding federal installations, of Latino US Senator Alex Padilla being violently arrested for asking a question of “Cruelty Barbie” Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem inside the Westwood Federal Building, of ICE agents on horseback and in armored vehicles going through a city park full of children taking part in a summer camp, of President David Huerta of the Service Employees International Union (SEIU) in California being throttled and arrested while protesting ICE roundups of working people in Downtown LA, and of the death of a man fleeing onto a highway to avoid ICE—all this turned fear into rage.2 Groups like Union del Barrio, which has been doing this work for decades, organized regional neighbors to come out to protest ICE everywhere, so effectively that they could have protestors at most sites in a matter of minutes. In these networks, unions like SEIU were also crucial actors. After some weeks, amid reports of dissension within the national guard, themselves California residents called up involuntarily, the troop and ICE presence was scaled back, a clear victory for the resistance. At the same time, many arrests of protestors and draconian charges against them resulted in grand juries failing to indict or acquittals by juries of their fellow citizens, most recently in December in the trial of a tow truck driver who had removed an ICE vehicle from blocking a driveway during a raid.

By fall, when ICE and the National Guard hit Chicago, the population was even more fully prepared, with their long trains of civilian cars and their ubiquitous whistles “escorting” ICE agents everywhere, often slowing arrests to a trickle. In Chicago’s more compact urban neighborhoods, government thugs were more easily surrounded and blocked. As LA Times columnist Gustavo Arellano, a champion of immigrant rights, noted during trip to Chicago’s predominantly Mexican American Little Village neighborhood:

We don’t have the whistles. They’ve become the fall soundtrack of the Windy City to the point organizers are holding “Whistlemania” events to hand them out by the thousands. Chicago has a radical legacy that predates LA… People poured out of businesses and their residences. Others looked out from rooftops. The intensity of their pushback was more concentrated, raw and widespread than almost anything I’ve seen back home. It wasn’t just the activists on call — block after block was ready.

As with Chicago, a number of other struggles have not gained the kind of media spotlight that has been shone on LA, but two examples are illustrative: In November, high school youth went on strike in Charlotte, NC to protest ICE raids on their communities. By December, Minneapolis community members also brought their whistles. On a freezing cold afternoon, the community, clearly better adapted to local conditions, outlasted shivering ICE agents, who gave up and left, allowing the people to secure an immigrant from their clutches.

The No Kings Day rallies, in June and in October, demonstrated the breadth of the opposition far and wide to Trumpist fascism, including in small towns in conservative areas of the country. Gigantic marches took place in many major cities, larger in October than in July. While controlled mainly by the liberal Invisible coalition, these events did not exclude either Palestine supporters or leftists, far from it, and they also featured a large trade union presence.

But it was Mamdani’s stunning double electoral victory in New York City that created the largest mobilization in a single city against Trump, with some 1.1 million voting for the democratic socialist, despite tens of millions being spent by billionaires, including centrist Democrats and Republicans, many of them rightwing Zionists who couldn’t believe how much “their” city had changed. To be sure, Mamdani hewed to the doctrines of reform socialism, which included some important economic measures like a wealth tax and free daycare and buses, while backing away from saying anything concrete about police brutality and murder. However, on one point he stood consistently to the left, refusing to back down in his clear support for Palestine, including the charge of genocide against Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu. In a metropolis whose City Council never managed to pass a Gaza ceasefire resolution, this was a stunning outcome indeed. Moreover, Mamdani’s campaign won via true grassroots organizing, over 100,000 volunteers to knocking on 3 million doors, thus bypassing the corporate media. In many cases recruited by the Democratic Socialists of America, these canvassers echoed Socialist Party efforts in cities like Milwaukee a century ago. Two weeks later, Seattle elected Katie Wilson as mayor, defeating a centrist incumbent who’d opposed a wealth tax.

The danger that Trumpism could still triumph

It is very sobering to recall, as mentioned above, that the radicalization of Trumpist actions and policies in his second term, and the growing opposition, has resulted in only a slight diminution of his support base. As also noted above, his core support, as measured by opinion polls, has never gone below about 35 percent, even in the months right after his 2020 electoral defeat and his January 2021 fascist coup attempt. Equally dangerous is the fact that support levels for Trumpism are surely higher inside the military and police apparatus, plus the fact that many of his civilian supporters are armed to the teeth.

As also mentioned above, the last year has also seen a sharp turn toward Trumpism on the part of many big capitalist individuals and firms, ranging from Silicon Valley billionaires to giants of Wall Street. Thus, the most flamboyant among them, Musk, is by no means alone. Other plutocrats have not expressed open support but acquiesced more quietly. Still others have tacked in a parallel direction, as seen in Bill Gates’s recent abandonment of environmental initiatives. All this gives Trumpism, at least for now, much more solid support among the dominant classes and their representatives than during his first term.

A look at Ronald Reagan’s presidency in the 1980s is instructive here too, since it shows how the resistance Trump is experiencing now could conceivably fade. Elected with just over 50 percent of the vote in 1980, Reagan met with fierce and massive opposition during his first few years. But an easy military victory in the 1983 Grenada invasion, amid footage of “rescued” white US students and of captured Black Grenadian soldiers, put the opposition — both electoral and grassroots — on the back foot for several years. This allowed Reagan to win a 59 percent popular vote landslide in 1984 and to consolidate neoliberalism for decades to come. Trump’s present military maneuvers against Venezuela, if successful in toppling the Maduro government without a fight, could offer him a “Grenada” boost. But Venezuela is a much larger country — with a population of 30 million versus Grenada’s 100,000 in 1983 — that would not be easy pickings.

While these examples are indeed worrisome, it needs also to be recalled that Trump has never received the kind of popular support that Reagan or Nixon achieved, let alone Woodrow Wilson during the First World War–era Red Scare. As of now, the opposition to Trumpist fascism is deep and wide, with no sign of abating. And while he is using the state apparatus in vicious, extremely destructive ways, he has not succeeded in intimidating his foes on the streets or at the ballot box—quite the contrary. While a semi-coup is of course possible, in forms like militarized voter suppression during the 2026 midterm elections, this seems unlikely for a presidency whose popularity is hovering around 40 percent. Of course, more severe repression, carried out by the elements of the state in league with vigilantes like the Proud Boys, could possibly silence the opposition. But that would take far greater force than anything seen up to now, including mass arrests and the violent intimidation of large sectors of the population. There are of course precedents for this, like the KKK and allied forces in the South from the 1870s to the 1960s. One sign to watch in this regard would be if Trumpist forces could create no go zones in states where they exercise a great degree of political domination. But so far, they have not been able to do so.

If the worm has indeed turned, what now?

Despite the above concerns, and they are undoubtedly serious ones, the tide seems indeed to have turned sharply against Trumpism as the year 2026 dawns. Republican congressional representatives are resigning either due to simple weariness or differences over the Epstein files or the prospect of skyrocketing healthcare costs. Even the right-wing Supreme Court blocked his use of the National Guard in Chicago as 2025 was coming to an end. The opposition, both grassroots and electoral, is gaining strength and confidence across the country. At the same time, tremendous damage has already been done and will continue to be done to the social and political fabric of an already wounded society as long as this regime is in power.

We need to continue and deepen the struggle, making it as broad as possible while still fighting for our principles within that struggle. As Marxists, we especially need to highlight the issues of class, race/gender/sexuality, environment, imperialism, and national liberation. Thus, we must insist that that class oppression and resistance remain at the center, whether in the defense of immigrant day laborers or more privileged US government workers. We also need to struggle within our unions and our communities for class unity versus racism, sexism, and xenophobia, cutting into the Trumpist base. The national liberation of the Palestinian people, who are struggling for their very existence in the face of genocidal Israeli colonialism, and Venezuela’s right to maintain its independence against Trumpist imperialism, cannot be sacrificed to any mythical “broader” unity. Nor can that of trans people, who are also fighting for their very existence, amid silence even among progressives. The protection of the environment cannot be put on the back burner, despite calls even from progressive to do so on a “temporary” basis, or to resort to nuclear power.

We need to build up organizations and coalitions that cut across all these issues and constituencies, but not in a way that erases their particularity, or that ignores capital and class. In order to do so, we will need build the struggle theoretically as well, against mainstream liberals who want to brush aside the most “controversial” issues, against some types of radicals who may wish to downplay the importance of capital and class, and against those among the Marxists and socialists who attack what they call “identity politics” in ways that cut us off from some of the most revolutionary forces in society today by downplaying race or the historical links of capitalist accumulation to colonialism and slavery.

At a time when some on the left are saying that we need to break completely with the tradition of the Russian revolution, of Lenin, I would argue the opposite. At a juncture like ours, when the world has changed in wrenching fashion, when established progressive forces are hesitating or even betraying, Lenin’s intransigence in opposing the imperialist First World War, an epochal event that created a civilizational crisis for the “West,” is still relevant. But it is not only that. In opposing war and imperialism, Lenin was joined by a number of other leaders and thinkers, from Eugene Debs and Leon Trotsky to Emma Goldman and Rosa Luxemburg. What Lenin did differently from these others was to dig deeply into revolutionary theory amid all the chaos of war and repression. First, he made a profound study of Hegel’s dialectic. Second, out of that he developed his epochal theory of imperialism and of anticolonial, national liberation movements as a key to future revolutions, from India and China to Ireland. Third, in the summer of 1917, even as he was fleeing what seemed to be a wave of reaction that could repress the revolution, he wrote his masterpiece The State and Revolution. He and his comrades also made serious errors, which we can also learn from, but on the above matters he can still inspire us, most of all on the need to unite theory and practice, to face and analyze what is new very deeply even as one continues the socialist struggle without betraying its longstanding principles.

Thus, we need to renew and deepen the struggle in the streets, the schools, and the workplaces, while at the same time renewing and deepening our theoretical groundings.

Kevin B. Anderson’s authored books include Marx at the Margins: On Nationalism, Ethnicity, and Non-Western Societies and Lenin, Hegel, and Western Marxism. Among his edited books are The Power of Negativity by Raya Dunayevskaya (with Peter Hudis), Karl Marx (with Bertell Ollman), The Rosa Luxemburg Reader (with P. Hudis), and The Dunayevskaya-Marcuse-Fromm Correspondence (with Russell Rockwell).






Saturday, December 13, 2025

 

Marx on communal villages as loci of revolution in Russia and beyond


Russian mir

First published at New Politics. Excerpted with permission from chapter 6 of The Late Marx’s Revolutionary Roads: Colonialism, Gender, and Indigenous Communism

Two years before his 1879–82 notebooks on communal social forms around the world, Marx begins to see an uprising in Russia as the most likely starting point for a wider European revolution. For example, in remarks on the Russo-Turkish War (the “oriental crisis”) in a letter of September 27, 1877, to the New Jersey communist Friedrich Sorge, Marx views Russia as a cauldron of revolution:

That crisis marks a new turning point in European history. Russia — and I have studied conditions there from the original Russian sources, unofficial and official (the latter only available to a few people but got for me through friends in Petersburg) — has long been on the verge of an upheaval. The gallant Turks have hastened the explosion by years with the thrashing they have inflicted, not only upon the Russian army and Russian finances, but in a highly personal and individual manner on the dynasty commanding the army (the Tsar, the heir to the throne and six other Romanovs). The upheaval will begin secundum artem [according to the rules of the art] with some playing at constitutionalism and then there will be a fine row. If Mother Nature is not particularly unfavorable toward us, we shall still live to see the fun! The stupid nonsense which the Russian students are perpetrating is only a symptom, worthless in itself. But it is a symptom. All sections of Russian society are in complete disintegration economically, morally, and intellectually. This time the revolution will begin in the East, hitherto the unbroken bulwark and reserve army of counterrevolution. (Marx-Engels Collected Works [hereafter MECW], 45: 278)

In this period, the last years of Marx’s life, I know of no other consideration of revolutionary possibilities in any other country equivalent to what he is expressing here concerning Russia. This is illustrated in how, in the very same letter, Marx dismisses the prospects of revolution in France, still suffering under the wave of reaction that set in after the defeat of the Paris Commune, and where the republicans were battling the threat of a military dictatorship: “The French crisis is an altogether secondary affair compared with the oriental one. Yet one can only hope the bourgeois republic wins” (MECW 45: 278). In the event, Russia defeated Turkey the following year, thus attenuating for the moment the internal crisis Marx foresaw in 1877. But he did not alter his position on the underlying issues eating away at the Russian social order. This is seen in a letter to Wilhelm Liebknecht four months later, in which he remarked that, while Turkey’s defeat had for the moment forestalled a revolutionary outbreak, he continued to believe that “all the elements are present in abundant measure” for a “social revolution” in Russia “and hence radical change throughout Europe” (Letter of February 4, 1878, MECW 45: 296).

Fifteen months later, in a letter to French socialist Jules Guesde dated May 10, 1879, which has come to light only recently, Marx writes in a similar vein concerning the world revolution starting in Russia. But, here, he details how it might reach Western Europe and the obstacles it would face there:

I am convinced that the explosion of the revolution will begin this time not in the West but in the Orient, in Russia. It will first impact the two other harsh despotisms [illegible word], Austria and Germany, where a violent upheaval [bouleversement] has become a historical necessity. It is of the highest importance that at the moment of this general crisis in Europe we find the French proletariat already having been organized into [constitué] a workers’ party and ready to play its role. As to England, the material elements for its social transformation are superabundant, but a driving spirit [l’esprit moteur] is lacking. It will not form up, except under the impact of the explosion of events on the Continent. It must never be forgotten that, however impoverished [misérable] the condition of the greater part of the English working class, it takes part nonetheless, to a certain extent, in the British Empire’s domination of the world market, or, what is even worse, imagines itself to be taking part in it.1

As in the 1877 letter to Sorge and the 1878 one to Liebknecht, Marx sees the revolution breaking out first in Russia.

But, here, sounding notes similar to those in the Confidential Communication on Ireland of 1870, he expresses strong, perhaps even stronger, reservations about the level of class consciousness among English workers, here stressing their affective ties to the Empire. This should not, however, be taken to mean that Marx has given up on the English working class, any more than in the Confidential Communication of nine years earlier. Also, as in 1870, he sees France in a crucial role but provides more details. His failure to mention the Paris Commune in a letter that would likely have been read by the French police may be due to ongoing political repression of those associated with it. And, in a way, Russia is now a replacement for Ireland, as the land where the revolution is most likely to detonate first. Different, of course, is the lack of Russian working-class immigration, of anything similar to the Irish subproletariat in Britain, and the fact that Russia is not under colonial domination. The letter constitutes a multifaceted sketch of how the next European revolution would likely break out and move forward, written from a seamlessly internationalist perspective that also takes very specific account of local and national circumstances. Editor Jean-Numa Ducange is absolutely correct to refer to “France,” the “Orient,” and the “West” in his title for the article containing the letter. It should also be noted that, in his response, Guesde shows a narrow focus on France, responding only to remarks by Marx about various socialist tendencies in his country, not even mentioning Marx’s key point about the European revolution breaking out first in Russia. Here, not only can we discern a Western disinterest in revolutionary movements emanating from the non-industrialized societies to the East, but we are also on the road toward the Second International’s focus on socialist parties in each nation operating quite separately from each other, joined together only in a loose federation.

In this 1878–79 correspondence, Marx does not mention Russia’s communal villages. It is only in his very last publication that Marx finally combines these two elements, Russia as starting point for a new round of revolution in Europe and the Russian village commune as source of resistance to capital, of revolution, and of communism. He does so in a new preface, coauthored with Engels, to the 1882 Russian edition of Communist Manifesto. This brief preface, drafted in December 1881, adds discussion of both the US and Russia, each of them hardly mentioned in 1848 but since then having risen to great prominence, the US for its surging industrial economy, and Russia for its plethora of revolutionary movements.

Without being aware of the letter to Zasulich and other discussions by Marx of the Russian village commune, all of which lay unpublished in 1882, the reference to these communes as loci of revolution might have been easy to miss, especially given its brevity:

Can the Russian obshchina, a form, albeit heavily eroded, of the primeval communal ownership of the land, pass directly into the higher, communist form of communal ownership? Or must it first go through the same process of dissolution that marks the West’s historical development? The only answer that is possible today is: Were [wird] the Russian revolution to become the signal for a proletarian revolution in the West [im Westen], so that the two fulfill [ergänzen]2 each other, then the present Russian communal landownership may serve as the point of departure [zum Ausgangspunkt] for a communist development. (Late Marx and the Russian Road, edited by Teodor Shanin, New York: Monthly Review Press, 1983 [hereafter SHN]: 139; MEGA2 I/25: 296)

Neither in the above lines in the 1882 preface to the Manifesto nor in his correspondence with Russians in his last years does Marx acknowledge a change of position. Still, the changes since the 1840s and early 1850s are clear. For, in the earlier period, he viewed Russia as an utterly reactionary power, but, by now, Russia had become for him the likely starting point of a wider revolution.

Interestingly, the last clause of the above was altered in the hand-written original, with a different wording crossed out, presumably at the end of the process of writing the preface. With the crossed-out text intact, the preface would have ended with the phrase “communal land- ownership’s ruin may be avoided” (MEGA2 I/25: 974). If, as is then likely, the substitute phrase about the commune “as the point of departure for a communist development” was added at the last minute, this heightens the possibility that the final wording constituted a theoretical innovation on Marx’s part.

The above sentences — in what was Marx’s last publication — exhibit a complex and intricate dialectic that needs to be unpacked. It is important to note that the quest for the free development of the Russian commune is not unconditioned, a point that is made explicit here, versus being left only implicit in the 1881 drafts of the letter to Zasulich. Russia can avoid the dissolution of its rural communes and the destructive process of the primitive accumulation of capital if the effort to do so is accompanied by a “proletarian revolution in the West.”

There are two contingencies here, which form part of a totality riven with contradictions and various possibilities. Were a Russian revolution to break out ahead of one in the West — likely on the basis of a revolution rooted in the rural communes and their resistance both to the state and to capitalist incursions — then a wider European revolution would be touched off not in Western Europe but in Russia. In this case, Russia’s Indigenous form of rural communism would become the spark, “as the point of departure” for a wider revolution and transition to a modern, positive form of communism. Thus, there could be no successful transformation of the Russian communes into a modern communism without a proletarian revolution in Western Europe, but the strong possibility also existed that a revolution in Russia could touch off such an event in the West.

Despite being published in Russian and soon after in German, the 1882 preface was almost completely forgotten. This forgetting — by the “post- Marx Marxists, beginning with Frederick Engels,”3 in Dunayevskaya’s pungent formulation — can be seen in Engels’s letter to Karl Kautsky two years later, on February 16, 1884:

[In Java] today, primitive communism (so long as it has not been stirred up by some element of modern communism) furnishes the finest and broadest basis of exploitation and despotism, as well as in India and Russia, and survives in the midst of modern society as an anachronism (to be eliminated or, one almost might say, turned back on its course) no less than the mark communities of the original cantons. (MECW 47:103)

In the above, Engels places so much emphasis on the need of these pre-capitalist communes, whether the village communes of Java or the traditional German/Swiss “mark community” or village commune, to be “stirred up by modern communism” that the 1882 preface recedes almost to the vanishing point. Instead, unlike Marx, he seems largely to have maintained their Eurocentric positions of the 1850s, which held that these kinds of communal forms were the foundation of “Oriental despotism.” It seems, therefore, that Engels never changed his position on the Russian village commune very much.

The newness of Marx’s 1882 formulation can also be seen when compared to the drafts of the letter to Vera Zasulich written nine months earlier, in March 1881. As discussed in previous chapters, in those drafts Marx saw the Russian village commune as something distinct from Western European villages. In the West, individuals and family groups, or agricultural laborers working for wages, worked specific plots of land, which were held as private property or at least with possessory rights held by families. In the Russian village, both work groups and property relations were instead organized communally, with individual families having a share in the commune as a whole but not receiving ownership or even long-term possession of a specific piece of agricultural land.

But the Zasulich texts comprised letters and drafts, not programmatic texts, unlike the 1882 preface to the Manifesto. Here, albeit briefly, Marx looks through a wider lens, incorporating the Russian village into the system of global capitalism and its dialectical opposite, the movements of revolution and resistance by a wide variety of social groups throughout that system, from London and Paris to Saint Petersburg. In this way, he makes his theorization of revolution in Russia and Western Europe clearer than anywhere else, despite the brevity of the text.

Some forty years ago, as the late Marx was being first put forward on an international level as a topic of research by those like Dunayevskaya and Shanin, three different lines of interpretation could already be discerned. First, in Shanin’s 1983 volume, Late Marx and the Russian Road, an essay by the British Marxists Derek Sayer and Philip Corrigan took the position that there was nothing really new here, “that Marx’s late texts represent not so much a radical break as a clarification of how his ‘mature’ texts should have been read in the first place” (SHN: 80). This approach continues today among those who acknowledge the originality of the late Marx but see it as simply continuous in this respect with the young Marx and with the mature Marx of Grundrisse and Capital. In other words, Marx remains brilliant but there are no fundamental changes in the period 1869–82.

A second and seemingly more fruitful approach, also found in the Shanin collection, acknowledges important changes of perspective by Marx after 1869, so much so that they constitute a break in his thought. This is the position of Shanin himself in 1983. This approach is also found in the essay by the Japanese Marx scholar Haruki Wada, who carries out a deep textual analysis. Nearly a decade before the collapse of the Soviet Union and even before the ascendency of Mikhail Gorbachev, Wada had managed to obtain access to some of Marx’s papers in Moscow, something almost invariably denied to researchers from outside the Soviet bloc. Wada begins by discussing some of Marx’s statements in the drafts of the letter to Zasulich about the possibility of a revolution emanating from the Russian village communes — “a Russian revolution is required, if the Russian commune is to be saved” — and contrasts them with Marx’s earlier judgments from the 1850s to the effect that the communes were conservative and that radical change would need to come from outside, from the Western proletarian revolution (SHN: 67). Wada also notes that Marx has by now become a supporter of the Russian Populists and their idea of a peasant revolution and direct attacks on the autocratic state. Wada writes that this contrasted with those around Zasulich, who awaited the development of an industrial proletariat for a revolution. Finally, Wada observes that Engels never really changed regarding their old view of Russia from the 1850s, and he notes Marx’s declining health by late 1881, when the request for a new preface arrived.

Wada also notes that the surviving draft of their introduction to the Manifesto was in Engels’s handwriting. From all this, Wada concludes Marx must have “asked Engels to make a draft, and put his signature to it” (SHN: 70). This seemingly rigorous argument is less convincing than it seems. I am aware of no case — as seen most clearly early on in their collaboration in 1847–48 on the Communist Manifesto, and for which Engels’s early draft has been preserved — in which Marx was not clearly the senior author in any of their joint writings. More substantively, Engels never wrote anything similar to the 1882 preface after Marx’s death, even though he quoted it on one occasion, as he continued to view the Russian commune as something backward and without any revolutionary potential. Thus, Marx is almost certainly the author of the 1882 preface.

At a more general level, Wada’s argument lends itself to the notion that Marx saw the Russian commune as an autonomous force of revolution that could establish a society that could recede from world capitalism and build a viable socialism on its own resources, not only without leadership from the “Western” proletariat but also without even their participation or that of already industrialized societies. In short, we do not need the working class for radical, anti-capitalist revolution. Here too, a variety of thinkers, from Maoists of the 1960s and ’70s (as Wada himself was at the time) to radical ecologists in more recent years, have picked up on this strand of argument, not always to good effect.

Dunayevskaya articulates a third kind of argument concerning the late Marx. As a relative outsider to the Marxist intellectual establishment of the time, she was not invited to contribute to the Shanin collection, but, in this period, she addresses not only the late Marx on Russia but also the Ethnological Notebooks. Overall, she sees both “new moments” and continuities in Marx’s late writings, writing that, in the Ethnological Notebooks, “he was completing the circle begun in 1844” and “was diving into the study of human development, both in different historic periods and in the most basic Man/Woman relationship.”4 All this was couched in terms of Marx’s concept of “revolution in permanence,” as put forth in the 1850 “Address to the Communist League,” and which is seen to have marked his entire work thereafter.5 The 1844 reference concerns the startlingly radical paragraph from the 1844 Manuscripts on gender with which de Beauvoir ended The Second Sex, as discussed in chapter 2. Whether in Marx’s notes on Morgan, as discussed in chapter 1, or in the late Marx on the Russian communal village, Dunayevskaya stresses not only the ways in which Iroquois clans or Russian village communes offered an alternative to capitalism but also how even these precapitalist forms of communism exhibited social contradictions, including over gender. Moreover, these were, for her, not just historical but contemporary issues:

These studies enabled Marx (Marx, not Engels) to see the possibility of new human relations, not as they might come through a mere “updating” of primitive communism’s equality of the sexes, as among the Iroquois, but as Marx sensed they would burst forth from a new type of revolution.6

In this sense, Marx’s exploration of gender in the Ethnological Notebooks was connected to those on the Russian village commune, and to gender in other clan and communal societies Marx studies in his last years, with all this connected to “a new type of revolution.”

Dunayevskaya also finds deep connections between what was going on in Russia and the capitalist societies of Western Europe. Thus she stresses, with regard to Russia, that it would be

a capitalist world in crisis . . . which creates favorable conditions for transforming primitive communism into a modern collective society: “In order to save the Russian commune there must be a Russian Revolution.” In a word, revolution is indispensable, whether one has to go through capitalism, or can go to the new society “directly” from the commune.7

In commenting on the 1882 preface, she writes that it “projected the idea that Russia could be the first to have a proletarian revolution ahead of the West.”8 That is, a Russian revolution could surge ahead of one in the West, forming a starting point, but it could not remain alone if it were to be successful. It could not win out in long-term isolation from the Western proletariat.

I took a position similar to that of my mentor Dunayevskaya on the 1882 preface in Marx at the Margins, noting that “a Russian revolution based upon its agrarian communal forms would be a necessary, but not a sufficient condition for the development of a modern communism.”9 It would be necessary, though, to shake the Western proletariat out of the doldrums into which it had descended with the defeat of the Paris Commune, and soon after, of Reconstruction in the US. This amounted to the setting in of a global era of reaction in the West, after the revolutionary period of the 1860s through the early 1870s. That is why I began the present chapter with Marx’s Ireland essay on the interrelationship of the agrarian periphery’s revolutionary struggles to that of the working class in the metropole. That is also why I took up Marx on the “Western” Paris Commune, also in this chapter, just before considering Marx on the Russian commune. Still, the Russian commune and similar social forms around the world were, in Marx’s eyes, crucial “starting points” for global revolution and also points for the conceptualization of an alternative to capitalism. His interest in Russia deepened as it became the first country where Capital was translated (in 1872), and where, unlike in Germany, the book was extensively discussed by the intellectuals, and where a vibrant, youthful revolutionary movement — composed of students and young intellectuals who sought to stir up a peasant revolution based upon the village commune — was growing by leaps and bounds.

It must be underlined that Marx, while rejecting unilinear notions of progress and development, was calling neither for the preservation of these village communes nor for their return to a “purer” state than the one presently under capitalist encroachment. Nor was he calling for a revolution based upon rural Russia alone. Instead, all this was part of a broader, global strategic view of revolution, around the “agrarian question,” something that dogs the left to this day. This problem is addressed by the French Marxist thinker Isabelle Garo:

Thus, the traditional commune is to be conceived not as a model to be generalized but as the possible social and, above all, political lever of an alliance between the working class and the exploited peasant class, a lever at once indispensable and extremely difficult to construct.10

The young Brazilian economist Guilherme Nunes Pires cautions that for Marx, “only with the Western proletarian revolution and the incorporation in the rural commune of the most advanced techniques of production” could a “transition by a non-capitalist road . . . to a classless society” take place.11 These are valid points, but, at the same time, it should be noted that Marx is reversing the directionality of the European revolution in his 1877–78 letters and in the 1882 preface to the Manifesto when he writes of revolution in Russia based on the commune as such as a revolution’s “point of departure.”

Looking at the problem in this more general, global sense, I would argue that Marx’s writings on the Russian village commune and revolution, especially the 1882 preface to the Manifesto, are just the tip of the iceberg. They form part of a vast project in which, as we have seen, he made hundreds of thousands of words of notes on anthropological and social history studies of India, Indonesia, North Africa, precolonial and colonial Latin America, Russia, ancient Rome, precolonial Ireland, and a variety of preliterate societies, from the Indigenous clans of the Americas to the Homeric Greeks. These notes also deal extensively with gender, especially in Greece, Rome, Ireland, and the Americas.

These voluminous notes are deeply connected to Marx’s new notions of revolution. To be sure, we cannot know what he would have done with this material, including how he would have incorporated it into subsequent volumes of Capital. Still, it may be worthwhile to sketch the kind of globalized theory of revolution and of the alternative to capitalism that might have flowed out of these studies in his last working years, 1879–82.

  1. As Marx states explicitly, resistance on the part of Russia’s communal villages to capitalist encroachment could form the “point of departure” for a European revolution if it developed links to the Western proletariat. This is connected to the fact that, by the late 1870s, he saw Russia as the country with the greatest level of revolutionary unrest, with the most determined revolutionary movement, with the greatest interest in Capital, and therefore the most likely starting point for a wider European revolution. He sees its villages as more communistic in their internal relations than the Western European village under feudalism or capitalism.
  2. In his notes on Algeria’s clans, communal villages, and their resistance to French imperialism, Marx connects the fear of the metropolitan French ruling classes over this anti-colonial resistance to their fear of the modern communism of the Paris Commune that broke out under their very noses in 1871. Here, something similar to his 1882 preface is evident, the relationship of the Algerian anticolonial and Indigenous struggles against French colonialism to those in the metropole, which, in this period, experienced the Paris Commune, a unique social revolution that moved toward a non-statist form of communism on the largest scale attempted anywhere up to that point. Moreover, Marx singles out the heroism of the women Communards, as well as the ways in which French colonialism deepened patriarchal domination in Algeria, signs of the importance of women’s struggles to revolutionary and anticolonial movements.
  3. In his notes on precolonial and colonial Latin America, Marx singles out the persistence of Indigenous communal social structures even after the establishment of Spanish colonialism, also noting that Spain’s relatively underdeveloped capitalism did not undermine these structures as radically as did British colonialism in India. He also notes that these communal societies were much more resilient than modern capitalism in terms of sustainable agriculture and safeguarding food supplies and other necessities of life in anticipation of natural disasters and crises of other kinds. He singles out as well the prominent position of women in these networks of sustainability.
  4. In his notes on the Indian Subcontinent, the area of the world he covered most extensively in the 1879–82 research notebooks at the center of this study, Marx writes of the persistence, albeit with important evolutionary changes, of communal social structures that persisted for millennia. Important communal elements remained even after these structures were severely undermined, and sometimes destroyed, by capitalist “modernization” policies imposed in the 1790s under British colonialism. Thus, these clan and communal structures underlay the late seventeenth-century uprising led by Maratha rebel Shivaji against the Mughal Empire, and they continued as the Marathas fought the Mughals and then the British, through Marx’s own time. In addition, he points to “rural communes” as sources of resistance to British colonial rule and to its imposition of capitalist social relations. Moreover, despite the longstanding suppression of women’s rights on the part of Hindu religious authorities during the precolonial and colonial periods, Marx also notes that women emerged as military leaders during the massive anticolonial Sepoy Uprising of 1857–59.
  5. In his 1881 notes on communal and clan structures in precolonial Ireland, Marx emphasizes the persistence of these social forms through his own time. He also stresses how, even before the arrival of British overlords, who imposed feudal social relations, the ancient communal forms were being undermined by incipient class structures among the Celts themselves. He also singles out the social power women held in the days before the British conquest, and how this was expressed in ancient Irish clan law. Had he taken up Ireland and revolution in the 1880s, he would likely have brought this research on communal forms and gender into his theorization of agrarian resistance to colonialism and class rule by aristocratic landlords.

In any or all these ways, Marx may have been intending to connect his research on communal and clan societies to specific areas of the world that were experiencing struggles against colonialism and class rule, as he did in the 1882 preface to the Russian edition of the Communist Manifesto.

Can the extensive notes on Native American societies, especially in the Morgan notes, also be fitted into the framework outlined in the 1882 preface? Here, any relationship would have to be seen at a higher level of generalization. In both sets of notes, gender comes to the fore as a central social category. In the case of Morgan and Native American societies of North America, this involves studying how gender subordination was at the root of many other forms of social hierarchy. At the same time, Marx investigates relative gender equality in Indigenous America, while not adhering to the idyllic portraits of these societies found in Morgan, or, for that matter, Engels. One can say, based on our present evidence, that it is likely that, after grappling with Morgan and critically absorbing his data, Marx would have centered gender in new ways had he ever written up the results of his 1879–82 notebooks more fully.

The notes on Morgan especially, but also those on ancient Greco-Roman society, as well as those on Ireland, investigate the origins not only of patriarchy but also of slavery and of class society. At the same time, these notes, especially those on Morgan, show alternatives to the forms of patriarchy and class rule prevalent in Marx’s lifetime. In this sense, they contribute to his theorization of alternatives to capitalism. Löwy addressed this problem nearly three decades ago: “The idea that a modern communism would find some of its human dimension from the ‘primitive communism’ destroyed by the civilization founded upon private property and the state” was a major theme for the late Marx.12

Finally, it should be noted that, in a number of the cases Marx explores — India after Britain’s undermining of the communal village, Latin America after the arrival of Spanish colonialism, Ireland under British rule, Algeria under French rule, or the Russian village commune under pressure from capitalism — he sees the communal forms within these societies as taking on especially revolutionary dimensions in times of social stress and crisis. Thus, it is not the preservation of these communal forms so much as their role in a global revolutionary movement — of English factory workers, of Irish tenant farmers, of impoverished Irish workers in Britain, of Algerians struggling against French domination, of Russian villagers seeking to defend their way of life in the face of capitalist penetration, of Indian villagers and clans using remnants of older communal formations to struggle against dynastic or colonial oppression — that, heterogenous as it was, offered real possibilities of a transformation that was as global as was capitalism itself. It cannot be stressed enough that unrest and uprisings, as in Russia, often broke out only after the communal forms had, to a great extent, disappeared, at least on the surface, and struggles based upon or influenced by these social forms intersected with more modern-facing ones. Thus, it was not so much defense of these forms as they were, as seeing them as elements of revolutionary energy and renewal of society on a totally new basis.

As we have seen in this chapter, in his last years, Marx developed three new concepts of revolution alongside that of a united working-class uprising. First, in 1869–70, he conceptualized a British workers’ revolution sparked by an uprising in France and especially by an agrarian national revolution in Ireland, which would shake up the quasi-racist false consciousness of English workers and unite them with their immigrant Irish coworkers. Second, in his writings on the Paris Commune and his Critique of the Gotha Program, Marx theorizes working-class forms of revolution against capital that also target and abolish the modern centralized state while moving toward an emancipatory alternative. Third, Marx writes of revolutions beginning in non-capitalist agrarian societies like Russia that were imbued with communal village systems, which, in resisting capitalist encroachments, could become the base for a large social revolution. These movements could also connect to the revolutionary labor movement of Western Europe and North America, and they would, if victorious, be able to build on their archaic forms of communism as part of the struggle for a modern, democratic form of communism. In each of these struggles, groups subject to super-oppression, whether women or oppressed minorities, would likely play leading parts.

These three kinds of revolutions are a most important legacy of the late Marx, with equally important insights for today. This is the case, whether in analyzing the structures of oppression and domination, in conceptualizing all the multifarious forces of liberation that are in a position to challenge them, including all their contradictions with each other, and in theorizing what a real alternative to the exploitative, racist, sexist, heterosexist world of capitalism and its class domination would look like.

  • 1

    Jean-Numa Ducange, “Une lettre inédite de Karl Marx à Jules Guesde sur la France, l’‘Orient’ et l’ ‘Occident’ (1879),” ActuelMarx73 (2023), p. 112.

  • 2

    Could also be translated as “complement” or “complete,” the latter a stronger term that I have rendered here a bit more colloquially as “fulfill.”

  • 3

    Raya Dunayevskaya, RosaLuxemburg,Women’sLiberation,andMarx’sPhilosophy of Revolution, second edition (Urbana: University of Illinois Press [1982] 1991), p. 175. This is particularly poignant given the fact that the original manuscript of the 1882 preface is in Engels’s hand (MEGA2 I/25: 297). Engels quotes the 1882 preface in full in his 1890 preface to a new German edition but does not discuss its implications, and he otherwise restricts the rest of his preface to Western Europe and North America (MECW 27: 53–60).

  • 4

    Dunayevskaya, Rosa Luxemburg, pp. 188, 190.

  • 5

    Ibid.p. 186.

  • 6

    Ibid., p. 190.

  • 7

    Ibid., p. 183.

  • 8

    Ibid., p. 187.

  • 9

    Kevin B. Anderson, Marx at the Margins: On Nationalism, Ethnicity, and Non-Western Societies (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, [2010] 2016), p. 235.

  • 10

    Isabelle Garo, Communism and Strategy: Rethinking Political Mediation (London: Verso, [2019] 2023), p. 214.

  • 11

    Guilherme Nunes Pires, “Marx and Russia: The Russian Road and the Myth of Historical Determinism,” Ciencias Humanas e Socais, Vol. 1 (2023), p. 74.

  • 12

    Michael Löwy, “La dialectique du progrès et l’enjeu actuel des mouvements sociaux,” Congrès Marx International. Centans de marxisme. Bilan critique et perspectives (Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1996), p. 200.