Four Ways to Repel Trump’s Far Right Populism – European Insights

By Thomas Klikauer

November 14, 2024
Source: Originally published by Z. Feel free to share widely.


Source: federal government of Germany: https://jugendstrategie.de/warum-ist-rechtspopulismus-gefaehrlich/


With the rise of far right populism and seen from a distance, right-wing anti-democratic forces may look a bit like real democrats. But far right populism remains dead set at manipulating and hollowing out democracy.

While play-acting to be democrats, these pretend-to-be democrats can play a rather decisive role in the manipulation and unhinging of democracy.

In general, the outmanoeuvring and undermining of democracy comes once right-wing populists are in power or close to it in, for example, a co-governing coalition government.

Meanwhile, democracy is under threat, globally. Worldwide, the prerequisites, such as an open society, for the functioning of democracy are dwindling more and more. This is flanked by the rise of right-wing authoritarianism.

Meanwhile, democratic politicians and political parties committed to the survival of democracy are all too often ambushed by right-wing populism. To fight such far right traps, real democrats need to meet three basic necessities:Elections:

True democrats must accept the result of free and fair elections whether they have won or lost in those elections. Democratic political parties must acknowledge defeats without hesitation. Political Violence:

Accepting democracy also means democratic political parties must unambiguously reject political violence, including the threat of violence when achieving political goals. In other words, democratic politicians who support military coups, organise coups, instigate uprisings, plan murders and bomb attacks and other terrorist acts. Democratic politicians cannot set up militias, thugs, and killer squads to intimidate, beat up and kill political opponents. Any party and political actor violating even “one” of these two basic rules must be considered as a peril to democracy. Repelling Far Right Henchmen:

It remains imperative for committed democrats to repel, reject and break up with all anti-democratic forces. Those who attack democracy often have – stealthy and otherwise – collaborators, sidekicks, and henchmen. In many cases, these are political insiders pretending to adhere to democratic rules. Yet, they secretly or – less likely – openly undermine democracy. These are the “pretend-to-be”, but ultimately fake democrats.

In the third group are established politicians who “outwardly” appear to live up to democratic rules and, worse, can be rather successful in doing so.

On the surface, they never take part in all too obvious anti-democratic actions. Far right façade democrats achieve their goal of outwitting honest and true democrats by manipulating – but not by all too obviously eliminating – democracy.

Yet, their anti-democratic thumbprints are rarely found on the murder weapon that turned democracy into a tool of far-right authoritarianism.

Yet, democrats should not be fooled, these pretend-to-be democratic politicians can still play a rather decisive – albeit hidden – role in the wanted breakdown of real democracy.

True democrats always and most definitely condemn anti-democratic behaviours. Meanwhile, pretend-to-be democrats behave ambivalently.

It is precisely this ambiguity of presenting themselves as democrats while – simultaneously – working towards the destruction of true democracy that renders them extremely dangerous.

Openly far right authoritarian and Neo-Nazi figures, on the other hand, are easily recognisable. By contrast, right-wing populists aren’t.

However, far right populists often lack enough public support and democratic legitimacy to destroy a true democracy on their own – just as Hitler failed to get above 50% of voter support in 1933.

Yet, when far right democrats – natively, ideologically, or otherwise – give the enemies of democracy and far right populists their patronage, openly and “not-so-openly” authoritarian forces become even more dangerous to democracy.

Democracies can also get into trouble when established democratic parties tolerate – for ideological, tactical reasons, or otherwise – right-wing authoritarian extremists. In some cases, democrats can pave the way towards far-right authoritarianism.

In fact, the cooperation between authoritarian forces and seemingly respectable pretend-to-be democrats has, historically, always been a harbinger of the collapse of democracy. The Nazi strategist Carl Schmitt believed: democracy can make fascism possible.

Beyond the Nazi’s destruction of democracy remains one of the key problems on how to distinguish true democrats from pretend-to-be democrats.

Potentially, one element is their attitude towards political violence. Anti- and pretend-to-be democrats secretly or openly support violence while truly democratic political parties work inside the democratic system and reject violence.

The next test is the difference between true democrats and pretend-to-be democratic politicians’ reaction to violent and anti-democratic behaviours.

It remains relatively easy to condemn violence and authoritarian behaviours of outright Neo-Nazis and far right terrorists. In general, traditional conservatives, for example – rather frequently and rather reliably – tend to condemn violent and radical acts.

Another key aspect of political violence is the fact that far right populist’s political parties often feature a more radical, anti-democratic, and a more violent youth wing. Many party leaders and activists of far-right parties have previously belonged to such organisations.

The transition of MSI-style Italo-fascism to prime minister or the transition of German Neo-Nazis into democratic parliaments for the AfD are no exceptions. Unlike such Neo-Nazis, neo-fascists, and most importantly, also pretend-to-be democrats, true democrats, on the other hand, obey four democratic rules:

Firstly, Repelling anti-democratic focuses:

truly democratic political parties remove anti-democratic elements from their ranks, and they do this even when they turn their own party base against them. In sharp contrast, pretend-to-be democratic political parties tolerate anti-democratic extremists and, worse, offer them a political home and even worse, an institutional home. The neo-fascist AfD offered 100 Neo-Nazis a home in German parliaments.

Secondly, Rejecting alliances and coalitions with the far right:

real and true democrats cut off “all” links to groups, individuals, and political parties that behave anti-democratically. True democrats never enter into alliances with far-right populists. They refuse in supporting right-wing populists and avoid public appearances with them. Real democrats do not conduct secret tactical conversations with far-right populists – not openly and not behind closed doors. Unlike real democrats, pretend-to-be democrats cooperate with anti-democratic extremists. Worse, they also enter into political cooperation, alliances and even coalitions with the far right. More often and this is harder to detect, their cooperation can be casual or unofficial. Worse, pretend-to-be democrats keep a – publicly displayed – distance from far-right extremists. Yet, secretly cooperate with far-right populists and accept their support.

Thirdly, Eliminating violence:

true democrats unreservedly denounce political violence and other anti-democratic behaviours. They do so even when these are political allies or are ideologically close. In times of political polarisation and real or invented threats, fears and crises, the far right finds it all too easy to engineer anti-democratic attitudes among a given population. But even in these cases, true democrats resist the temptation to endorse and justify such attitudes. Instead, real democrats openly confront them.

Fourthly, Isolating the far right:

true democrats also do not shy away from joining forces with the opposite side of the political spectrum to fight, isolate, and defeat anti-democratic far right extremist parties. This is not an easy task but it supports democracy rather than the far right’s Nietzsche-like Will to Power. To establish a political coalition in defence of democracy, true democrats must overcome ideological goals and political principles and work together with politicians from the opposing camp. In other words, progressives need to engage with conservatives to defend democracy. By contrast, pretend-to-be democrats and far right populists refuse to cooperate with ideological “enemies” as they see democratic political parties.

These four rules of true democratic politics are simple and straightforward. Yet, when parts of a conservative party’s base, for example, identifies with anti-democratic extremists, party bosses condemning these far right extremists take a significant political risk. It remains imperative to note that true democrats do it anyway.

By doing that, they preserve democracy. They repel rather than normalise far right extremism. On the surface, pretend-to-be democratic behaviour often appears to be rather harmless. This type of behaviour can even be portrayed by the so-called “respectable” politicians.

However, normalising and mainstreaming the far right can be dangerous. By taking a seemingly “convenient pathway” of tolerating anti-democratic extremists, progressives, democrats and conservatives can strengthen anti-democratic forces. By doing this, they can contribute to the collapse of an – even seemingly rather solid – democracy.

Willingly, they also protect anti-democratic forces. When, for example, violent and even not-so-violent far right extremists have the tacit or open backing of a respected party, they are more likely to be safe from prosecution and dismissal from public office.

Worse, they are more likely to engage in political violence. In addition to enabling anti-democratic forces, pretend-to-be democrats also legitimise their anti-democratic ideologies.

Overall, anti-democratic extremists are treated as outsiders in a healthy democracy. Mainstream media ban them while democratic politicians, businessmen, and other individuals of the democratic community avoid them. In true democracies, those sections of the media that are committed to democracy begin to report on far right populists.

Importantly, media committed to democracy no longer invite them for interviews and discussions as if they are politicians, like democratic politicians.

Primarily, democratically oriented businessmen may decide to put money into the election campaigns of democratic politicians. At the same time, democratically oriented political advisers will avoid far right populists – no longer returning their calls.

Even more important is that when democratic politicians reject anti-democratic behaviours, far right extremists become ever more isolated. They lose momentum and others – like the politically naïve, those easy to manipulate, the inexperienced, and the so-called non-political – are deterred from joining the far right.

This, sadly, also works the other way around. When democratic parties tolerate, approve, and even tacitly support anti-democratic and pretend-to-be democratic parties, democratic parties make it clear that anti-democratic behaviours can be acceptable.

Worse, the deterrent effect fizzles out. It becomes even more problematic when pretend-to-be democrats with their shifting stance only help anti-democratic forces to normality. This encourages them and even radicalises them.

Meanwhile, many of the politicians who can cause the downfall of democracy are simply over-ambitious careerists who want to keep their current office, win higher offices or have a sheer insatiable Will To Power.

And because of some sort of deep-rooted anti-democratic convictions, they aren’t ideologically opposed to democracy – they are simply indifferent to democracy.

Yet, they tolerate and even approve anti-democratic extremism simply because this is the path with least resistance. They – wrongly – often tell themselves that they only do what is necessary to get ahead.

Meanwhile, pragmatism can become a dangerous ideology. Worse, they are indispensable accomplices in ruining democracy.

In other words, even established politicians can contribute to the destruction and hollowing out of democracy by, for example, promoting far right anti-democratic extremism.

But democracy can also be undermined by behaviours that – superficially – adhere to the letter of a democratic constitution. Simultaneously and, worse, deliberately, they assist in the hollowing out of the democratic spirit of a constitution.

This is not an open struggle against the existence of a democratic constitution. Worse, it is a pretend-to-be democratic behaviour that “uses” a democratic constitution as a political weapon. Far right pretend-to-be democrats use democracy against democracy.

Most constitutions – even the most brilliantly formulated – can be (mis)used to destroy a democracy. This is exactly what makes the far right’s claim to be “constitutional” so dangerous.

Yet, this also means that far right populists may not need to openly violate the constitution and no law needs to be broken to end democracy.

The poster boy of the pretend-to-be democratic far right is not Adolf Hitler, Mussolini and Pinochet but Victor Orbán’s Art of Eroding Democracy keeping the façade of democracy intact while destroying it from the inside.

What works for far right populists is that even well-drafted constitutions and democratic laws – almost inevitably – can contain ambiguities and potential loopholes for anti-democratic activities.

Laws and constitutions are, after all, subject to different interpretations and can be enforced in different ways. This drove Donald Trump to get his hands on the US constitution by appointing “his” supreme court judges.

Far right and anti-democratic politicians can – and have – exploited these ambiguities in a way that distorts or even reverses the very raison d’être of a democratic constitution and of democratic laws. Again, there are four techniques that anti-democratic far right populists use to scam democracy:

1) Abusing legal provisions:

Anti-democratic right-wing populists can exploit gaps in legal texts. Ultimately, no legal regulation can cover “all” eventualities. There are always circumstances that are not specifically covered by law. For example, if a political behaviour isn’t expressly prohibited, the anti-democratic far right considers their anti-democratic action as permissible. If democratic rules don’t determine exactly how a democratic process should be carried out, there are opportunities for the anti-democratic far right to take advantage of this to the detriment of democracy.

2) Using legal provisions against democracy:

There is also an excessive or inappropriate use by the anti-democracy right to apply legal provisions against democracy. Some rules require tact and restraint in their use. Presidential clemencies and pardons are a good example. These are not for relatives, friends, donors, political aides, and allies who have committed crimes.

Misusing these rules makes a mockery of the rule of law. This is something right-wing populists claim to uphold but all too often systematically undermine. Others simply destroy it as Nazi judge Roland Freisler had shown. Impeachment procedures can also be misappropriated by the far right.

Many democratic constitutions allow the government to declare a state of emergency and revoke basic rights for its duration. In healthy democracies, this right is protected by the norm of restraint. Democratic politicians share the view that it should be used only in the most extraordinary circumstances. The anti-democratic far right sees this as completely different. To them, emergency powers are simply a tool to cement power.

3) Selective application of laws:

the anti-democratic far right will not shy away from the selective application of democratic laws. Far right governments often pursue, persecute, and even prosecute their political rivals not just by circumventing and violating existing laws, but also by the application of such laws. Meanwhile, the non-application of laws is the rule for the anti-democratic far right. It routinely cheats on tax payments, misappropriates state funds, and routinely violates democratic regulations.

Simultaneously, well-placed pro-far-right officials use their influence to give benefits to relatives, friends, and allies. Far right governments can (and do) apply laws selectively to target their rivals. To the innocent outside, this can be made to look as if right-wing populists are legally compliant. After all, they enforce laws. Yet, the enforcement of the laws is aimed only at democratic opponents. In short, the law is used as a weapon against democracy.

4) Far right lawfare:

In what became known as lawfare, legislation becomes an anti-democratic weapon against democracy. Far right politicians can introduce new laws that – at first glance – seem impartial and objective but are exclusively directed against democratic opponents. This is where ideological warfare meets the law to create: lawfare. It is the misuse of laws and legislative powers as a weapon against democracy.

In the end, there are three identifiers of far right anti-democratic political parties: right-wing populists do not accept the outcome of democratic elections; they are ambivalent about political violence – condemning it publicly but supporting anti-democratic thugs, brutalities and violence; finally, they open or by stealth support the hollowing out of democracy.

More complicated is the separation of real and truly democratic political parties from pretend-to-be democrats who use democracy to get into power.

Once in power, they do not eliminate democracy outright but hollow it out so that democracy becomes a mere shell, a façade, a cover, and a veneer.

This remains highly dangerous as it allows far right populists to present themselves as democrats while deforming, bending, manipulating, twisting, or even eliminating the raison d’être, the essence, and the spirit of democracy.

On the other side of the pretend-to-be democrats are the true democrats that live by four democratic rubrics: they remove anti-democratic elements from their parties; they fight against those displaying anti-democratic behaviours; they reject violence; and, they act in favour of democracy even when this disadvantages them and their democratic political parties.

Finally, anti-democratic (Hitler Mussolini, etc.) and pretend-to-be democrats (Orbán, Trump, etc.) apply four broad strategies while, at the same time, claiming to stand for democracy and law and order: they exploit legal gaps in the constitution and in law to advance their right-wing populist cause and to damage democracy;
they abuse the legal system to favour friends and right-wing stooges;
they refrain from applying the legal system against their friends and far right allies; and finally,
they engage in lawfare – the use of the law in their war against their political opponents who are seen as enemies to be eliminated.

Ultimately, and unlike real neo-fascists and Neo-Nazis, far right populists and pretend-to-be democrats do not openly seek the annihilation of democracy. Rather, they leave an outer shell of democracy in place creating a kind of a façade democracy.

Simultaneously, they hollow out the inside of democracy. Democracy exists in name only. Armed with this, they can claim to be democrats supporting the rule of law while, concurrently, establishing an illiberal crypto-dictatorship.


ZNetwork is funded solely through the generosity of its readers.  Donate



Thomas Klikauer has over 800 publications (including 12 books) and writes regularly for BraveNewEurope (Western Europe), the Barricades (Eastern Europe), Buzzflash (USA), Counterpunch (USA), Countercurrents (India), Tikkun (USA), and ZNet (USA). One of his books is on Managerialism (2013).

Left Voice Magazine: The Struggle to Re-Create Revolutionary Internationalism


The October 2024 issue of Left Voice Magazine collects documents published as contributions to the thirteenth conference of the Trotskyist Fraction – Fourth International that took place in March 2024. The debates and discussions contain valuable analyses of the world situation and proposals for the advance of socialist ideas among working people and all those fighting against capitalist exploitation and oppression.


Left Voice October 27, 2024



The following articles were produced as contributions to the Thirteenth Conference of the Trotskyist Fraction (known as the TF-FI), the international tendency to which Left Voice and 14 other revolutionary socialist organizations around the world adhere, held in March 2024. Among the contributors are leading members of our Argentinian, Spanish, and French sections; the Partido de los Trabajadores Socialistas (PTS), Corriente Revolucionaria de los Trabajadores y Trabajadoras (CRT), and Révolution Permanente (RP), respectively.

Delegates to the Conference debated a wide range of strategic questions around the construction of a revolutionary party, the promotion of organs for the self-organization of the working class, and the role of ideology. These were contextualized within the historical conjuncture that includes Israel’s genocide against the people of Gaza; a major war in Ukraine and the re-armament of Europe; the rise of a new Far Right around the world; growing austerity, especially in the world’s peripheral countries, encouraged by the institutions of international finance capital like the IMF; a climate emergency; and other devastating ecological consequences of capitalism.

We are publishing them in English in order to further these debates in the United States and the rest of the English-speaking world. Since the Conference, a number of events have taken place that socialists and the Left — especially in the United States — cannot ignore, including the construction of student encampments to protest the genocide in Gaza proliferating across the United States and internationally, reinvigorating a student movement, despite violent repression; Joe Biden’s withdrawal from the 2024 elections in the United States and his replacement by Kamala Harris; the attempted assassination of Donald Trump and his nomination of the far-right populist J.D. Vance as his vice presidential candidate; and the Republican National Convention, addressed by the president of the Teamsters Union for the first time in history. We encourage readers to refer to the numerous articles published by Left Voice on these topics over the past several months. With these developments, we believe the following articles to contain valuable analyses of the world situation and proposals for the advance of socialist ideas among working people. We hope to receive reflections and criticisms from socialists and socialist organizations, especially those committed to the construction of an international and revolutionary party of the working class.

***
Overview of the Thirteenth Conference of the TF-FI: The Struggle to Re-create Revolutionary Internationalism

In March 2024, delegations from the groups that form the Trotskyist Fraction – Fourth International met to discuss and debate the challenges facing revolutionaries today. The discussions centered on the convulsive world scenario — with tendencies toward polarization and increasing militarism — and the vanguard sectors mobilizing across the world, from the movement for Palestine to the movement against the Far Right and austerity in Argentina.
Three Axes of Socialist Internationalism Today: Against Genocide, Militarism, and Imperialist Plunder

From the Trotskyist Fraction — Fourth International, we are undertaking three political campaigns that we consider central to internationalist and anti-imperialist struggle today.
The Convulsive Interregnum of the International Situation

The capitalist world is in a “permacrisis” — a prolonged period of instability which may lead to catastrophic events. The ongoing struggles for hegemony could lead to open military conflicts.

By Claudia Cinatti
The Struggle of Ideologies and the Battle for a Socialist Imaginary

The capitalist consensus is starting to break apart. A key task for socialists today, in conjunction with debates over strategy, is to fight to reconstruct a socialist horizon — that starts with council democracy and socialist planning.

By Matías Maiello
Growing Chaos in the World Situation

The world is racked by war and increasing militarism against the backdrop of U.S. imperialist fatigue. The ruling class inches it ever closer to more destructive conflicts. This forms the basis for a new internationalism.

By Juan Chingo
Reclaiming the Theory of Permanent Revolution Today

Beyond various theories now in vogue — like postcolonialism — we must reclaim the validity of Trotsky’s theory of permanent revolution.

By Josefina L. Martínez
The Figure in the Mirror: The Ideology of “Common Sense” and the Fight for Socialism

Notes on the recomposition of Marxism and the possible futures of socialism

By Juan Dal Maso
The Struggle Has Just Begun: The Argentinian Crisis and the Tasks of Revolutionaries

The first year of far-right “anarcho-capitalist” Javier Milei’s presidency has exacerbated a severe crisis that touches nearly every sector of Argentinian society. The working class, students, and retirees are rising up to fight these attacks.

By Emilio Albamonte

Reclaiming the Theory of Permanent Revolution Today

Beyond various theories now in vogue — like postcolonialism — we must reclaim the validity of Trotsky’s theory of permanent revolution.

Josefina L. Martínez 

October 27, 2024

The following is a contribution to the debates for the recent conference of the Trotskyist Fraction — Fourth International, which publishes the International Network of La Izquierda Diario. It was published on March 24, 2024.

***

Several authors have pointed out that many of the “critical theories” that gained weight during the neoliberal boom were based on the naturalization of defeat. In Left Hemisphere (2013), Keucheyan includes in this group theories ranging from the elaborations of Judith Butler to Alain Badiou, Fredric Jameson, the postcolonialists of India, and the “open Marxism” of John Holloway or Slavoj Žižek. For his part, Maurizio Lazzarato affirms in Do you remember the revolution? (2022) that the critical theories post-1968 are the product of a long absence of acute class struggle, including poststructuralism, postcolonial theories, or works such as Negri-Hardt’s Empire.

Matías Maiello and Emilio Albamonte pointed out in Estrategia Socialista y Arte Militar (2017) the negation of strategic thinking in theories such as those of Foucault and other authors. In the midst of an extreme crisis of Marxism during the neoliberal boom, all kinds of textualist theories — those of micro-powers and capillary resistances, identitarian and idealist theories — took precedence. However, as Juan Dal Maso points out in this article, this began to change after the 2008 crisis and continues to change with the emergence of new political phenomena and class struggle. This change has led to the reappearance of debates on Marxism, socialism, the working class, and imperialism.

We can say that we are in a transitional moment, characterized by both the eroding hegemony of neoliberalism and the lack of open revolutions; a period marked by abrupt changes, where crises accelerate and multiply. As Claudia Cinatti writes, this is a convulsive interregnum, in which the conditions for an era of crises, wars, and revolutions begin to be actualized. This transitional moment is expressed in the ideological field with the emergence of all kinds of critical ideologies which we can call intermediate; that is to say, they are turning to the left, and in many cases even claim aspects of Marxism, but retain part of the colors and foundations of the previous anti-strategic moment. In this group, we find left reformist currents, left populisms, neo-Utopianisms, post-capitalisms, “socialist” autonomisms, etc. From our position of revolutionary Marxism, we have proposed openly clashing with these ideologies, so as to dialogue with the most progressive aspects that are expressed in the vanguard, while seeking clarification theoretically and strategically.

In this article, I would like to add some elements to the debate around the ideological struggle, linked to the struggle for the reconstruction of revolutionary Marxism. I take into consideration this contribution by Matías Maiello and the contribution of Juan Dal Maso in the aforementioned article, as part of the debates ahead of the conference of the Trotskyist Fraction — Fourth International.
Is Marxism a thing of the past?

In a 1903 article on the crisis of Marxism, Rosa Luxemburg polemicized with the revisionist currents that maintained that Marxism had become “out of date.” Luxemburg argued:


If, then, today we detect a stagnation in our movement as far as these theoretical matters are concerned, this is not because the Marxist theory upon which we are nourished is incapable of development or has become out-of-date […] It is not true that Marx no longer suffices for our needs. On the contrary, our needs are not yet adequate for the utilization of Marx’s ideas.

Luxemburg was writing this at a time when there were still no major crises on the world scene. Thirty-two years had passed since the defeat of the Paris Commune, practically without major processes of class struggle, or, at least, without revolution. The evolutionary growth of German social democracy was key, and Marxism was “stagnant.” According to Luxemburg, nothing very original had been produced since some of Engels’ writings after Marx’s death. However, this would soon change, or was already changing. Lenin’s What Is To Be Done is from 1902, and Luxemburg’s polemical works with Bernstein on reform or revolution are from those same years. Especially from 1905 onwards, Marxism recovered an enormous creativity and vitality to provide answers to the new challenges of the imperialist epoch — an epoch of crises, wars, and revolutions.

In particular, we wish to highlight here the elaboration and subsequent generalization of the theory of the Permanent Revolution by Leon Trotsky, which represents one of the greatest achievements of this strategic Marxism.1 Trotsky formulated this theory on the basis of the lessons of great revolutions, such as those of 1905 and 1917 in Russia, the German Revolution of 1918-19 and 1923, the Chinese Revolution of 1925-27, and complemented with the lessons of the rise of fascism in the 1930s, the Spanish Revolution, and the role of the Popular Front.

Revisiting Luxemburg’s reflection on Marx, beyond the obvious historical differences, we could think that at the present moment our needs are just beginning to adapt much more to the use of the ideas of revolutionary Marxism than in past decades, where defeat and the neoliberal offensive prevailed. That is to say, at the same time that the tendencies of the epoch of crisis, wars, and revolutions is becoming an actuality, Permanent Revolution as a theory-program of world revolution is becoming more relevant.
The three aspects of the theory of Permanent Revolution

Trotsky pointed out that the theory of Permanent Revolution combined three series of ideas. First, the transition from the bourgeois democratic revolutions to the socialist revolution. Second, everything that makes the revolution — that is, the period of transition between capitalism and socialism, where the “revolutions of the economy, of technology, of science, of the family, of customs, unfold in a complex reciprocal action that does not allow society to reach equilibrium.” Third, the international character of the socialist revolution. It is precisely in the interaction of these three dimensions that this theory acquires enormous relevance today.

In this sense, the Permanent Revolution becomes a fundamental tool in the face of different “intermediate” or confused ideological tendencies, left reformist or centrist, which influence the vanguard. Obviously, understanding the relevance of the Permanent Revolution is not a question of repeating the theses written by Trotsky almost 100 years ago, but rather, to start from his foundations for a “grand strategy” of world revolution.[See: Albamonte and Maiello, Estrategia Socialista y arte militar.]

In the following, I will dwell on these three dimensions of the theory of Permanent

Revolution to show how it can be a starting point to enrich Marxist theory in the 21st century. Although I will approach it here in a somewhat schematic way, these notes can serve as a map of some of the debates being raised.

First, considering the question of the growth of bourgeois-democratic revolution into socialist revolution allows us to intervene in many current debates on the relationship between the working class and social movements. This allows us to polemicize with the mechanical separation between “social demands” and “democratic demands,” (i.e. gender equality, anti-racism, etc.). It allows us to debate with sectors that separate gender struggles from class struggles and with the identitarian theories of social movements which separate these issues from the struggle against capitalism and for a socialist perspective. In this sense, we defend a strategy of “workers’ hegemony,” which is opposed to workerist corporatism and poses the necessity of linking the struggles of the working class to those of the struggles of all oppressed people. These are themes that Juan Dal Maso deals with extensively in his books, from the Gramsci-Trotsky counterpoint, and are developed in the latest book by Matías Maiello. We have also been addressing these themes with Andrea D`Atri and several other comrades in polemic with different feminist currents.

This first aspect of the theory of Permanent Revolution also acquires enormous pertinence as it regards the relation between democratic demands and class struggle. This is of great importance in the face of the increasing Bonapartist direction of political regimes. This is also important in the face of the increase of imperialist plunder, which puts in the foreground the relation between anti-imperialism, political independence with respect to the national bourgeoisies, and self-organization.2

Secondly, let us consider the aspect of revolution itself. This dimension includes debates on the transition to socialism and, in particular, on Soviet democracy and the balance sheet of the experiences of revolutions and Stalinism in the 20th century. It also makes it possible to address discussions that are very present today — for example, in the feminist and LGBTQ+ movements, on what material conditions are necessary to advance transformations in areas such as the family, customs, education, etc. In this field of debate, tendencies we can call “neo-utopian” have reappeared. The aforementioned article by Matías Maiello, which takes up again the questions of council democracy and planning, in counterpoint with some authors of cybercommunism, contributes many elements and enriches these debates.

Another important issue is the ecological crisis. The debates on degrowth and the use of technologies to reduce climate change are related to the need for democratic planning in the face of capitalist irrationality. This is something that several comrades have been working on in various articles and publications and has become a strategic issue of great importance for the renewal of the socialist project today.
The postcolonial critique of Marxism and the validity of the theory of Permanent Revolution

The third aspect of the theory of Permanent Revolution involves the relation between “weak links” and international revolution, between center and periphery, or anti-imperialist struggles and socialist revolution. This aspect is totally denied or broken in the “critical theories” of the last decades, especially in postcolonial theories. These theories are positioned from the point of view of an “episteme of the Global South,” questioning Marxism as if it were a Eurocentric theory or an accomplice of colonialism. Given the influence that this type of position has in vanguard sectors at present, I will expand a little here on this subject, which we have also dealt with in other articles.

The origins of postcoloniality can be found in different geographical spaces. In the 1980s, the Indian Subaltern Studies group combined culturalist readings of Gramsci with notions of Foucault and Derrida to intervene in the field of historiography. In those same years, intellectuals from the Asian, African, and Caribbean migrant diaspora in Europe addressed issues linked to the “postcolonial”, especially from literature and cultural studies. The core of what is known as “decoloniality” emerged in the 1990s with the formation of the Modernity/Coloniality group, made up of Latin American intellectuals. Aníbal Quijano’s concept of coloniality of power is characteristic of this trend. For its part, postcolonial feminism developed its own concepts with Chicana, Latin American, Native, Asian, and African women authors, who pushed against what they defined as a white and Eurocentric feminism. Some of their referents are María Lugones, Chandra Talpade Mohanty, and Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak.

Postcolonial theories, as their prefix indicates, appeared as a specific variant of the rise of the post in the academic world. Beginning in the 1980s and 1990s, they took up the elaborations of poststructuralist authors to think about the relationship between center and peripheries, between capitalism and racism/colonialism. With poststructuralists, they shared a common sense of the neoliberal era. Pointing to this origin, Terry Eagleton argued that postcoloniality had produced a number of works of uncommon insight and originality, but which represented little more than the Foreign Office of postmodernism.

Postcolonial theories targeted not only the theories of enlightened liberalism, but also Marxism, which they presented as a Eurocentric, historicist, economist, and workerist theory, from Marx onwards (without differentiating between revolutionary wings, chauvinist social democracy, and later Stalinism, and in general ignoring or avoiding mentioning Trotskyism).

One of the main arguments of postcolonialists is that Marxism is based on abstract and totalizing categories, which cannot account for particular and historical contingencies, especially in regards to the capitalist periphery, non-Western societies, or, more recently, the “Global South.” Marxism could not comprehend the “incommensurability” of the colonial world, nor those issues related to raciality and national oppressions. Moreover, most postcolonial authors situate Marxism as a variant of the ideas of “Western reason” and capitalist modernity, which, from their point of view, would be a combination of secularism, abstract ideas of freedom, progress, and colonialism.

Beyond nuances or specific issues, most postcolonial authors share a series of theoretical shifts as part of a “cultural turn.” The focus is on cultural and ideological phenomena, detached from a reflection on capitalist social relations. They oppose the idea of working class hegemony, citing the heterogeneity of the “subalterns” or new social movements that, in their view, would be “restricted” by class politics. More generally, they replace the strategic reflection on the conditions of struggle of the oppressed peoples against imperialism with a limited cultural practice to deconstruct or destabilize the “Western and Eurocentric episteme.” In turn, postcolonialists oppose the modernity/coloniality duo with the vindication of “other ways of being in the world,” such as those of millenarian peasant communities. The block rejection of modernity opens the door to the idealization of pre-capitalist ways of life and religious or supernatural ways of thinking. Not only do they allow themselves to be fascinated by religious forms, but they omit the fact that, in many of these pre-capitalist societies, there were also brutal forms of social subjugation, such as the oppression of women, caste hierarchies, interethnic violence, slavery, and more. Several authors have pointed out that postcolonialism ended up being an “essentialism in reverse” — a geographic/ethnicist determinism on which the false idea of a unique “Western episteme” is built, denying the complex and multiple theoretical, cultural, and social disputes that have taken place. That is to say, an abstract definition of “Western reason,” outside of any historical determination.

When postcolonialists aim their darts against Marxism, they overlook central issues. They overlook the debates of Marx and Engels against syndicalist corporatism in the IWA, their vindication of the struggle for the self-determination of Poland, their writings on the Irish question (questioning the racism of the English workers promoted by the bourgeoisie), writings on the American civil war, the debates on the Russian rural commune with Vera Zazulich, and others. Moreover, when they point against the “Europeanness” of Marxism, they omit that, while Europe is the history of the bloody colonization of Asia, Africa, and America, there is also the Europe of the Paris Communards, of the Russian Revolution, the German Revolution, the revolutionary uprising of the Spanish peasants and workers in 1936, of May 1968, of the Prague Spring uprising against Stalinism, and the Carnation Revolution in Portugal, to name but a few.

However, what most misses the mark of the postcolonial critique of Marxism is nothing less than the fact that the first triumphant socialist revolution of the twentieth century took place in Russia, the “easternmost state of the West.” In fact, Trotsky argued that, contrary to what the vulgar materialists thought (that the history of the backward countries was to follow that of the advanced countries), the revolution had begun in the East and headed westward from there. In this sense, the whole legacy of the debates of the Permanent Revolution, before and after the Russian revolution, as well as of the first four congresses of the Communist International (which include the theses on the Black question, on the national question, on the struggle against imperialism, on the organization of women, etc.), disprove the post-colonial theses and their caricature of Marxism. Or, in any case, they make it necessary to reestablish the theoretical and political struggles of revolutionary Marxism, distinct from chauvinist social democracy and later from nationalist Stalinism.

Now, from reformist positions that claim to be Marxist, criticisms have been made of postcolonial theories, from two opposite angles. On one hand, these criticisms come from a Third World Marxism, in the style of Vijay Prashad, Nestor Kohan, and Alfredo García Linera (Castroist-bourgeois nationalist, etc.). This sector responds to the charge of “Eurocentrism” against Marxism with the vindication of the “peasant revolutions”, embellishing all the Stalinist-guerrilla bureaucracies of the 20th century. At present, they do so by vindicating bourgeois nationalisms such as Chavismo as “socialisms of the 21st century.” We have polemicized extensively with these types of positions: through the recovery of the Latin American Writings of Leon Trotsky; in regards to indigenism, for example, in this book by Javo Ferreira; in the reflections of Juan Dal Maso on Mariátegui; in the works of Pablo Oprinari on the Mexican Revolution and the permanent revolution; in the book by Eduardo Molina on the Bolivian revolution of ’52; in the chapters dedicated to the subject in Estrategia socialista y arte militar by Maiello and Albamonte; and many other elaborations.

There are tendencies that mix the ideas of post-colonialism with more radical discourses of “struggle,” linked more to anti-racist social movements, undocumented migrants, “women of the Global South,” etc. In these cases, from rather radical populist positions, they share the vision of considering the white and Native working class of the central countries as a “privileged” sector that could never be considered an ally in the struggle against imperialism, almost as another agent of colonial domination. In this field, many are recovering figures of radical anti-colonialism: Fanonism, Pan-Africanism, etc. In general, the foundation of these types of populist positions is the idea that the processes of accumulation by dispossession (extractivism, informal labor, or indebtedness) have replaced accumulation by exploitation as the engines of capitalist accumulation. Those who defend this hypothesis conclude that the struggles against dispossession carried out by Indigenous communities, the urban poor, peasants, and especially women in the “Global South,” are the new strategic nodes for resistance to capitalism, and no longer the “old and traditional working class.” We have debated with this type of populist autonomous feminism, for example here. On the issues of labor and its configuration, there are very interesting elaborations by Paula Varela and Gastón Gutiérrez and numerous articles by Paula Bach on labor and technology, which are significant contributions in the field of Marxist economics.

Another pole of the critique of postcolonial thought appeared more recently from positions of an “economistic” Marxism, which omits nothing less than the question of imperialism. This critique holds that capital completely “universalizes” capitalist relations to the whole planet, as if there were no such thing as uneven and combined development. Vivek Chibber of Jacobin is an expression of this type of position, with which we polemicize here.

In order not to extend this article any further, what I am interested in emphasizing is that the theory of the Permanent Revolution, as a program-theory of the world revolution, has today an enormous relevance. In counterpoint with different contemporary critical theories, it constitutes the best tool for the ideological and strategic struggle. Of course, the updating and enrichment of Marxist theory for the 21st century implies incorporating new analyses on the world economy and imperialism, or on the relationship between the working class and other oppressed sectors. And to creatively recover, before the challenges of the present, questions that make the relationship between councilist democracy and party, between center and periphery, different dimensions of the struggle for socialist revolution.

Translation by Charlotte White.


Notes

Notes↑1 In this brief period of time, Trotsky first elaborated the Theory of the Permanent Revolution, Lenin put forward his theories around party organization, and major debates around the question of imperialism raged within the Second International. Added to these are the strategic contributions of Lenin and Trotsky in the lead up to the 1917 revolution, the development of a Marxist theory of the State, and elaborations on uneven and combined development. In the following years, revolutionary Marxist theory focused on new problems arising in the transition to socialism. The first four congresses of the Third International in this sense are a school of revolutionary strategy. Later on, to mention only a few of the most notable debates, the elaborations on bureaucracy, the generalization of the theory of Permanent Revolution to the semicolonial countries, and, in the 1930s, questions on the Popular Front, Bonapartism and fascism, etc., along with the elaborations of Antonio Gramsci, emerged as major contributions.
↑2 In this sense, the elaborations of Esteban Mercatante on imperialism today, in polemic with authors such as David Harvey, John Smith, and others, are also great contributions. In France, various comrades of Révolution Permanente have been reflecting on the decline of French imperialism and the crises in various African countries.

Josefina L. Martínez
Josefina is a historian from Madrid and an editor of our sister site in the Spanish State, IzquierdaDiario.es.

The Struggle of Ideologies and the Battle for a Socialist Imaginary



The capitalist consensus is starting to break apart. A key task for socialists today, in conjunction with debates over strategy, is to fight to reconstruct a socialist horizon — that starts with council democracy and socialist planning.

Matías Maiello October 27, 2024

The following is a contribution to the debates for the recent conference of the Trotskyist Fraction — Fourth International, which publishes the International Network of La Izquierda Diario. It was published on January 14, 2024.

After the fall of the Berlin Wall, many pundits and analysts concluded that the “era of extremes,” of intense political confrontations, had been definitively overcome. Thereafter, neoliberal democracies came to be governed by the “extreme center,” as Tariq Ali calls it. Neoliberalism, with all of its particularities, had emerged amid a patchwork of political parties reduced to the status of “living dead,” among them many social reformist or bourgeois nationalist parties in the peripheral countries. At the time, Chantal Mouffe, inspired by Carl Schmitt, called for reclaiming the idea of “antagonism” to revitalize these ailing democracies. She argued that with the disappearance of the oppositional dynamic between totalitarianism and democracy, Western societies could become deeply destabilized. But this was a limited understanding of political antagonism in bourgeois democracy. Political enemies became adversaries who shared a common framework.

A critical overview of the previous period resists this domestication of the political. On the one hand, we have the global emergence of a so-called new Right. In response, the term fascism has been used and abused in political discourse. Authors such as Enzo Traverso refer to the new Right as “post-fascism”; others, such as Maurizio Lazzarato, have characterized it as a “new fascism.” On the other hand, since the Arab Spring of 2011, we have seen a proliferation of broad processes of mobilization, with varying degrees of violence in a diverse set of countries. These revolts have become an undeniable part of the global situation. At the same time, with the onset of the war in Ukraine, the role that war plays in the global scenario has changed from that of previous decades, giving way to a new level of confrontation between world powers. The open genocide perpetuated by the state of Israel against Gaza is the most recent expression of this, and it could destabilize the Middle East. In turn, a broad movement of solidarity with the Palestinian people has emerged internationally. Intense political confrontation seems to have returned to the world stage without asking permission.

In reality, the profound tendencies of the imperialist epoch of “wars, crisis, and revolutions,” as Lenin called it, have come to the fore. At the same time, as Fredric Jameson once remarked, it seems that “it is easier to imagine the end of the world than the end of capitalism.” This is largely because the revolutionary socialist project is in crisis. We can identify three main causes for this crisis. First, revolutionary socialism was discredited by Stalinism, or the emergence of parasitic bureaucratic dictatorships in the former workers states, which ultimately passed over to capitalist restoration. Second, social democracy and various bourgeois nationalist movements used the name of socialism to advance neoliberal policies. Added to this are phenomena like Chavismo in Venezuela, which defined itself as “socialism for the 21st century,” but in reality amounted to a bourgeois statist current that, in certain moments, clashed with imperialist powers while advancing aggressive neoliberal policies. Third, four decades of neoliberal domination have had a profound impact on the consciousness of most people.

The recomposition of the socialist project in the 21st century has many different aspects. There is a tactical dimension (regarding the course of individual instances of class struggle) and a strategic one (drawing conclusions from those battles — whether they are victories or defeats — for socialist ends and objectives). Socialist goals are condensed in a revolutionary socialist program, but not necessarily all of them. For example, The Transitional Program, written by Leon Trotsky and adopted by the Fourth International, covers only the period just until the start of the socialist revolution.1

There is also an ideological dimension, which involves re-creating a socialist imaginary, one of a society that can overcome the horizon of barbarism that capitalism promises. This requires a review of the past, an understanding of the present, and a projection into the future. In what follows, we attempt to develop some aspects of the ideological dimension, centering on two themes that we consider fundamental: council democracy and socialist planning. Before we develop these elements, however, we will describe how we got to where we are today and the conditions — which differ from those of the 20th century — in which the struggle to re-create the socialist project takes place today.
Clashing Hegemonies and Clashing Ideologies

In his interpretation of the Prison Notebooks by Antonio Gramsci, Nicola Badaloni discusses the “clash of hegemonies,” which takes place when social relations collide with new ones that have emerged and become historically visible. With this idea, Badaloni covers the specific clash of hegemonies that arose in the 20th century after the triumph of the Russian Revolution.

This revolution refuted the universalist pretensions of the bourgeoisie, which posed its particular interests as the interests of “all of humanity.” It exposed in reality Marx’s observation that, under capitalism, “the practical application of man’s right to liberty is man’s right to private property.” This universalism was fueled by the exploitation and oppression of the rest of the world’s peoples; under the banner of “civilization,” it led to World War I. Bourgeois individualism, which for Marx was the ideological expression of an unconscious collective base (capital), would come to be measured against the regulatory capacity of a collectivism consciously assumed and therefore capable of becoming institutionalized.2

The interwar period was marked by revolutions whose defeats confirmed the isolation of the Russian Revolution. The Stalinist bureaucratization of the USSR, and with it the Third Communist International, fed back into this cycle of isolation and defeats. But capitalism was far from being stabilized, and bourgeois individualism continued to be challenged far and wide. Gramsci and Trotsky analyzed capital’s need for a large-scale reconfiguration to counter its crisis. They saw in the emergence of fascism and “Americanism” two different answers to this problem; ultimately, the alternative was resolved in favor of the latter. This was only possible, as Trotsky foresaw, through a new world war. Gramsci observed that it was relatively easier for the United States to rationalize production and labor as a result of the particularities of its historical development. This gave rise to a particular combination of force and persuasion in which high wages based on a large increase in productivity and mass consumption were key. In this process of Americanism, “hegemony is born in the factory,” with less need for professional political and ideological intermediaries to impose it.

In a near mirror image of Gramsci’s theory, Trotsky pointed out, in reference to proletarian hegemony in the USSR, that ultimately, “the working class can retain and strengthen its role as leader, not through the State apparatus or the army, but by means of the industry which gives rise to the proletariat.” But the Stalinist leadership adopted the opposite course of action. As Trotsky notes in The Revolution Betrayed, the liquidation of the soviets and the entrenchment of a new bureaucratic caste marked the emergence of a dictatorship imposed on the proletariat. The question of hegemony over the peasantry was “solved,” at the end of the 1920s, through the coercive power of the state. In one fell swoop, the bureaucracy undermined both economic planning and the consciousness of the collective; with this, it also undermined the necessary development of a new individualism in the framework of collective action and the revitalization of civil society in the workers state. Trotsky closely links this revitalization with the revival of the soviets as organizations of self-determination of the masses.

After World War II, the contrasts between Western capitalism and bureaucratic workers states became deeper. In Europe important revolutionary processes were diverted or defeated, such as those in France, Italy, and Greece; the new successful revolutions — in China and Indochina — occurred in developing peripheral countries, where new bureaucracies controlled the state from the start. Having configured themselves in the image and likeness of the Stalinist USSR, they imposed new social relations within their borders, but they did not try to extend the international revolution. All this contributed to a gradual process of identifying collectivism with bureaucratic totalitarianism. The clash of hegemonies continued, but each time in a more degraded form. The capitalist world — in the wake of a global massacre crowned by the dropping of the atomic bomb on Hiroshima and Nagasaki — responded to the challenges posed by these revolutions by developing the “welfare state.” On the basis of the war’s destruction, it experienced a three-decade economic boom; states adopted elements of state planning in the capitalist economy and introduced a series of labor and social rights in a context of full employment. In the peripheral countries, as part of so-called decolonization, imperialist states agreed to formal independence for several countries to quell the rebellions against their domination.

By the end of the 1960s, the experiment of a capitalism “regulated” by the state had failed. The economic crisis exacerbated the fiscal crisis and redoubled the pressure on the rate of profit. The combination of global crisis and class struggle broke the relative equilibrium that had characterized the previous stage of the Cold War. Class struggle extended across both the capitalist centers and periphery as well as to the other side of the Iron Curtain. The defeat of this cycle was followed by the definitive crisis of the USSR and the rise of neoliberalism, embodied by Ronald Reagan in the United States and Margaret Thatcher in the United Kingdom. The restoration of capitalism by the bureaucracy in the USSR, China, and the states where the bourgeoisie had been expropriated would give rise to a global stage of bourgeois restoration. Capitalism emerged triumphant from the clash of hegemonies that marked the 20th century. In this new context, faced with the terminal crisis of the previous scheme of capitalist accumulation and the fall of the rate of profit, the retaining walls of the old welfare state would be dismantled and the chains of the peripheral countries would be readjusted to comply with the so-called Washington consensus.

The end of that clash of hegemonies did not mean — nor could it — a return to the moment before the Russian Revolution. Rather, what emerged was a new “consensus”: “there is no alternative” to capitalism.3 As Perry Anderson pointed out in his classic essay “Renewals,” what resulted was the consolidation — together with the universal diffusion — of neoliberalism as a political current, which had been developing behind the scenes since the 1930s. Beyond the limitations that prevented — and still prevent — its full realization as a complete system, neoliberalism as a set of principles managed to impose itself globally. In Anderson’s words, it was the “most successful ideology in world history.” Bourgeois individualism found a clear terrain to advance to unprecedented levels.

Neoliberalism became associated with a notion of democracy defined by its mere opposition to totalitarianism. It identified the idea of freedom with the free-market model, and counterposed it to any kind of collectivism conceived of as “statism.” The idea of globalization functionally became the unchallenged dominance of U.S. imperialism.

Today, these three pillars are in crisis. First, neoliberal democracies are becoming increasingly authoritarian and seem to have no answers to the contradictions that contemporary societies experience. These regimes are being questioned mostly from the right — the storming of the U.S. Capitol on January 6 was a particularly significant symptom of this — but they are also challenged by revolts in various countries in the last decade. Second, “harmonious” globalization has come to an end. There is a clash between the crisis-stricken global integration established under U.S. hegemony, on one side, and the redoubled challenge to this world order by “revisionist” powers, such as Russia and China, on the other. The war in Ukraine indicates the return of interstate warfare with the involvement of world powers on both sides (although the United States and NATO act by proxy). The trade war and growing military tensions with China are another expression of this trend, as is the genocide being committed by the state of Israel in Gaza. Third, market freedom suffered a severe blow as a result of the 2008 crisis and the subsequent massive bailout of banks and corporations, along with an exponential increase in global inequality — this amounted to a kind of “fall” of the Wall Street “wall.”

It is important not to confuse these elements of crisis with an outright retreat of neoliberalism. Of course, its viability is directly linked to U.S. hegemony, which is in decline. Today, capitalism lacks an alternative hegemonic project, like fascism or Americanism, which played this role in their time, but neoliberalism is not facing a clash of hegemonies such as the one that marked the 20th century. Consequently, neoliberalism stumbles along in its decline. The so-called new Right is advancing its authoritarian measures and wielding nationalist discourses; in peripheral countries, its program is a radical form of neoliberalism. The rhetoric against “socialism” and “communism,” identifying these systems with authoritarian capitalist regimes such as those of China or Venezuela, attempts to revitalize enthusiasm for neoliberalism by reviving a caricature of the Cold War, mimicking the clash of hegemonies. This rhetoric does have a certain ideological influence, but it is based on the lack of alternatives to neoliberalism — above all the prolonged crisis of the revolutionary socialist project.

Today, there is no clash of hegemonies as there was in the 20th century. The most salient characteristic of the current age is the absence of hegemonies; this applies to socialism as much as to capitalism itself. But the terrain for a struggle of ideologies has been reopened, and with it, the possibility of transforming the socialist project into a material force. This does not mean rehashing the struggle of ideologies that took place before the Russian Revolution, as sectors of the U.S. Left attempt to do, advocating a kind of “return” to old-school social democracy.4 We have to start from an appraisal of the 20th century and take up the most advanced aspects of those experiences. Reconstructing the perspective of a socialism from below for the 21st century — as opposed to the Stalinist experience — implies starting from the current realities of capitalism, of the working class and the oppressed, so that socialism can be seen as a real alternative to the crisis of civilization imposed on us by the capitalist system.

In what follows we attempt to elucidate the elements that we consider foundational to this perspective, articulated through the themes of council democracy and socialist planning. Both have been struck from the record of the 20th century and obscured by a common sense that creates an unbridgeable antagonism between political democracy and socioeconomic emancipation. We argue, however, that these remain fundamental questions for re-creating the project of socialism from below.
Council Democracy and Constituent Power in Our Time

Though traditionally at odds with each other, liberalism and democracy began a rapprochement in the last decades of the 19th century. At the time, Alexis de Tocqueville expressed the mutual distrust between them: democracy could lead either to the independence and freedom of citizens or to their servitude. Democracy was the specter of the masses and the full imposition of their will. Thus, he ended Democracy in America, the second part of which was originally published in 1840, by pointing out that “the nations of our time cannot prevent the conditions of men from becoming equal; but it depends upon themselves whether the principle of equality is to lead them to servitude or freedom, to knowledge or barbarism.” After the cycle of revolutions of 1848, it was the Paris Commune of 1871 that forced liberal parliamentarism to definitively widen its electoral base, which was previously limited by different requirements of property, education, etc. These requirements guaranteed that parliament would represent only a certain homogeneous set of interests. At the time, rational discussion legitimized the law as expressing a “general interest,” one that was in actuality limited to the interests of the bourgeoisie. With the arrival of mass politics, however, that legitimacy would be thrown into crisis.

The idea of popular sovereignty became entrenched as a means of legitimizing democracy, bringing with it a contradiction that the ruling classes have been unable to resolve to this day. An unmitigated popular sovereignty was always potentially dangerous for bourgeois society, since in theory it could call into question capitalism’s fundamental pillar: the private ownership of the means of production. The emergence of mass politics, with the widespread development of workers’ parties and trade unions, raised the problem of how to deal with the working masses. As Gramsci pointed out, the social sectors that previously had no dog in this race changed the political structure of society by the mere act of coming together.5 The bourgeoisie responded by occupying the space in civil society that had been left unguarded by classical liberalism, giving rise to an “integral state” (dictatorship plus hegemony).6 It was no longer a matter of waiting for consensus but of organizing that consensus through the “statization” of the organizations of the working class and mass movements, developing bureaucracies within them and ensuring that their leaders collaborated in maintaining order (either by conviction or corruption). Gramsci called this trasformismo.

The eruption of the Russian Revolution and its influence on western Europe brought the orchestration of mass politics to new heights. Carl Schmitt was one of the bourgeois ideologists who most vividly articulated this problem. Using the concept of “sovereign dictatorship,” he described the passage from popular sovereignty to the dictatorship of the proletariat. The soviets or councils emerged as the political form of a new constituent power. They expressed a popular sovereignty that broke the bourgeois structure of “the People,” instead placing the working class at the center. Organisms of this type developed not only in Russia but also in Germany with the development of the räte (workers’ councils) during the 1918 revolution. In Italy, a similar phenomenon emerged in the form of the factory councils during the Red Biennium. In the United Kingdom, the working class organized itself in similar structures with the development of stewards’ committees. Bodies of self-organization, with the working class at the center, would continue to develop in the main processes of class struggle that took place in the 20th century.

Two divergent tendencies emerge from these developments. The first is working-class autonomy, while the second is the statization of workers’ organizations. A true “war of positions” develops between the two, including actions typical of a “war of maneuver.” This precedes decisive clashes between the classes, in which the bourgeoisie seeks to integrate the mass movement into the bounds of the state and co-opt its leaders; meanwhile, the working class constantly struggles to develop independently of the capitalist state and to fight the process of trasformismo. In this framework, the struggle to develop councils as independent organizations becomes more complex — in other words, to keep them from being controlled by the bureaucracies of the established organizations, and to maintain their capacity to represent different sectors of the working class and its allies, and to link social and political demands. This struggle must be undertaken to prevent the movement from being diverted into partial struggles and electoralism. For this, it is indispensable to develop currents within mass organizations that have the perspective of building a revolutionary party.

Councils are not a mysterious entity; they are mass united-front organizations. In other words, they are the product of the unity of the working class and its allies in the struggle against capital. They are institutions that can harmonize the struggle’s various demands and forms. They bring together representatives of all the groups active in the fight without being bound to any program a priori. They open their doors to all the exploited and oppressed, and their organization is constantly renewed as the movement develops. All the political tendencies of the working class have the right to dispute the leadership of these councils on the basis of the broadest democracy. During a good part of the 20th century, the councils were opposed by the main organizations of the workers movement; they were suppressed by the forces of social democracy in all countries, beginning with Germany. The Stalinist bureaucracy crushed them in the USSR; outside the USSR, it suppressed this self-organization by enforcing an alternative strategy, first with the ultra-left policy of “class against class” — which denied any form of unity with social-democratic workers’ organizations — and then later with the policy of the Popular Front, which subordinated workers’ organizations to the bourgeoisie. During the second half of the 20th century, the militarist strategies of Maoism and guerrilla warfare replaced self-organization with parties organized in the form of “people’s” armies.

Even in this scenario, however, councils far from disappeared. For example, during the Spanish Revolution, after Franco’s rise to power and at the height of the USSR’s imposition of the Popular Front policy, the working class created multiple organizations — local committees and patrols, supply committees, and revolutionary tribunals — that took control of public order, the distribution of supplies, and workplaces.7 Although they were eventually defeated, for a moment they expressed a new way of organizing society that ran parallel to the republican state. These tendencies reemerged in other revolutionary processes as well. In the Bolivian Revolution of 1952, workers developed bodies of self-organization that went on to form the Central Obrera Boliviana (COB, or Bolivian Workers’ Center), and again in the Popular Assembly which took place two decades later. In the Hungarian Revolution of 1956, an entire network of workers and peasant councils developed to resist the Stalinist bureaucracy. In the Portuguese Revolution of 1974 workers formed factory, tenant, and soldiers’ committees. Workers formed the shoras during the Iranian Revolution of 1979. In Chile in 1972, the cordones industriales played a crucial role in organizing the working class. All these revolutionary processes expressed the tendency to working-class self-organization, even if, without being taken up strategically by political currents with mass influence, these phenomena did not develop to their most advanced form.

With the advent of bourgeois restoration, the powerful bureaucratic socialist, communist, and bourgeois nationalist apparatuses — the enemies of these tendencies to self-organization — left the scene or became mere shadows of what they were in the 20th century. But this stage also marked the historic defeat of the working class, which destroyed the environment necessary for the development of councils. It opened a period of decades without revolutions. In this period the physiognomy of the working class changed enormously. It underwent a profound process of fragmentation crossed by multiple forms of labor precarization. The trade unions, though still powerful, regressed and reached new levels of statization. The bureaucracies of these unions left important sectors of the working class (the precarious and unemployed) unorganized. Meanwhile, the “new social movements” emerged, which also underwent a wide-reaching process of statization through the NGOs, with their direct links to the state apparatus. In other words, the “integral state” may have changed its appearance, but it maintained its essential function of organizing consensus for the ruling class.

Parallel to this process, however, the working class expanded globally as never before, incorporating hundreds of millions of wage earners into its ranks. The industrial working class regressed in relation to services, but at the same time it consolidated in other sectors (logistics, transport, etc.), multiplying its “strategic positions.”8 It became more heterogeneous, much more feminized, immigrant, and multiethnic, giving the working class a much greater potential for hegemonic articulation in the face of important social movements, including the feminist and LGBTQ movement, as well as the anti-racist movement and the environmental movement. The fact that as a class its members are at the intersection of many of these movements gives it significant potential to become hegemonic. At the same time, the process of urbanization brought many of its allies closer together. The current challenge is how to articulate this multiplicity of forms of struggle and movements so that they do not blur into individual struggles or end up being co-opted by the “integral state” itself.

For all these reasons, we must interrogate whether capitalist development in the last several decades — which has changed and shaped the working class and the development of social movements — means that the perspective of councils is no longer relevant. We argue that this is not the case. On the contrary, the fragmentation and heterogeneity of the working class, as well as the multiplicity of movements and forms of struggle, corresponds to the very essence of the councils as a political form. It is exactly the absence of a perspective of uniting heterogeneous forces around a class-based nucleus like the councils that led to the energy of the mass movements of dozens of uprisings in the past decade being exhausted or channeled back into bourgeois regimes, preventing the development of new revolutionary situations. The greater complexity and diversity of sociopolitical structures and of the class framework are precisely what makes councils so crucially relevant — not only because they are instruments of struggle, but also because they represent institutions of a new type of democracy, a genuine alternative to bourgeois democracy.
Councils as an Alternative to Both Statism and Capitalist Democracy

In his analysis of Thatcherism’s emergence in the 1980s, Stuart Hall argues that the power of the neoliberal Right’s anti-statist discourse was based on two phenomena: on the one hand, the assimilation of the Labour Party and sectors of the British Left into the integral state; on the other, the experience of “really existing socialism,” in which the state, instead of gradually disappearing, had become a gigantic, bureaucratic, and totalitarian force, swallowing up civil society in the name of the people. Reformists had counterposed the market and the (bourgeois) state as guarantor of certain social needs and rights, but this had exhausted itself with the decadence of the welfare state. Citizens had been turned into passive clients, dependent on state to grant them rights.9 The neoliberal Right thus opposed the idea of freedom, understood as “market freedom,” to statism, identifying the latter with “the collective” in general.

This scheme proposed by Hall is easy to apply to more current experiences. The absence of a clear left alternative to this dilemma, from our point of view, is closely linked to the near disappearance of the subject of “councils” from discussions of revolutionary strategy. This has a key theoretical dimension for revolutionary Marxism — it refers to the political forms that make possible the passage from capitalist to socialist society. After the Paris Commune, Marx and Engels had already considered “correcting” the Communist Manifesto to state that “the working class cannot simply lay hold of the ready-made state machinery, and wield it for its own purposes.” It was not simply a question of replacing one statism with another, but of putting in place a particular type of state, or “semi-state,” as Engels put it, that would strive for its own extinction — that is to say, a state that would be progressively reabsorbed by civil society as class divisions disappeared, a process of transition to socialism.

Councils are the political form or institution that can enable civil society to reabsorb the state in the transitional period from capitalism to socialism; they are the way to overcome the division between the rulers and the ruled. They represent transitory forms of political power that can pave the way for the state’s extinction.

In general terms, the subject of councils goes beyond Marxism itself. Even liberal theorist Hannah Arendt points out that

since the revolutions of the eighteenth century, every great upheaval has developed the rudiments of an entirely new form of government, which arose independently of all previous revolutionary theories, directly from the course of the revolution itself, that is, from the experiences of the action and the resulting willingness of the performers to participate in the further development of public affairs. This new form of government is the council system.10

What is distinctive about the theme of councils in Marxism, which differentiates it from elaborations like Arendt’s, is that for Marxists, councils posit the combination of “freedom” with “necessity.” In other words, the realm of public affairs includes the rational planning of economic resources for the satisfaction of social needs. We will return to this later.

When comparing the democracy expressed in the councils to bourgeois democracy, we have to start from two essential differences that go beyond the political regime and are related to the class character of the state — that is to say, it is the differences between a workers state and a capitalist state. The first difference is that in a workers state, the “special bodies of armed men” with which the bourgeoisie guarantees a “monopoly on violence” — the army, the police, etc. — is replaced by the arming of the people. The question of arming the people arose with the first bourgeois revolutions, but it acquires a special meaning in the context of socialist revolution; in this case, the “people” refers to a monopoly of force by the working class and the exploited. The second essential difference is linked to changes in property relations. The new workers’ state is based on the social ownership of the means of production.

Keeping these two differences in mind, it is useful to compare the political forms of bourgeois-democratic regimes with those of council democracy in order to better identify what makes them distinct.

One of the most well-known aspects of Marx’s analysis of the Paris Commune is his criticism of the bourgeois state’s division of powers — the executive, legislative, and judicial. He attributed to it a fictitious character of the state that, historically, led to the progressive concentration of power in the hands of the executive, a process that was accelerated in moments of crisis. In presidentialist regimes, the president virtually becomes a substitute for the constitutional monarch. In the case of the United States, Alexander Hamilton defended having a strong presidency, in which only one person carries the title, by looking to the example of the Roman Republic’s dictators.11 The “upper chamber,” or Senate, on the other hand, would act as a check on the presidency, vis-à-vis parliaments with a broader electoral base. They would represent a safeguard against the popular will in the legislative field. The judiciary proclaims its true “independence” from the popular vote. It is conceived as a “counter-majoritarian” power. The whole system of “checks and balances” is meant to prevent taking decisions that could harm the interests of the ruling classes. In classical terms: it serves to limit popular sovereignty.

About the experience of the Paris Commune, Marx wrote neither a treatise on constitutional law nor a history of public law; he was interested in opposing the bourgeois republic to the commune as a political form. To the division of powers he opposes a “working body” — one that is executive and legislative at the same time. This is central to understanding what we mean when we say “councils.” The notion of “working body” implies that the same assembly, as in the case of the commune, is elected not only to discuss resolutions but also to carry them out. This is an indispensable principle for council democracy, since it has much broader functions of government than any bourgeois democracy. It is not limited to defining the political guidelines of the state but includes the democratic planning of the economy. In the bourgeois republic, the economy is arbitrarily controlled and organized by the owners of the means of production; the portion of it that depends on elected representatives is, at best, limited to the projections of the state budget. As for the judiciary, in a system of council democracy it remains separate but loses its independence with respect to the vote and popular participation.

Another central issue is accountability to the electorate and the recallability of all public officials at any time. This fact alone makes this a very different scheme than that of bourgeois democracy. In bourgeois democracy, at least in theory, legitimate authority arises from the general consent of those over whom it is to be exercised. This principle ran through the bourgeois revolutions, including the English, French, and American revolutions. The mass of citizens is, above all, a source of political legitimacy rather than a body of persons called on to take part in government. Its right is the right to consent to power. Freedom of opinion so that the voice of the people can reach those who govern appears as a poor substitute for the absence of a right to give instructions, a counterpart to the independence of the representatives with respect to the represented. Through the vote, one can only sanction or repudiate a measure that has already been carried out. The principle of responsible and revocable representatives at all times, which constitutes council democracy, implies extending the influence of the represented beyond retrospective judgment, empowering them to determine the course of action. In other words, it aims to limit the separation between the representatives and the represented, and to chart a way to overcome it. Consistent with this, the councils take up the egalitarian principle of eliminating the privileges of public officials with a salary equal to that of any worker.

In 1934 Leon Trotsky wrote a critique of the institutional structure of the French Third Republic on the basis of these differences. He redefines some of Marx’s observations in order to outline an alternative regime through a series of programmatic proposals. Namely: the suppression of both the Senate and the presidency, and the constitution of a single assembly that would combine the legislative and executive powers, in which “its members would be elected for two years, by universal suffrage of all those over eighteen years of age, without discrimination of sex or nationality. The deputies would be elected on the basis of local assemblies, constantly revocable by their constituents and would receive the salary of a skilled worker.” It was not the program of a republic of councils but a transitional democratic-radical program to unite with the reformist workers against the Bonapartist tendencies of the regime, on the premise that “a more generous democracy would facilitate the struggle for workers’ power.”12

Trotsky’s view references the model of the Jacobin Convention of 1793 in arguing for the election of deputies on the basis of local assemblies. At that time, many of these assemblies did not dissolve after the election, and they took an active role in the political process. Here we have outlined another central feature of council democracy: establishing the means for facilitating the active and direct participation of workers and popular sectors in public affairs. As Lenin pointed out in State and Revolution, the goal of council democracy is that a majority of workers will at some point become public officials. Or as Gramsci pointed out, “Consensus is supposed to be permanently active, to the point that the consenters could be considered as ‘functionaries’ of the State and the elections a mode of voluntary enlistment of state functionaries of a certain type, which in a certain sense could be related (on different planes) to self-government.”13 In other words, this democracy is not limited to obtaining majority consent, nor to the right to revoke representatives; it also depends on the capacity of the democratic institutions of the workers’ state to promote the alternation of the positions of “ruler” and “ruled” of the largest possible contingents of the mass movement. Ultimately, the boundaries between these two roles would disappear.

In other words, it is a matter of tracing a path of deprofessionalization and diffusion of political activity. If we were to relate it to any of the classical democratic principles, it would be above all to that of isegoria, which was the equal right of citizens to speak in assembly. Of course, unlike ancient democracy, Marxism establishes this principle as directly linked to the propagation of material conditions for its exercise. A fundamental guarantee for this type of isegoria in a workers’ state would be given, as Lenin points out, “by the fact that socialism will reduce the working day, will raise the masses to a new life, will place the majority of the population in conditions that will allow everyone, without exception, to exercise the ‘functions of the state,’ and this will lead to the complete extinction of all state in general.”14

Through these mechanisms as a whole, council democracy seeks to establish an infinitely closer, more organic, more honest contact with the majority of working people than any other parliamentary institution. Its most important characteristic is never to statically reflect a majority that is ratified every two, four, or even more years, but to formulate it dynamically. For this reason it is can overcome juridical and parliamentary mechanisms, allowing majorities’ constituent power to be expressed in moments of revolutionary changes. Trotsky formulated this organic and dynamic relationship in the following terms:

The Soviet includes the workers of all industries, of all professions, whatever the degree of their intellectual development or the level of their political instruction. … The Soviets are an instrument of proletarian domination which cannot be replaced by anything, precisely because their cadres are flexible and elastic and all the modifications not only social, but also political which take place in the relative position of the classes, can immediately find their expression in the soviet mechanism. Beginning with the big factories, the soviets then bring into their organization the workshop workers and trade employees; from there they move to the villages, organize the struggle of the peasants against the landlords, and later raise up the lower and middle strata of the peasant world.15

Beyond the specific historical context of revolutionary Russia, we are interested in highlighting the concept he expresses here. This “flexible and elastic” structure allows the system of the councils to widen or reduce according to the extension or diminution of the social positions conquered by the proletariat and the mass movement. They are the most apt institutions for democratically achieving the social revolution in its internal dynamics, in its errors, and in its successes. Now, when the transition to socialism is advanced and consolidated — a stage that was blocked in the USSR by the emergence of Stalinist bureaucratization — soviet democracy can extend to the whole population, losing for that very reason its strictly governmental character and, in this way, transforming itself into a powerful tool for the cooperation of producers and consumers.

All these characteristics make the contrast between council democracy and bourgeois democracy, with its institutions that are based on universal suffrage and that appeal exclusively to the formal equality of atomized citizens. As synthesized by Ellen Meiksins Wood, in capitalist democracy, the separation between civil status and class position operates in two directions:

Socio-economic position does not determine the right to citizenship — and that is precisely what democratic means in capitalist democracy — but, because the power of the capitalist to appropriate the surplus labor of the workers does not depend on a privileged juridical or civic status, civil equality does not directly affect or significantly modify class inequality; and precisely this limits democracy under capitalism. Class relations between capital and labor can survive even with legal equality and universal suffrage. In that sense, political equality in capitalist democracy not only coexists with economic inequality, but leaves it fundamentally intact.16

This is the insurmountable limit of institutions based on formal citizen equality for any kind of transition to socialism. And here it is important to clarify a very common misunderstanding. The difference between the electoral mechanisms of bourgeois democracy and those of council democracy does not consist in the fact that one expresses the “universal” vote and the other does not. All democracy, as a regime of class domination, is based on exclusion. In bourgeois democracy, the person who is typically excluded is “the foreigner,” since it is based on a nationalist conception of democracy. Look at the United States. Millions of immigrants who are workers on U.S. soil are excluded from voting and citizenship for this reason. To this we could add that U.S. federalism allows electoral rights to be curtailed at the level of each state, and elections to be organized arbitrarily (arbitrary distribution of polling places, “suppression” of votes, arbitrary design of districts) and leaves more than 21 million citizens (nonforeigners) excluded from “universal suffrage” because they do not have the documents required for voting. The difference with council democracy is that in it, the exclusion is class based. Since it is a workers’ republic, the councils can pose — though this depends on the relation of forces — the limiting of political rights for the former class of exploiters. In the case of a socialist revolution in the United States, surely, it would affect an infinitely smaller proportion than those now excluded.

There is, then, a very important difference between bourgeois and council democracy in how they determine the electoral base. In bourgeois democracy, elections are carried out on an exclusively territorial scheme, which, as such, has its decisive feature in the more or less arbitrary determination of constituencies and electoral districts linked to the internal political subdivisions of each state. If in general the “citizen vote” is characterized by diluting the working class in the population as a whole, in particular, the territorial constituencies of bourgeois-democratic regimes are usually shaped to further dilute the political weight of urban workers. This type of organization of representation is consistent with the separation between civil status and class position. But, above all, it is consistent with the fact that the sphere of social production — in its broad sense — is excluded from democracy. Bourgeois democracy coexists with “factory despotism,” through which capital directs the production process and profits from the exploitation of collective labor power. This is essentially a dictatorship of the bosses within the work establishments, one that, at most, is moderated by legislation to protects the worker from pure arbitrariness.

In contrast, council democracy extends democratic principles to the whole of social life. Frédéric Lordon formulates an interesting idea in this sense under the notion of recomuna. With this expression he invokes the “republic,” but extends “the public thing,” arguing that radical democracy should be applied to any enterprise in which powers both coexist and compete. To illustrate this, he gives the example of industrial production, rightly pointing out that there is no reason it should be exempted from a democratic form, considering that those who participate in it put part of their lives in common there. The volume of employment, what is to be manufactured, quantities, rhythms, etc., should not escape common deliberation, since they have common consequences. “The simple recommunist principle,” he says, “is then that what affects all, must be the object of all — the word recomuna itself says it! — that is to say, constitutionally and equally debated by all.”17

The broadening of the “public thing” is at the core of how the electoral base is constituted in councilist democracy. Of course, this does not escape the territorial substratum, but it is not limited to it. The notion of “public space” goes beyond the bourgeois-democratic limits to become intertwined with the substratum that makes up the production and reproduction of society. Work establishments, such as factories, enterprises, offices, fields, hospitals, as well as schools and universities — with their teachers, their nonteaching workers, their students — among others, become the basic “constituencies” of councilist democracy as places of deliberation and election of representatives. These, in turn, retain a territorial dimension in which they are grouped and linked to the territory, forming local, regional, or national councils. This type of political organization, which roughly approximately with the organization of society itself for its production and reproduction, has several virtues that make up the essence of this type of democracy. On the one hand, it coheres the working people, as sovereign, preventing them from dissolving after each election. On the other hand, it makes it possible to connect deliberation with execution at all levels.

But is this type of democratic organization viable in contemporary complex societies? There is a traditional criticism of the council system, according to which it would represent a historically outdated experience incapable of adapting to the complexities of today’s societies. The background to this criticism, however, is that the more complex societies are, the more difficult democracy in general tends to be. If we situate ourselves from the point of view of capitalism, this is largely true. As Perry Anderson points out, “The freedom of a bourgeois democracy seems to set the limits of what is socially possible for the collective will of a people, and can therefore make the limits of its powerlessness tolerable.”18

But the key to council democracy is that it goes beyond capitalism, starting with the possibilities for democracy that would be raised by a drastic reduction in the working day, enabled by the rational planning of the economy and of labor, and, more generally, by the fact that, as Marx said, it is no longer working time that is the measure of wealth, but available time.19

The question is whether the idea of council democracy, and its implicit criticism of bourgeois delegative democracy, have lost or increased their value in our current moment. For us, the answer is clearly the latter. The conditions of contemporary societies, the greater complexity of social and political-cultural structures, the exponential extension of the working class and its greater heterogeneity, the multiplicity of “movements,” mass immigration — an irreconcilable enemy of nationalist notions of democracy — among other characteristics, make the idea of council democracy fully mature. The most developed experience in this respect, which was that of the Russian soviets during the first years of the revolution, is already more than a century old. To update the idea of the councils, it is not possible to stay there. To paraphrase Trotsky, the council democracy of the 21st century will be as different from that of the Russian soviets as our contemporary societies are from that of semifeudal czarist Russia.

The theories of the “combined state,” which sought to amalgamate bourgeois democracy with council democracy — from the original approach of Rudolf Hilferding to later versions such as those of Nicos Poulantzas or Antoine Artous, among others — have presented the councils as a kind of “social chamber,” or as an expression of a complementary corporative institutionality.20 Far from these caricatures, councilist forms of democracy for have the great potential to bring out the substantial heterogeneity and vitality of the subaltern classes, which today have been atomized and homogenized in bourgeois democracies. The single-party regime, which has sought to identify itself with “the soviets,” was established as a rule by Stalinism in the framework of the USSR’s bureaucratization, besieged by the exceptional difficulties it had to face in constructing socialism in an isolated, poor, and backward country with the means available a century ago. In this sense, it is of the first order to revalue the battle faced at the time by Trotsky and the Left Opposition to establish a plurality of soviet parties, since it represents a fundamental thread of continuity to re-create the ideas of the councilist democracy today.21 The struggle of interests, groups, and ideas between different parties and movements, the electoral struggles and heated debates are at the origin and in the very essence of the council system, so akin to the maelstrom of political passions, as opposed to bureaucratic coldness.

The identification of councils with the USSR’s totalitarian drift under Stalinism, when in fact this was its worst enemy, is one of the increasingly outdated ways of justifying the decadence of the really existing bourgeois delegative democracies. Today, these are steadily advancing toward an increasingly totalitarian authoritarianism, crushing democratic freedoms. Periodic elections have become a kind of symbolic ritual in which the voter is summoned only to formally select candidates who are discursively opposed to each other, but whose programs are centrally related and that, as everyone knows, do not count when it comes to governing. The new communication and information technologies have widened the space for public opinion, but as a rule they can do no more than reproduce the basic tendencies of current democracies. They serve as a poor substitute for the narrowing of their social base, limited to sectors of the urban middle classes and the upper strata of the working classes — a phenomenon that has always accompanied neoliberalism.

Conditions have changed considerably since Giovanni Sartori began to analyze the “video politics” under which the sovereign people “give their opinion,” to a large extent, on the basis of what the mass media induce them to think.22 The new communication and information technologies have amplified this thesis. Controlled by a small number of mega-corporations, they have been used by the ruling classes to develop typically totalitarian mechanisms. A linking of political leaders with an atomized mass beyond political mediations, parallel to the transformation of political parties into living dead. The new forms of conducting public opinion have strengthened its coercive function toward the opposing classes through the consent of allied social groups, as defined by Peter Thomas.23 These processes have gone hand in hand with the practical degradation of any substantial incidence of the popular will in defining the concrete action of governments that are increasingly independent of the “represented.”

This is not, however, the fatal destiny of the new communication and information technologies. As the revolt processes of the last decade around the world have shown, the new technologies also have a very important democratic potential. Undoubtedly, the reformulation of the theme of councils for the 21st century also implies exploring the democratic potentialities of the new technologies, removing them from the despotic control of corporations. One way of doing this would be to establish democratic control of the councils, in proportion to the votes obtained by each group in the council elections. The new technologies would have enormous potential in a council democracy for democratizing information, broadening democratic channels of discussion, and, above all, including ever-broader sectors in (strategic and daily) decision-making — that is, broadening participation and the democratic prerogative of giving government instructions.

Of course, the council system cannot work miracles; its function is to reflect the will of the people in the most dynamic, democratic, and broad way possible. The power of a council democracy will always depend on the vitality and conviction of the great majorities to advance toward socialism. Contructing a socialist society can only be the fruit of conscious activity. What we can affirm is that council democracy, based on the impulse of self-organization, is the only political form — of those we know today — to in which we can undertake a transition toward socialism and make viable the perspective of abolishing the state.
Planning, Collectivism, and the New Individualism

The question of councils is linked to another question that is fundamental to the relationship between “freedom” and “need,” and between political democracy and economic and social emancipation in the socialist project. This is the question of how to rationally and democratically plan the economy in order to satisfy the needs of the vast majority of people. Put another way, this is the question of how to do away with the guiding principle of profit, which is functional to the domination of a small sector of the population that concentrates our societies’ means for their production and reproduction.

The “economy” has a determining weight in capitalism’s discourse. Marx knew how to analyze it in depth in Capital and determine its real causes and effects. He showed how the fixing of practices — through their generalization and persistence — translates into a certain (fetishistic) way of perceiving existing relations. The classical bourgeois theory of society is based on the immediate hegemony of the economic. From the 19th century, according to Foucault’s analysis, a crucial transformation of modern governmentality took place through the introduction of political economy as a principle that limited government action: the government could carry out its duties only if it respected the “natural” laws of the economy. A great turning point, from 1870 onward, is the passage from the “classical” conceptions — which still relied on the labor theory of value to explain surplus and profit — to the school of marginal utility, for which the value of a good depends on the utility it has for economic agents. From then on, the emphasis would be on subjective desire.24 With the subjective theory of value, irrationalism is imposed on bourgeois economic thought.

The rise of neoliberalism develops these old tendencies in all their dimensions and generalizes them. Individuals become rational subjects by recognizing the possibility of maximizing their capacities and managing their behavior in order to achieve the greatest benefit at the lowest cost. Here, says Foucault, one internalizes obedience, subjection to an external power, in the belief that one is exercising one’s own singular freedom. Thus, neoliberalism takes the logic of liberalism much further. It is not only a matter of imposing limits on state action, but free-market economic policy comes to regulate government action. In turn, US neoliberalism sought to extend market rationality, its schemes of analysis and its decision-making criteria, even to areas that are not primarily economic, such as the family, demographics, crime, penal policy, etc.

The “neoliberal social contract” came to replace the welfare contract that followed World War II. Its constitution was much more elitist. Its social base was narrower. It exalted the individual and personal fulfillment though consumption even as it increased exploitation, the social degradation of the majority of the working class, unemployment, and poverty. “Clientelism” and criminalization became the fundamental neoliberal policies for these sectors. Since 2008, with the increase in inequality at a global level and, more recently, with a world crossed by growing military and commercial tensions between powers, those technologies of power proper to neoliberalism have become linked to consumption, credit, etc., and they are in a deep structural crisis.25 This is genuinely expressed by the popular revolts that have appeared on the political landscape over the last decade.

The underlying problem is the absence of new engines of capital accumulation. The profitability of investment in the main value-creating sectors is close to post-1945 lows.26 The neoliberal cycle has counteracted the fall in the rate of profit with certain measures, but it has not solved the problem of falling productivity. Since the restoration of capitalism in the former USSR, in eastern Europe, and above all in China, capitalism has found new terrain — that “outside” territory in which to accumulate capital that Rosa Luxemburg spoke about. It was able to enormously expand the law of value and massively incorporate new labor power (increasing absolute surplus value throughout the world). But what has set the tone of the last few years is that these counter-trends are losing steam. China has been transformed from a poor country, a destination for capital accumulation by the imperialist powers, into one that competes on the world market for opportunities to accumulate capital. The financialization of the economy, which has served until now as a pressure valve, is also reaching its limits.

The crisis of neoliberalism, however, has not reversed its consequences. Under the welfare state, the ideology of full employment, and the political practices it brought with it, extraordinarily reinforced the subordination of the working class. Through the statism linked to the idea of production and labor protection, the image of the worker as producer was replaced by that of the worker as only a “subject with rights.” Then, under neoliberalism, the worker as a producer was invisibilized, represented instead as a wage-earner-consumer or mere citizen. Based on the theory of “human capital,” workers appeared as the entrepreneurs of themselves. Society now came to be understood as a group of individuals who are active and free “economic agents,” guided by selfishness, who manage their behavior to achieve the greatest benefit.

Behind the theory of “human capital” hides the creative potential of the working class. Pertinent here, then, is Gramsci’s work in which he emphasizes the worker not only as a wage earner but also as a producer.27 This has been radically denied to the worker under neoliberalism. Workers appear as mere representatives of a corporate interest while, as producers, they are the potential bearers of new social relations of cooperation, of a social and productive force that can open the way to a new civilization. This creative potential of working men and women, both in the economic and political fields, is an indispensable starting point for re-creating the socialist project. Without it, the working class — and with it, of the mass movement — cannot take charge of production.

Socialism is, on the one hand, the real movement that, as Marx and Engels said, overcomes and ends the current state of affairs, in which workers struggle to regain their free time, their time for living. On the other hand, it is also the goal of a new society in which producers associate freely, work with collective means of production, and unite their individual forces into a great social labor force. From both points of view, socialism is opposed to the abstraction of economic society as pure automatism put forward by neoliberal ideology, the core of which is the attempt to subsume civil society under economic society, reduced to supply and demand. This notion of “economic society” in bourgeois terms is presented as indistinguishable from the property relations arising in civil society. Meanwhile, the state, which in fact supports and defends these property relations, presents itself as external to them.28

The productive consumption of abstract labor, that is, of labor in its purely social form, need not necessarily give rise to capitalist exploitation. It can form the basis of a social organization that takes the collective as a starting point and makes it a normal condition from which can emerge the consciousness of individuals who manage their own lives. It is a matter of making conscious people’s interdependence, of making visible the cooperation that appears to be “spontaneous” and that the “invisible hand” of the market seeks to hide. Individuality is the set of relationships of which each individual is a part. The question is whether individuals conceive of themselves as isolated monads or as rich in the possibilities offered by other individuals and society. The conscious reconstruction of cooperation, which is denied as such under capitalism, forms the basis economic planning as a social necessity. The absence of this principle finds catastrophic expression in capitalist crises.

Socialist economic planning is the organizing principle that can best respond to the crisis of capitalism. The idea that any kind of planning necessarily leads to bureaucratization is based on a unilateral reading of the experience of the USSR under Stalinism. This “common sense” has long been used by the bourgeoisie to undermine the socialist perspective. The truth is that Stalinism was an enemy of council democracy and, therefore, an enemy of democratic economic planning. This should be the starting point of any serious assessment of the matter, even abstracting from the backwardness and isolation of the USSR. For a socialist project from below, the issues of planning and workers’ councils are inextricably linked. In this perspective, plan and freedom do not contradict each other. This does not mean that there are no tensions between centralization — which is necessary to consider the totality of social needs and resources — and constructing the plan “from below.”

The plan must take the form of a set of options from which individual wills, channeled into new council-like institutions, can choose. It is a matter of converting need into freedom. That is to say, of overcoming the post facto confirmation of social needs — and the irrationality this implies, from the point of view of production and consumption — so that needs can be expressed by producers/consumers themselves, who can, on this basis, adopt a certain course of action among available alternatives. The goal is to make social management collective and to overcome capitalism as a system of private appropriation of the fruits of labor. The Stalinist counterrevolution left truncated the project embodied by Lenin in State and Revolution and later taken up by Trotsky in The Revolution Betrayed, a project for which the reappropriation of the collective went hand in hand with the rebirth of the individual within the “collectivity.”

As Gramsci pointed out, the individualism that has become anti-historical manifests itself in the individual appropriation of wealth, while the production of wealth has become increasingly socialized.29 To this he contrasts a new individualism, one that presents itself as a contest of wills but of a different type — utilitarian but disinterested. This, he posits, determines the individual’s rebirth within the “collectivity.” That is to say, a new individualism developed from within the collective, or more precisely, from the articulation of the self-management of collective life. In this case, individuals do not limit themselves to passively accepting what is imposed on them, from the outside, by unconsciously established social relations, but become conscious protagonists of the government and of collective planning. The qualitative economic shift from the private to the collective is the framework in which civil society can be revitalized as a place of self-government and the development of individual freedom (as discussed by Trotsky in his writings on the transition to socialism). It is also the prerequisite for developing that new individualism amid the conditions given by a society that is self-managed through the planning of its organic relationship with nature and with its own forms of life. In this way, necessity can be transformed into greater freedom, but not into omnipotence; its possibilities depend on the level reached by civilization at a given moment.
Socialist Planning in the 21st Century

As we know, Marx and Engels were very cautious about outlining the contours of a future socialist society. Critics of utopian socialism as they were, their work was based mainly conclusions drawn from historical experiences — in particular, of the Paris Commune. They nevertheless had some very relevant intuitions, such as the considerations on the “phases” of communism expressed by Marx in the Critique of the Gotha Program. There, he describes a first phase in which there is still no abundance of resources and some norm of distribution is necessary; here everyone receives from society according to their work. To sustain this distribution method, the state must still exist in some form. In contrast, the higher phase of communism would have as its motto “to each according to their need, from each according to their ability.” That is to say, each individual contributes to society according to their capacity and receives according to what they need. Beyond these general terms, the founders of Marxism had little to say about the planning of production.

The experience of the USSR in the 20th century created new terms for this debate. Unlike the previous stage of ideological struggle, the clash of hegemonies expressed the issue of planning not only in theoretical but also in historical terms. No revision of this theme in the 21st century can succeed without drawing conclusions from that experience. Yet there is an additional difficulty in doing so. When Marx formulated his scheme of the “phases” of communism, he did not have in mind that the revolution would triumph in a backward country and remain isolated internationally. The USSR did not reach either of those two phases described by Marx. It was not a socialist society. In The Revolution Betrayed, Trotsky states, “It would be truer, therefore, to name the present Soviet regime in all its contradictoriness, not a socialist regime, but a preparatory regime transitional from capitalism to socialism.”30 This definition is the starting point for a critical approach to that experience.

That said, the subject of socialist planning cannot be the same today as it was half a century ago, when the USSR collapsed and capitalism was restored in the countries where the bourgeoisie had been expropriated. Today, our discussion of this topic must take into account the advances in technological development, which would have fundamental consequences if applied to socialist planning. Of course, technology alone never resolves the essential contradictions of a society, but it creates new alternatives and much broader possibilities for political proposals on various problems. The starting point, then as now, remains socializing the means of production and building a workers’ state based on council democracy, but the means have changed, and it is necessary to take note of this.

The last century was marked by multiple debates on the possibilities of socialist planning: on its feasibility; on calculating values in a planned economy; on the compatibility between centralized planning to understand the whole of social needs and the decentralization required to incorporate individual preferences and democratization; on the question of quality and innovation in an economy not ruled by capitalist profit; among others. So far in the 21st century, these debates have been given a relative new impetus by the great advances in computer science, cybernetics, and communication technologies. Authors such as Evgeny Morozov, Daniel Saros, Paul Cockshott, Maxi Nieto, among others, have exposed different angles of the problematic of planning linked to new technologies, not necessarily associated with a revolutionary socialist perspective, but with bold formulations that show the vitality of the subject.

One of the classic debates on planning was about so-called socialist calculation. It was driven by figures of the Austrian school — enemies of socialism — such as Ludwig von Mises and Friedrich Hayek, from the 1920s to the 1940s. The argument was that the only form of rational economic calculation is provided spontaneously by the market through money and competition. This made socialism an inherently inefficient economic system. According to Mises, to prove that economic calculation is impossible in a socialist economy is to also prove that socialism is impracticable. There was no way to calculate the volume of information needed to assess alternative uses of labor power and available resources, no way to account for the complex pattern of demand for final and intermediate goods needed for planning at a large scale. In contrast, capitalism allegedly allowed much broader participation in decision-making through the market.

These arguments, however, refer to a utopian capitalism that not only never existed, but also clashes head-on with the most basic characteristics of the imperialist epoch, marked by military confrontation between powers to dominate markets and by the system’s profound oligopolistic and monopolistic tendencies. At present, these characteristics, in many cases exacerbated, together with the fabulous accumulation of fictitious capital in the world economy and its respective “bubbles,” make the transparency of the price system even more utopian. Mises and Hayek’s arguments received different responses, but here we are interested in those that take into account the most recent transformations.

In his classic essay “The Use of Knowledge in Society,” Hayek states that “we must look at the price system as such a mechanism for communicating information if we want to understand its real function — a function which, of course, it fulfils less perfectly as prices grow more rigid.”31 Paul Cockshott and Maxi Nieto highlight this definition of the price system as a “mechanism for communicating information,” that is, of prices not as information in themselves but as a means of transmitting it. So, if the price system is a communication system, it can be replaced by another. The only limitation would be technical one, that is, the data processing capacity needed to handle in real time the volume of information in a given economy. The authors’ conclusion is clear on this point: the computational requirements for genuine large-scale socialist planning are already available.32 In the same vein, Daniel Saros argues that the arguments of the Austrian school in relation to socialist computation have been superseded by the development of modern computer technology.33

In the decades after World War II, there were several attempts in the USSR to use advanced information technologies for planning, but none of them were successful. One of the best known deployments in this sense took place in Chile, under the government of Salvador Allende, with the Cybersyn system under the British cyberneticist Stafford Beer, who aimed to centrally coordinate all state-owned industries. Today, we are light years away from the technologies on which those experiments were based. In our era of big data, the technology for planning production and product flow already exists thanks to barcode and inventory-management software. In contrast, for example, Viktor Gluschkov’s great project in the 1960s in the USSR was to digitize telephone communications to transmit more information for planning purposes. Today, information technologies and computing capacity, as well as developments in artificial intelligence, open up a totally new field for socialist planning compared to what it was in the 20th century.

These technologies are already being used on a large scale by large capitalist corporations for intra-firm planning, which coexists with capitalist anarchy at the global level as a result of competition to maximize profits. As Nieto points out,

All these possibilities can already be seen in the operation of some of today’s leading companies in the application of new information technologies, such as Wal-Mart. This retail giant operates as a networked system that connects in real time the “core” with stores, warehouses and suppliers, all through satellite communication using Radio Frequency Identification (RFID) tagging that allows tracking the exact location of any product throughout the supply chain. Amazon, a leader in smart logistics, is a similar case. It makes a myriad of products available to consumers and, to this end, it modifies stocks and makes requests to suppliers based on real-time sales. In addition, it assigns locations, routes and warehouses using algorithms. These companies, and many others equally advanced in other fields, prefigure the type of operation of a planned socialist economy oriented towards satisfying consumer preferences.34

There is another great problem whose coordinates currently being redefined: that of the contradiction between centralized planning — which must take into account the whole economy — and the plan’s democratic aims and the decentralized character of individual preferences. Hayek argued that, since the values of the factors of production depend not only on the valuation of consumer goods but also on supply conditions for the various factors of production, only a mind that simultaneously knows all these facts could lead the planning of the economy. Historically, developments in the USSR showed planning as a reality, even under the boot of a totalitarian bureaucracy that constantly undermined the plan while dictating it. A backward country with semifeudal remnants, devastated by a bloody civil war, by two world wars, and an extensive bureaucratic counterrevolution, managed to become the second-largest economic power on the planet thanks to its expropriation of the means of production from the bourgeoisie and its (bureaucratic) planning. It even came to vie for technological leadership in the military and aerospace fields. Despite Hayek — and the Stalinist bureaucracy itself — it demonstrated the viability of planning.

Now, centralized planning with bureaucratic methods makes it possible to concentrate resources for global objectives defined as priorities, for example, the arms and aerospace race in the USSR.35 But in a diverse economy of consumer goods, production goals can multiply exponentially, making planning much more disaggregated, detailed, and complex. The volume of information required grows along with the economy’s diversification. As Trotsky notes,

If a universal mind existed, of the kind that projected itself into the scientific fancy of Laplace — a mind that could register simultaneously all the processes of nature and society, that could measure the dynamics of their motion, that could forecast the results of their inter-reactions — such a mind, of course, could a priori draw up a faultless and exhaustive economic plan, beginning with the number of acres of wheat down to the last button for a vest. The bureaucracy often imagines that just such a mind is at its disposal; that is why it so easily frees itself from the control of the market and of Soviet democracy.36

Through this lens, Trotsky addressed in the 1930s the question of what kind of organization can elaborate and apply the plan. What are the methods to control and regulate it, and what are the conditions for its success? Here, he was not referring to a socialist society, but, as we said before, to a preparatory or transitional regime from capitalism to socialism, which was what actually existed in the USSR. To answer these questions, he analyzed three systems: (1) the system of planning commissions, both central and local; (2) the system of market regulation; and (3) the system of regulation by the masses through Soviet democracy. The first one expressed the element of centralization. The preliminary projects elaborated by those commissions had to prove their economic efficiency through commercial calculation, since it was through the second system — through the pressure of supply and demand — that the innumerable protagonists of the economy, state and private, collective and individual, made their needs and their relative strength matter. As long as the transitional stage was not overcome, economic control was inconceivable without accounting for market relations, which emerged de facto. In turn, Soviet democracy — liquidated by the bureaucracy — was the only system capable of controlling the first two.

Having eliminated all control mechanisms, bureaucratic planning exponentially increased one of the basic problems of all planning, which is the imbalance among the different branches of the economy. As Trotsky points out, it is one thing to cut shoe production in half and quite another to build only half a shoe factory. “The laws that govern the transitional society,” he asserts,

are very different from the laws that govern capitalism. But they differ in no lesser degree from the future laws of socialism, that is to say, from a harmonious economy based on a proven, secure and guaranteed dynamic equilibrium. The productive advantages of socialism, of centralization, of concentration, of unified administration are incalculable. But misapplication, particularly bureaucratic abuse, can turn them into their opposites.37

The key to the whole matter for Trotsky was that the absolute priority in planning should be to improve the living conditions of the workers and their families. Guaranteeing good food, clothing, housing, and everything that makes for the welfare of the working people was the essence of the plan’s success, or, rather, the very condition for any planning of the economy from the perspective of a transition to socialism.

Now, it is also possible to think of those three levels that Trotsky spoke ab(of drafting the plan, of control in terms of the market, of democratic control of the councils) in new terms on the basis of current conditions. In the first place, the elaboration of the plan itself. The necessarily global character of the plan marks a tension between the centralized plan and its construction from below. Yet today’s computer resources and capacity to manage information in real time would greatly facilitate the creation of several alternative plans based on democratically elected councils, with the participation of trade unions, social movements, universities, environmental organizations, etc. The general macroeconomic plans should describe the economy’s different alternative future structures as well as choices on issues such as the rate of accumulation, size of different sectors (education, health, etc.), environmental considerations, length of the working day, allocation of labor force and resources by sector, etc. The different plans could be made available to everyone and be the basis for a broad discussion, including popularization of their fundamental points. The choice between the proposed plans could be debated publicly in the councils, in the mass media, and submitted to some kind of general referendum.

In itself, this type of approach to decisions in the economic field would contrast with the way decisions are made in any capitalist country, however democratic it may be. Not only because most of the fundamental decisions under capitalism (investment, distribution of labor, accumulation, etc.) are taken in a fragmentary, incoherent, and anarchic way, without considering social needs and the global proportions across different branches of the economy, but also because they are taken in a despotic way, since it is the owners of the means of production who decide, at their own discretion. Even under bourgeois democracies, the state’s annual budget — which covers, for example, global issues such as the public debt — is decided in the parliaments, if not directly by the executive powers, behind the backs of the great majority of the population. The people, voting every two or four years, can challenge those decisions only post festum, in the next election, when the consequences for the economy and society have already unfolded. The possibility of globally discussing the destiny of economic resources through a democratically decided plan marks, in itself, a qualitative improvement from the democratic point of view with respect to any capitalist political regime.

This democratic approach is also fundamental to confronting the dislocation that capitalism has provoked in the socionatural metabolism, raising the urgency of overcoming this mode of production. In the field of ecosocialism, two broad trends coexist. On the one hand, there are those who point toward degrowth and propose a drastic planned reduction of social production in order to reduce the pressure on the planet’s resources. On the other hand, there are the ecomodernists, who find the answer to this problem in accelerating technological development. Arguments such as Aaron Bastani’s case for a “fully automated luxury communism” fetishize technological development itself as a solution to a wide range of critical issues, including the response to the ecological crisis. As Esteban Mercatante points out in “Ecology and Communism,”38 technology — which is never neutral but depends on the social relations in which it is embedded — cannot be trusted on its own to solve the upheavals that any socialist planning will inherit from capitalism. At the same time, dictating beforehand that communism must commit to degrowth ends up cutting off alternatives that a society based on the socialization of the means of production could consider in order to make the welfare of society as a whole compatible with a balanced social-natural metabolism. In this regard, Mercatante takes up some of Troy Vettese and Drew Pendergrass’s proposals in Half-Earth Socialism, which seek to move away from the binarism of degrowth and ecomodernism. The authors posit that if the goal of socialism is to enable humanity to consciously regulate itself and its exchange with nature, the best way to achieve this is to choose among alternative plans that represent different visions of how society’s productive capacity can be deployed. They even show how more recent developments, such as the integrated assessment models used by climate scientists, can enrich planning mechanisms.39 Planning on a socialist basis can trace various paths toward a balance with the socionatural metabolism. The democratic elaboration and discussion of alternative economic plans, with the new possibilities that exist for this, could also play a very important role here.

At the same time, new technologies would also make it possible to amplify, in a way impossible in the 20th century, the other pole of planning: creating the plan from below. That is to say, it would facilitate not only the choice between alternative global plans but also the elaboration of the inputs (information) used to make the plan and thus better express individual preferences. As Daniel Saros points out, information technology today makes it possible to communicate individual valuation scales in a much more effective and reflective manner than market mechanisms, which leave unsatisfied all the needs that the great majority cannot afford. Saros proposes a preference-ranking mechanism formulated through “needs profiles” that would allow consumers themselves to establish which products (generic and specific) are most in demand by entering a ranking scale.40 This would mean requesting products through an electronic platform similar to those used by large online stores. Beyond the concrete terms of his approach — debatable in many aspects and elaborated at a level of detail that we cannot address here — this type of approach helps us reflect on how workers and consumers could directly intervene elaborating a draft plan. Saros thinks this scheme can be adjusted almost in real time. The concept is that, by indicating their individual preferences and needs, workers and consumers would contribute to overall planning based on a certain level of individual planning, which is not too different from what many families do today.

Today’s technology would make it possible to move away from the bureaucratic idea of the “universal mind” criticized by Trotsky, and, at the same time, to coordinate innumerable macroeconomic processes with the microeconomic level through a constant flow of information far superior to that of any market. As Morozov points out, there is no longer any need to compress a large number of heterogeneous facts into the price straitjacket, when computer chips can communicate those facts directly.41 Of course all this would imply that the means for creating alternative modes of social coordination, the so-called feedback infrastructure, would have to be socialized, wrested from the hands of the technological giants that currently monopolize it. In this way, planning in a transitional economy could preempt the market-regulation system by efficiently activating the collective and individual, state and private actors of the economy, by plausibly anticipating supply and demand. And among the different branches of the economy, it could prevent imbalances. It could address the quality problems that Trotsky warned about, as well as increase the durability of products against programmed obsolescence, which is so irrational and costly in ecological terms. A bureaucratic (workers’) state is intrinsically unable to resolve problems like this, inasmuch as quality presupposes the democracy of producers and consumers, as well as freedom of criticism and initiative.

Of course, all these schemes have only an approximate value today to fire the political imagination. Many of the authors we have cited hold evolutionary visions of the advance toward socialism and overestimate the virtues of technology itself to solve problems that, in the final analysis, are political, and depend on revolutionary methods. At the same time, in the concrete analysis, specific historical determinations will pose diverse scenarios. Besides, planning implies central issues such as the existence of a strong currency — in the case of a transitional economy or set of economies in the framework of the capitalist world market — without which all calculations could be wrecked in an inflationary tide. But, above all, it will be the system of regulation by the masses through council democracy that will define whether planning will be democratically controlled as a whole and with it, the vitality of an economy based on the truly social ownership of the means of production. Hence the indissoluble linkage of the thematic of planning with that of the councils and of both with the socialist perspective. The incorporation of new conditions for thinking about all these problems is also connected to the struggle of ideologies today, and our capacity to re-create a socialist imaginary in the 21st century. Its fate will be linked, in the first place, to the political evolution of the working class and to the possibility of new socialist revolutions yet to come.
The Struggle of Ideologies and Political Practices

So far we have concentrated on council democracy and socialist planning. Of course, the current struggle of ideologies does not end there. Yet, these are two central issues for reestablishing the link between freedom and necessity, for re-creating the socialist project in the 21st century. Both questions, far from expressing arbitrary speculations on the future of humanity, are rooted in the organic crises of contemporary capitalism. Under their influence, there is a more or less generalized disarticulation of the hegemonic structure that sustained the neoliberal cycle. The crisis of bourgeois democracy and the narrowing of the neoliberal social contract could prompt people to envision alternative ways of resolving old problems, both on the left and on the right. In this context, the prospects of a clash of ideologies are rekindled and, with them, the need to deploy the socialist project in its different dimensions.

The development of a new ideology — “new” not in the sense of mere novelty but as a factor operating at some level in real life — is a necessary but insufficient condition for displacing beliefs crystallized as common sense. A revolutionary approach, which aspires to engage in a true struggle of hegemonies, implies that the struggle of ideologies unfolds hand in hand with specific practices. When the soviets first emerged in 1905, both Trotsky and Lenin — the latter in polemic with most Bolsheviks — saw in them a new political practice developed by the mass movement, antagonistic to the bourgeois practice of politics, which made it possible to articulate the various demands and forms of struggle in new institutions of self-organization to create an alternative power. This type of approach is very relevant when we think about recoving the idea of councils today.

The problem implies a correspondence between council democracy in its ideological dimension and a certain practice of politics. This link implies the establishment of a specific form of intervention in class struggle, closely linked to the development of the working class and the mass movement’s own institutions. It begins with the vanguard and the sectors of the masses that first mobilize, even at the molecular level, through institutions of unification and coordination of struggles. Given the greater heterogeneity and fragmentation of the working class, policies such as Trotsky’s “action committees,” which we have dealt with more specifically in other articles, will be useful to consider.42 This type of institution is an indispensable building block for making united-front policies effective and, therefore, for developing councils as such. At the same time, they can empower the forces of revolutionaries as organizers of the most advanced sectors of the workers and mass movement.

The same happens with the issue of socialist planning. It presupposes the conquest of a workers’ state, but just like council democracy, it has broader meaning as an ideological manifestation, as a collective mobilizing idea. The capitalist crises, with their disorganizing effect on the relations of production, make it possible to emphasize the need for planning and the collective. In the face of these crises, the perspective of planning is linked in the first instance to the notion of “workers’ control” of production, an idea that questions capital’s command in companies while seeking to introduce an elementary idea of rational planning of resources. It is an appeal to the knowledge and creativity of workers as producers, to unmask capitalists’ robbery, and to expose the waste and arbitrariness of production imposed by capitalism in the pursuit of profit.

That is how Trotsky presents it in the Transitional Program. As a transitional slogan, “workers’ control and management” is linked to challenging the problems in workers’ own experiences, such as bosses’ despotism, privileges, and arbitrariness in the capitalist organization of production, as well as the appropriation of its fruits.43 In the Transitional Program, two dimensions of workers’ control and management coexist. One is linked to partial actions, such as workers’ occupation and direct management of companies that close, in order to transform them into public service companies. Another broader one, linked more directly to the conquest of a workers’ state, is the expropriation of private banks and the nationalization of the credit system, as well as the expropriation of strategic sectors of the economy. In both cases, implementing these measures paves the way for new practices, such as developing factory and enterprise committees, and coordinating these at local, regional, and national levels.

Taken as a whole, creating institutions of self-organization and establishing workers’ control amount to a politics that seeks allow the working class to emerge as a hegemonic subject. It transcends the routine imposed by the bourgeois regime, limited to the interpellation of workers as wage earners who fight for the price of labor power, or as atomized citizens who vote every so many years for the politician of their choice. It poses a certain type of intervention in labor unions that involves, apart from the struggles for wages, the struggle for the unity of the different sectors of the labor and mass movements, a unity that the union bureaucracy prevents. The same is true in the electoral and parliamentary terrain, where this political practice involves an intervention that goes hand in hand with the development of the extra-parliamentary struggle.

This approach is important because ideologies are also practices that conform to a certain conception of the world. They acquire consistency and become incarnated in mass sectors not by chance, but because they in some way express deep structural needs. Of course, this does not happen mechanically or automatically. For this to happen, they must participate in a struggle of ideologies that can lastingly influence practices and crystallize in a contest between alternative hegemonies. This involves constituting independent institutions proper to the mass movement. This is the “war of position” that the working class must wage for its autonomy in the face of the incorporation of its organizations to the state. This preparatory “war of position” includes moments of “war of maneuver,” but it finds its final meaning in the “war of maneuver” for the conquest of power.44

In this “war of position,” the struggle to build revolutionary parties on national and international terrains seeks to condense the will that drives the struggle of ideologies and the development of new practices that can materialize in a true hegemonic alternative. It does so by deploying a whole series of gears and cogs that sink their roots in the working class, in the social and democratic movements, and in sectors of the intelligentsia. As Gramsci said,

The decisive element in every situation is the permanently organized and long prepared force which can be put into the field when it is judged that a situation is favorable (and it can be favorable only insofar as such a force exists, and is full of fighting spirit). Therefore the essential task is that of systematically and patiently ensuring that this force is formed, developed and rendered ever more homogeneous, compact, and self-aware.45

In times like ours, when the intensity of the political returns and the terrain for the struggle of ideologies reopens, the rebuilding of the socialist project and the horizon of its transformation into a material force are increasingly intertwined. The notes we have presented herein have the double goal of rethinking two central problems for the struggle of ideologies, council democracy and socialist planning, accounting for new historical circumstances and, at the same time, assessing their link to the development of new practices and the emergence of new institutions in the mass movement and from revolutionary organizations. Beyond the aspects that we have very partially addressed, the intention of this article is, above all, to promote a debate that we believe indispensable for reconstructing revolutionary Marxism in the 21st century. We hope to have contributed to it.

Translation by Juan Cruz Ferre and Madeleine Freeman


Notes

Notes↑1 Leon Trotsky, “Completar el programa y ponerlo en marcha,” in El Programa de Transición y la fundación de la IV Internacional, vol. 10 of Obras escogidas (Buenos Aires: Ediciones IPS–CEIP León Trotsky; Mexico City: Museo Casa León Trotsky, 2017), 163.
↑2 Nicola Badaloni, “Libertà individuale e uomo collettivo in Gramsci,” in Politica e storia in Gramsci, edited by Franco Ferri (Rome: Editori Riuniti, 1977).
↑3 Contrary to any nostalgia for the Cold War, the clash of hegemonies progressively degraded, in parallel to the bureaucratic degeneration of the USSR and the bureaucratic deformations that characterized the new states that emerged from the postwar revolutions. This trend could have been reversed by the processes of “political revolution” (Berlin, 1953; Hungary, 1956; Czechoslovakia, 1968; Poland, 1980–81, etc.), but they were defeated. This hegemonic hollowing out, so to speak, made it much easier for the anti-bureaucratic uprisings of 1989–91 to be diverted toward restorationist goals.
↑4 Matías Maiello, De la movilización a la revolución (Buenos Aires: Ediciones IPS, 2022).
↑5 Antonio Gramsci, “Maquiavelo,” in Cuadernos de la cárcel, vol. 5 (Mexico City: Ediciones Era, 1999), 220.
↑6 Antonio Gramsci, “Pasado y presente: Política y arte militar,” in Cuadernos de la cárcel, vol. 3 (Mexico City: Ediciones Era, 1984), 112.
↑7 Santiago Lupe, prologue to Leon Trotsky, La victoria era posible: Escritos sobre la revolución española (1930-1940) (Buenos Aires: Ediciones IPS–CEIP León Trotsky, 2014).
↑8 John Womack Jr., Posición estratégica y fuerza obrera (Mexico City: FCE, 2007), 50 and ff.
↑9 Stuart Hall, The Hard Road to Renewal: Thatcherism and the Crisis of the Left (London: Verso Books, 2021).
↑10 Hannah Arendt, Crisis de la república (Madrid: Taurus, 1999), 232. For a critical discussion, see Claudia Cinatti and Emilio Albamonte, “Más allá de la democracia liberal y el totalitarismo: Trotsky y la democracia soviética”
↑11 Alexander Hamilton, John Madison, and John Jay, The Federalist (Indianapolis, IN: Hackett, 2005), 374.
↑12 Leon Trotsky, “Un programa de acción para Francia,” in ¿Adónde va Francia/Diario del exilio, vol. 5 of Obras escogidas (Buenos Aires: Ediciones IPS–CEIP León Trotsky; Mexico City: Museo Casa León Trotsky, 2013), 34.
↑13 Antonio Gramsci, “El número y la calidad en los regímenes representativos,” in Cuadernos de la Cárcel, vol. 5, 70–71.
↑14 V. I. Lenin, The State and the Revolution, in Collected Works, T. XXV (Buenos Aires: Cartago, 1958), 483.
↑15 Leon Trotsky, Terrorismo y comunismo (Madrid: Fundación Federico Engels, 2005), 121.
↑16 Ellen Meiksins Wood, Democracia contra capitalismo (Mexico City: Siglo XXI, 2000), 248.
↑17 Frédéric Lordon, Capitalismo, deseo y servidumbre: Marx y Spinoza (Buenos Aires: Tinta Limón, 2014), 147.
↑18 Perry Anderson, Las antinomias de Antonio Gramsci (Barcelona: Fontamara, 1981), 53.
↑19 Karl Marx, Elementos fundamentales para la crítica de la economía política (Grundrisse) 1857–1858, vol. 2 (Mexico City: Siglo XXI, 1997), 231.
↑20 According to Hilferding, the councils of the German revolution of 1918–19 were absorbed by the bourgeois state in the form of a kind of labor chambers, sterilized of their revolutionary content. On the relation between bourgeois democracy and councils in Poulantzas, see Nicos Poulantzas, Estado, poder y socialismo (Madrid, Siglo XXI, 1980). For Artous’s approach, see Antoine Artous, “Democracy and social emancipation (II),” in Marx, l’État et la politique (Paris: Syllepse, 1999).
↑21 Leon Trotsky, “La revolución traicionada,” in La revolución traicionada y otros escritos, vol. 6 of Obras escogidas (Buenos Aires: Ediciones IPS–CEIP León Trotsky; Mexico City: Museo Casa León Trotsky, 2014).
↑22 Giovanni Sartori, Homo videns (Madrid: Taurus, 1998).
↑23 Peter Thomas, The Gramscian Moment: Philosophy, Hegemony and Marxism (Leiden: Brill, 2009), 165.
↑24 Michel Foucault, Nacimiento de la biopolítica (Buenos Aires: Fondo de Cultura Económica, 2007).
↑25 In this regard, see Emilio Albamonte and Matías Maiello, “Más allá de la ‘Restauración burguesa’: 15 tesis sobre la nueva etapa internacional en contrapunto con Maurizio Lazzarato.”
↑26 Juan Chingo, “El fin de los ‘vientos de cola’ de la globalización neoliberal desde fines de 1970.”
↑27 Badaloni, “Libertà individuale e uomo collettivo in Gramsci.”
↑28 Badaloni, “Libertà individuale e uomo collettivo in Gramsci.”
↑29 Antonio Gramsci, “Introduction to the Study of Philosophy,” in Cuadernos de la Cárcel, vol. 5, 201.
↑30 Trotsky, “Revolution Betrayed,” 68.
↑31 Friedrich Hayek, “The Use of Knowledge in Society.”
↑32 Paul Cockshott and Maxi Nieto, Cibercomunismo (Madrid: Trotta, 2017).
↑33 Daniel Saros, Information Technology and Socialist Construction (London: Routledge, 2004), 99.
↑34 Cockshott and Nieto, Cibercomunismo, 36.
↑35 The priority given to these objectives was directly linked to the bureaucracy’s Cold War strategy of geopolitical competition with U.S. imperialism (which was the one that imposed these terms). It thus resignified the theory of “socialism in one country” through so-called peaceful coexistence after Stalin’s death.
↑36 Leon Trotsky, “The Soviet Economy in Danger.”
↑37 Trotsky, “Soviet Economy in Danger.”
↑38 Esteban Mercatante, “Ecology and Communism.”
↑39 In their book Economic Planning in an Age of Climate Crisis, Paul Cockshott, Allin Cottrell, and Jan Philipp Dapprich also discuss how socialist planning can help us avoid the climate catastrophe to which capitalism is leading us. Martín Schapiro, “La planificación económica en tiempos de cambio climático.”
↑40 Saros, Information Technology and Socialist Construction.
↑41 Evgeny Morozov, “Digital Socialism?”
↑42 Emilio Albamonte and Matías Maiello, “Trotsky, Gramsci and the Emergence of the Working Class as Hegemonic Subject.”
↑43 Trotsky, “Transitional Program.”
↑44 Emilio Albamonte and Matías Maiello, Estrategia socialista y arte militar (Buenos Aires: Ediciones IPS, 2017), chaps. 3 and 4.
↑45 Antonio Gramsci, “Análisis de situaciones: Relaciones de fuerzas,” in Cuadernos de la cárcel, vol. 5, 40.




Matías Maiello
Matías is a sociologist at the University of Buenos Aires and a leading member of the Socialist Workers Party (PTS) in Argentina. He is co-author, together with Emilio Albamonte, of the book Estrategia socialista y arte militar (Buenos Aires: Ediciones IPS, 2018).

Growing Chaos in the World Situation


The world is racked by war and increasing militarism against the backdrop of U.S. imperialist fatigue. The ruling class inches it ever closer to more destructive conflicts. This forms the basis for a new internationalism.

Juan Chingo 

October 27, 2024

The following is a contribution to the debates for the recent conference of the Trotskyist Fraction — Fourth International, which publishes the International Network of La Izquierda Diario. It was published on March 3, 2024.

***

How developed are the tendencies toward war?

In other articles, we have explained that the world is entering a new stage, one in which the general tendencies of the imperialist epoch are reemerging: an epoch of crises, wars, and revolutions, in Lenin’s phrase. This is confirmed by the continuation for more than two years of war between Ukraine and Russia — the first major war on European territory since the end of the Second World War. The winds of war are gaining force day by day. “European countries now spend $380 billion on defense: it was $230 billion in 2014, the year of the invasion of Crimea.” British and German politicians, experts from the Atlantic Council, the Institute for the Study of War, and other think tanks speak openly about a possible confrontation between Moscow and NATO. The British minister of defence, Grant Shapps, stated that we no longer live in a postwar world but in a prewar world.

For its part, the United States, the center of the world imperialist system, faces great difficulties. It is tired of handling two hot conflicts (Ukraine and Palestine) and one potentially hot one (Taiwan) — a sign of the overextension of its military apparatus. This, along with the potential return of Trump to the presidency, and concerns about the possible failure of the “US guarantee,” is worrying the European capitals. We are not there yet, however. This ominous prospect for “the West” means the possibility of major ruptures in Europe: some countries are seeking an alliance with Russia or China, while others align themselves more firmly with the United States. In other words, we are facing the prospect of a return to the world before 1914 and the interwar period — open confrontation between great powers, even a Third World War.

In the immediate future, the most likely scenarios are crises below the threshold represented by Article 5 of the North Atlantic Treaty, that is, without the immediate prospect of war between superpowers. In other words, we are heading toward an immediate future of increasingly dangerous local and regional wars. Further, since the United States now refuses to play the role of the world’s gendarme, it will increasingly look to its allies to play do so in their own backyards.

For example, Britain has considerably increased its military presence in the North Atlantic. This redistribution of roles generates tensions and creates difficulties of readjustment in countries such as Italy, which is still unprepared for instability in the south, especially in Africa, which shakes its zone of influence in the Mediterranean. Similar destabilizing tendencies arise in Germany with the fault line opened with Russia in eastern Europe and the Baltic countries. In this context, Poland stands out as an anti-Russian outpost ready to play the role of NATO gendarme in this hot zone. At the same time, as the influence of the United States as a hegemonic power among the Western bloc diminishes, and tensions within that bloc will multiply, as illustrated by Turkey’s moves within NATO.

There are even more such tensions in the case of the “anti-Western bloc” led by China and Russia, due to its much more heterogeneous character. This is evident in the mutual distrust of its two main pillars. Moscow is afraid of being overdependent on China, as well as China’s growing influence in central Asia. Russia has recently thawed relations with North Korea, motivated by its need for armaments for the Ukrainian war and labor power for Russian industry.

More generally, “the West” is still processing the shock war having returned to Europe. Despite many differences, there are certain striking parallels with the situation in Europe at the end of the 19th century and the beginning of the 20th, a period that was marked by two antagonistic blocs. At that time, French general Ferdinand Foch — who would go on to become the commander in chief of the Allied armies in 1918 and lead the final offensive against Germany — wrote,

Today’s armies are condemned to long periods of peace. Suddenly, Europe is shaken: it is war, of titanic proportions. Faced with this new situation, public opinion is confused. They demand victory from their officers. But were they really prepared?1

From a class perspective, from a revolutionary socialist perspective, it is clear that we must make every effort to ensure that the answer to this question is no, that we must help the masses mobilize to stop the ongoing warmongering escalation. But for that to be effective, we must assess the actual strength of our class enemies and the obstacles they face in their endeavor to impose such a tragic destiny on humanity as a whole.
U.S. Imperialist Fatigue and International Politics

The deep foundations of US imperialist fatigue come from the very exercise of its imperialist supremacy, pushed to its limits during the neoliberal offensive and the “harmonious” advance of globalization. Post–Cold War unipolarity was supposed to bring the world into closer alignment with the United States through the market, democracy, and military might. Instead, the last 30 years have seen military defeats, severe economic inequalities at home, and heavy international burdens. In particular, the neocon-driven “attempt to redefine imperialist hegemony” in the early 2000s turned into its opposite with the defeats in Iraq and Afghanistan. Yet US interventionism has only grown (if we take into consideration invasions and other military involvements, only Andorra, Bhutan, and Liechtenstein have not seen US armed forces on their territory). This, together with the relative deindustrialization generated by “globalization” at home, led to the emergence of a new isolationist sentiment: the feeling that the United States is doing too much abroad rather than tackling economic and social challenges at home. First Trump and then Biden put forward the idea that the priority is to rebuild America. In other words, the attempt to “Americanize the world” has ended in great disillusionment, weakening the United States internally.

There is no more important element to understand the dynamics of the international situation than the state of US imperialist fatigue. This is first and foremost a question of resolve. As Stephen M. Walt, Foreign Policy columnist and Harvard University professor, puts it, “America is suffering from a resolve gap.”

US citizens are increasingly unwilling to bear the indefinite costs of defending their country’s global hegemony; a growing number of people contest the use of force abroad, refuse to serve in the military, demand limits on spending for allied support, and so on. This refusal to make sacrifices for US imperialism is linked to increasing social suffering: daily shootings, declining life expectancy, widespread depression among young people, plummeting quality of education, and the opioid epidemic (which is among the leading causes of death among adults under 50). The formerly strong labor aristocracy (misnamed the “middle class”) has seen the erosion of its living conditions, as showed by the UAW strike in 2023.

This decline results from globalization, or in Marxist terms, the internationalization of productive capital and the creation of value chains controlled by large multinationals. These processes have destroyed a great deal of domestic manufacturing capacity, causing relative deindustrialization, to which the Biden administration has tried to respond with its the “reindustrialization” measures. Thus, while the numbers show a booming economy, economic dissatisfaction continues to grow: the service sector cannot compensate for the level of employment among the “losers” of industrial relocation and the rationalization of the production process. In other words, the so-called American dream is stuck.

This situation is complemented by an institutional crisis, in which reaching compromises is practically impossible, as shown by the successive failures in the renewal of arms supplies to Ukraine due to sharp political polarization. Or, in a less visible but nevertheless serious example, planning long-term military spending has become impossible due to horizontal cuts and bureaucracies’ refusal to eliminate unnecessary programs, resulting in a war industry that has atrophied; one expression of this is that the navy has fewer and fewer ships, meaning that such vital functions as ensuring freedom of navigation can be severely compromised by even one of the poorest states in the world, Yemen. The inability of Congress to make decisions fuels the already-rampant distrust in federal institutions.

This institutional crisis has eroded certain pillars of US power. Above all, it has eaten away at the ability to wage a protracted war against an enemy of equal stature. On the one hand, the vast majority of young Americans are unwilling or unfit to serve in the military. In 2023, much of the armed forces missed their recruiting targets by 25 percent. This meant that the crisis of youth recruitment that hit the army in 2022 (with the lowest rates since voluntary conscription was introduced in 1973) has now extended to the rest of the military. Likewise, the US population is becoming less and less fit to serve in the armed forces. Factors such as obesity, physical and mental health problems, and even drug and opioid use mean that many young people are disqualified from military employment before they even apply.

But there are deeper problems: the military is less revered than in the past. Compared to institutions such as public education, public health care, and Congress, the military remains quite popular. Historically, however, public opinion about the military is clearly declining. According to a survey by the Ronald Reagan Foundation and Institute, from 2018 to 2022, confidence in the uniformed services fell from 70 percent to 48 percent. By 2021, in parallel with the disastrous withdrawal from Afghanistan, approval fell to 45 percent. Such a sudden plummet has not been noted for any other national institution. Finally, as we shall see below, the new wave of competition between the major powers does not particularly excite young people.

In addition to this problem of public enthusiasm, the United States faces another issue. The armed forces were subjected to the same rules of the neoliberal wave. Thus, in the United States’ “unipolar moment,” the war industry entered a period of low production intensity. Precise budgetary decisions systematically reduced munitions production. Entire industries were kept to a minimum for decades so as not to dismantle them. In some cases, it was only orders from foreign countries that kept certain capacities alive. The need today to produce ammunition in large quantities in a relatively short time collides with structural factors.2

On the one hand, US economic primacy is no longer based, as it was in the 20th century, on manufacturing industry, but on high technology and finance. As a consequence, the United States has managed to develop the most sophisticated weapons in the world, but at the price of being unable to produce them on a large scale.3 Along with this, as in the economy as a whole, there is a troublesome shortage of the skilled labor that such production requires, which severely limits the United States’ ability to fill the many orders received by arms manufacturers. Finally, the growing concentration of the defense industry is beginning to worry the Pentagon, as it creates bottlenecks, undermines incentives for innovation, and reduces its bargaining power (for example, the managers of these companies do not agree with increasing ammunition production without multiyear contracts, normally stipulated for ships and aircraft).4

Consequently, the greatest limit on the United States’ international power is on its domestic front. The diagnosis of Robert Gates, former head of the CIA and the Pentagon, is ruthless:


The domestic scene today is far from orderly: the American public has turned inward; Congress has descended into bickering, incivility, and brinkmanship; and successive presidents have either disavowed or done a poor job explaining America’s global role.

How, then, can we understand the significant changes in the United States’ management of the world (dis)order? There are many conflicting factors at play: the United States is forced to increasing chaos, giving priority to both the domestic front and the international front in its competition with China; at the same time, it must continue to affirm that the decline of its hegemony is relative — not absolute — given that the United States is still the dominant power and is likely to remain so in the near future.

First, the crisis of US hegemony is challenged amid an accelerating international situation in which great power rivalry has reappeared and US domination has been contested; in addition, this opens up the possibility for leaps in the class struggle as a consequence of wars and the unprecedented suffering of the masses.

Second, the United States is reaching the increasingly visible limit of its imperialist overextension. During the first phase of the Ukrainian war, the United States managed to regain some of its influence on the international scene after the debacle in Afghanistan, recomposing and extending NATO and an “extended Western” front, which includes Asian powers such as Japan and South Korea. Some of these conquests continue, as shown by the entry of Sweden and Finland into NATO, which definitively transforms the Baltic Sea into an “Atlantic lake,” adding pressure on St. Petersburg and Kaliningrad. But the opening of a third, unexpected front in the Middle East touches a limit of the United States’ imperialist reach. It is caught in the middle of interventions in two hot fronts while keeping an ever-watchful eye on Taiwan. Meanwhile, the United States’ decisive support for Israel destroyed the last bit of political capital it had left in the so-called Global South, which was already largely reluctant to line up behind the hegemonic power against Russia. Similarly, the United States’ post-Ukrainian rhetoric has also been damaged in the “public opinion” of the imperialist countries and especially in the United States itself, as evidenced by Biden’s difficulties with the youth in the streets protesting for Palestine, who may not vote in the next presidential election.

Finally, and perhaps the most important change with continental consequences, concerns the relationship between the United States and Europe. The United States, which has guaranteed the security of the Old Continent since the end of the Second World War (while maintaining political control over it, especially over Germany), is leaving the European powers increasingly on their own, giving them the heavy burden of managing the Ukrainian crisis. The latter is no longer a US priority; taken with the deep crisis facing the main — albeit limited — European hegemony, Germany, this opens a period of strong instability and possible danger in one of the main imperialist centers. There is also the possibility of new tensions if Trump wins the election, since he does not abide by the old postwar alliances as Biden and the Democrats do.
Germany’s Strategic Backtracking and Disorientation Poses a Danger to European Stability

If there is one country that has been hit hard by the changes in the international situation, it is Germany. Before the Ukrainian war, Germany had made up for its lack of geopolitical power with economic success. It benefited from — and at the same time was subdued by — the US nuclear umbrella, Germany excelled in geoeconomics. Thanks to the stable supply of cheap energy from Moscow and the growing interconnection with the Chinese market, Germany revived its manufacturing power and protected its export companies against international competition while profiting from the European market. In turn, Berlin was at the forefront of changes in manufacturing thanks to digitalization: its famous “Industry 4.0” plan, drawn up by German industrialists and consulting firms, was later copied more or less all over the world. This Germany, a bastion of stability, certainly acted as an undisputed hegemon in Europe, not only because of the absolute centrality of the German economic core but also because of its proven capabilities within European institutions.

Today, in the face of strong shocks to Pax Americana, which are beginning to be seen both in the conflicts in Ukraine and in Gaza, Berlin finds itself geopolitically disarmed. Worse, it fears entering a disordered world in which Germany must rely on itself for security. The most remarkable result is that the debate about the bomb has been reignited; however, unlike in those years, this is no longer a fringe issue situated at the political extremes. It is openly talked about in the pages of Spiegel, one of the most widely read magazines in Germany.

On the other hand, the US has used the proxy war against Russia more or less explicitly to strike a blow at Germany. The same is the case with China. In other articles we have already explained the strong geopolitical tensions between the United States and the main European imperialist power, tensions that preexisted Russia’s invasion of Ukraine; Germany is increasingly perceived by the US as a latent enemy. For the United States to maintain the hegemony it established after the defeat of the Nazis in World War II, it was vital to block Germany’s eastward path.

The sabotage of the Nord Stream, a direct maritime pipeline between the Russian exporter and the German consumer that bypassed Poland and the Baltic countries, is the most illustrative example of this ominous outcome for German power. This is a resounding blow to the Russian-German energy link, once a pillar of the special relationship between Berlin and the Kremlin. Whether it was carried out by the US directly or through third parties or the most anti-Russian countries to please the United States, it is clear that no one in Washington was outraged by it.

This is just one in a series of catastrophes that have struck Berlin since the start of the Ukrainian war. The loss of cheap Russian gas meant replacing it with much more expensive Norwegian gas. This was followed by the contraction of trade with China, from which the automobile industry in particular is suffering, unprepared for the electric car offensive in the Chinese market and beyond. Added to this is the serious loss of control of Germany’s informal economic hinterland, which stretches from eastern France and northern Italy to eastern Europe; it is the domain of the German geo-economy par excellence, from which Poland is claiming a whopping 1.3 billion euros in reparations for the treatment it suffered under the Nazis. Although Warsaw will never see this sum, the claim expresses Poland’s emergence and new geopolitical confidence as Washington’s privileged anti-Russian (and anti-German) European partner. At the same time, the United States is trying to offload on Germany — and therefore on the other European imperialist powers — the billions that will be required for reconstructing Ukraine.

Economically, this is reflected in a structural crisis. The so far modest recession in Germany conceals its depth; it expresses stagnation in the continent’s economic engine, whose growth model (which was very successful in previous moments) needs a restructuring that will take many years. Several companies in the real estate, engineering, and healthcare sectors (traditionally considered crisis-proof) are at risk of insolvency. As the Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung puts it, “The growing number of insolvencies is not only due to the usual ups and downs. The difficulties have deeper causes.”

Of particular concern is the automotive sector, which is increasingly under pressure from competition by Chinese start-ups, which have mockingly benefited from the high level of Teutonic technology transfer. Volkswagen CEO Thomas Schäfer issued a cry of alarm: “The future of the VW brand is at stake,” he said. “High costs, falling demand, growing competition … The list goes on. … The roof is on fire.” In response to these remarks, the Economist suggested that the auto giant could have the same fate as Nokia.5 The French employers’ daily Les Echos states,


The chemical industry, at the beginning of the value chain, has also been devastated since BASF announced the closure of part of its production. With rising energy costs, more and more companies are announcing relocations, as in the case of household appliance manufacturer Miele, which plans to manufacture its washing machines in Poland in the future. This is a “structural, almost tectonic upheaval,” commented Jochen Schönfelder, an expert at the Boston Consulting Group, in the magazine WirtschaftsWoche.

For its part, the board of ThyssenKrupp, Germany’s largest steelmaker, expects to lose about 20 percent of its workforce after closing a large steel furnace, two rolling mills, and the processing plants that create steel products. This is the biggest restructuring of the German steel industry since the merger of Thyssen and Krupp in 1999.

While at the economic level Germany may face significant changes, it does so from a position of relative strength; in contrast, in the military domain — where it has been historically weak — it faces a more complicated scenario. As a Financial Times special report on the German Army puts it,


At the end of the cold war, the Bundeswehr had a troop strength of half a million, making it one of Europe’s most formidable fighting forces. But between 1990 and 2019, manpower fell by 60 per cent. The army became a kind of orphaned child, starved of funds. Military hardware was either mothballed, sold off or scrapped. One study by the German Economic Institute (IW) found the army had been underfunded relative to Nato standards by at least €394bn between 1990 and the early 2020s.

For the first time in at least 30 years, war is no longer unthinkable in Germany. In November, the popular defense minister, Boris Pistorius, sounded the alarm, saying that the world should be prepared for the “worst-case scenario” in which Russia attacks Europe, forcing it to carry out a defensive war. It is true that this rhetorical escalation is linked to maintaining Germany’s vastly increased military spending — guaranteed until 2027 by the €100 billion fund established thanks to Chancellor Olaf Scholz’s “Zeitenwende” (turning point) policy. But Pistorius himself admits that such warnings are also designed to “wake up the Germans.”

Yet, despite the German government’s new rhetoric and declared intentions, for the time being, rearmament faces difficulties: the Bundeswehr remains the least effective of the armies among Europe’s most powerful countries. Worse still, according to the same Financial Times (FT) report, “despite all the new money, the Bundeswehr is in many ways even less well equipped than it was before the Russian invasion of Ukraine. Germany has given a lot of its best kit to Kyiv. And it is still not clear how and when the gaps will be filled again.”6

As we have already argued, the greatest shift has been Germany’s increasingly warlike rhetoric. In the past, politicians who advocated an increase in the defense budget were relegated to the background. Today, those who try to warn against militarism are on the defensive. Again, according to the FT, the defense minister has gone so far as to state in an interview,


Germany must become “kriegstüchtig” — a word that means “ready to wage war and capable of doing so.” It drew howls of protest from the pacifist wing of his Social Democratic party. The shift in rhetoric has been astonishing to some. “Five years ago, people would have called Pistorius crazy for using that word,” says [foreign policy advisor Christoph] Heusgen. “Now he’s Germany’s most popular politician.”

Above all, Berlin is trying to find a narrative to persuade the public to accept rearmament without producing terrifying convulsions in society. Central to the message is convincing Germans that Germany is worth defending. The effects on public opinion are still ambiguous. While percentages of support for defense spending are rising and confidence in the military is growing strongly — and the main concern of young people is no longer climate change but war — more than half of Germans are cautious about Berlin’s foreign policy; almost 70 percent do not want Germany to assume a military leadership role in Europe.

In conclusion, the end of Germany’s economic, social, security, and geopolitical stability is opening up a crisis of consensus unprecedented in the history of the Federal Republic. One pollster claims that Germany’s political fragmentation is “frighteningly similar” to that of the 1930s, drawing a comparison with the “Weimar” period before the Nazis took power. The most overt evidence of the new political climate is the brutal rise in influence of Alternative für Deutschland (AfD), a far-right formation created in 2013. AfD is the second-most popular party in the country; it follows the Christian Democratic Union of Germany (CDU), and comes ahead of the three forces that make up the Ampel-Koalition (consisting of the Social Democrats, the Democratic Party, and the Greens). According to polls, its coleader Alice Weidel is more popular than Chancellor Scholz.

Although anti-immigration policies and economic difficulties account for much of the AfD’s meteoric rise in recent months, geopolitical issues are now playing a greater role. More and more openly, the “anti-system forces” are demanding a revision of the conditions that allowed Germany’s integration into the US-led system. Weidel wants to hold a “referendum on Germany’s exit from the EU” and argues that Brexit should be a “model” for Germans. Sahra Wagenknecht, a former Die Linke MP who has just founded her own party, calls for restoring the energy link with Moscow, certain that Berlin is “waging an economic war against itself.” The leader of the AfD’s Thuringia branch, Björn Höcke, quotes Putin as saying that Germany and Russia together would be “unbeatable” and argues that “the interests of the United States are not the interests of Europe.”

All this is combined on the social level with growing “French-style” tendencies in the field of class struggle, as shown by the logistical and administrative paralysis caused by the recent wave of strikes by train drivers and farmers, as well as by massive demonstrations against the growth of the Far Right, combined with elements of sharp internal division, “American-style.” In this context Minister of Agriculture Cem Özdemir warned about the social climate in Germany, pointing out that “this is a dangerous division that can lead to conditions like those we see in the United States: people no longer speak to each other, no longer believe in each other and accuse each other of all the evils of the world.”

All the above leads us to say that Germany will emerge defeated from the Ukrainian war, whatever its outcome. Berlin sees how its image abroad is gradually eroding and is forced to focus on the imbalances on the internal front. Germany is entering a period of profound strategic disorientation that, given the country’s undeniable centrality, is having an impact on European politics and stability. The icy coldness in Berlin and other European capitals toward French president Emmanuel Macron’s statements leaving the door open to sending European troops to Ukraine is only one of the serious dissidences that could fracture Europe. The fact is that while the French president has affirmed that “Russia’s defeat is indispensable for the security and stability of Europe” — though it is not clear how he backs up these statements — the German chancellor is more realistic. Scholz is betting on a draw in the war; he does not want Putin to occupy more Ukrainian territory. But neither is he willing to support Ukraine in the struggle to liberate Russian-occupied territory.
Turkey Takes Advantage of the Weakness of the Major Powers

If there is any power that is making the most of the greater chaos in the international situation — generated by the weakness of the United States on the international scene, as well as the weakness of Russia in the USSR’s former area of influence as it exhausts its capacities in war — it is Turkey, which is positioned as an essential player in the different crisis scenarios.

As a member of NATO and in the face of Russian fears, Ankara is increasingly gaining geopolitical importance, thanks to the war in Ukraine. Turkey, taking advantage of its long-conquered military strength,7 is positioned as the only regional actor that can curb Russian expansionism while maintaining a tactical agreement with Moscow, despite the countries’ conflicting interests on several issues.8 This skillful geopolitical scheme allows it to oscillate between the needs of the United States and its main regional opponent. Thus, during the war, Turkey demonstrated to the world its mediating role as the only NATO country still in talks with Putin, which enabled Turkish president Recep Erdoğan to arrange for the safe passage of Ukrainian grain ships through the Black Sea during much of the conflict.9 Moreover, the possibility of a new US capitulation after Afghanistan, leaving Ukraine on its own, would amplify Turkey’s role in containing Russia in the face of Washington’s growing credibility crisis; at the same time, Ankara would improve its balance of power in the relationship with Moscow due to the heavy attrition the Russians will have suffered from the war. The fruits of Turkey’s newfound geopolitical significance are already in sight: in the end, Ankara got its way in the F-16 tug-of-war with the United States,10 or, through its military and political support to Azerbaijan in its recent war with Armenia over control of Nagorno Karabakh, Ankara has risen to hegemony in the Caucasus to the detriment of Moscow.

In relation to the Middle East, Erdoğan intends to place himself at the center of the chaos. His bet is that, at the end of the war in Gaza, the United States will be forced to allow other geopolitical coordinates than those of recent years. Israel has been the United States’ undisputed priority, while Iran was growing stronger as a regional power; this combination made it possible to contain Turkish expansionism, through a balance of power that would prevent the emergence of a regional hegemon and perpetuate a remotely manageable chaos. Let us not forget that from 2011 to 2016 in Syria, Turkey was crushed in the confrontation between the United States and Russia; on the US side, Obama made the key calculation to refuse to overthrow the Bashar al-Assad regime, sided with the PKK east of the Euphrates, and legitimized Iran’s regional ambitions to contain Turkey.

With Hamas’s attack on October 7, 2023, this regional scheme blew up, due to Israel’s strategic blindness. This is made clear by the increasing risk of regional conflict, which is what Washington wants to avoid at all costs. Erdoğan believes that after the current disaster in the Middle East, the need for a new regional arrangement will allow him to take his revenge: growing US weakness and, at the same time, the need to manage this dangerous region from a distance, enhances Turkey’s position of strength. For someone will have to guarantee the security of Saudi Arabia, contain Iran, and manage the recurrent quarrels between the various local actors in a region where anti-Zionism will strengthen, further isolating the racist state of Israel. Again, Turkey, unlike Iran or other regional powers that openly confront the US, is willing to take advantage of the imperialist powers’ weakness as a part of the NATO bloc led by Washington. Turkey will offer its services to the hegemon as it pulls the rope of that cooperation as much as possible without breaking it.

Erdoğan’s recent trip to Cairo, which definitively closes the wound opened in 2013 by the violent overthrow of Mohamed Morsi, implies a leap in collaboration with the al-Sīsī dictatorship, to which Turkey will supply the powerful combat drones, while both countries intend to coproduce different types of ammunition used in new-generation drones. This important partnership with Egypt would greatly increase Turkey’s weight in the regional equation, giving it a considerable competitive advantage over Israel and Iran.

With its strengthened position in the region and by making itself indispensable to the United States in western Eurasia, Ankara intends to make strategic gains in the eastern Mediterranean, taking advantage of Israel’s difficulties and, more problematically, reinforcing itself against Greece, its historical enemy (and contradictorily, fellow NATO member). Although Turkey will not want to miss this opportunity as in the past (Erdoğan came out heavily at a loss from his support for the Muslim Brotherhood in Egypt in June 2012), the road is by no means easy. It is full of obstacles: instability means that a bad geopolitical and/or military move can bring down the whole edifice; Turkey’s economy, even if the country now counts on the financing of the Gulf countries with which it has reconciled, remains flimsy. Above all, the ups and downs of revolution and counterrevolution, as was seen in Egypt after the fall of Mubarak, can wreck the best neoimperial plans. In particular, the Egypt of Al Sisi, which Erdoğan is approaching, is a social bomb; it evokes the specter of the serious crisis that Lebanon went through after 2019. A crisis of that proportion can undermine the plans of the “new sultan of Anatolia” — as well as those of all the reactionary bourgeoisies of the Middle East.
Resistance to Militarism and the Possible Awakening of Proletarian Internationalism

The linchpin in the current militarist turn will be the masses, or “public opinion.” This is by far — and fortunately — the most backward element in the preparation or readiness for war.

As we have argued above, in the United States — the dominant hegemonic power — fewer and fewer people are willing or able to enlist, and there has been a sharp decline in the popularity of the armed forces. More interesting are some of the reasons for these trends. Unlike previous generations, especially those born after Pearl Harbor and particularly during the Cold War, young Americans have no special attachment to “American exceptionalism,” have not experienced real risk from foreign aggression, and look askance at their country’s global position. These conditions make them unlikely to risk their lives for “the homeland.” This is a matter that unnerves geopoliticians, who fear the growing slide of a significant part of the United States toward the ethereal softness of posthistory, or, to use a sexist stereotype, the “feminization” of future soldiers and the “wokeness” that is reducing military recruitment and retention, in the view of some Republican politicians.

But behind these attitudes are not only changes in lifestyles or politics, but fundamentally an awareness of the horrific traumas that wars have left behind. Thus, according to US Army marketing director Alex Fink, “the top three reasons young people cite for rejecting military enlistment are the same across all the services: fear of death, worries about post-traumatic stress disorder and leaving friends and family — in that order.” Young people find military careers too stressful. They have no intention of “putting their life on pause.” And, according to one officer, “they are convinced that serving under arms will cause them physical or emotional trauma.” This is the living legacy of Iraq and Afghanistan: by 2021, 75 percent of veterans reported suffering from mental disorders. Commenting on why military recruitment is in crisis, Ryan McMaken, executive director at the Mises Institute, says,

It’s easy to see why many young people don’t find military service especially enticing. The U.S. military lost in Iraq and Afghanistan, and hasn’t won a major war since 1945. More clever potential recruits are likely to notice that the U.S. invasion of Iraq was no more morally justified than the Russian invasion of Ukraine. Potential recruits with critical thinking skills might also notice the military is itching to turn American soldiers into fodder for Russian artillery. In previous ages, the usual regime propaganda might have worked to convince potential recruits that “we’re fighting the Russians in Ukraine so we don’t have to fight them in Kansas City.” It’s a variation on a common lie that warmongers tell Americans. But now, the military can’t even take for granted that conservatives — historically a key demographic for recruiters — will believe it anymore. Thanks to a shift in foreign policy views among conservative populists, many young men in middle America see a disconnect between the regime’s latest wars and actual defense of the “homeland.”

If these motives are perhaps most acute in the United States, as shown by the phenomenal movement in support of Gaza and most dramatically by the tragic immolation of an American soldier shouting “Free Palestine,” they are not unique to the leading superpower. For example, more than a third of British young people under the age of 40 would refuse military conscription in the event of a new world war, a figure higher than the number of people who say they would volunteer for or accept compulsory military service.11

These elements show how public opinion in the “West” is little prepared for the new era of high-intensity wars, a euphemism for wars between powers. As this complaint of two Marine chaplains writing in the official journals of the main institutions of the armed forces shows: “Young service members (and potential service members) are confused about what ‘great power competition’ is … Gen-Z can and will fight. But first, they need to understand why that fight is necessary.”

The major states have not yet won the hearts of the new generations. The bourgeoisie will try to use the growing misery and the poison of protectionism and patriotism to break the more tolerant, open, and peaceful way of thinking of the new generations. This may change the equation in terms of the significance of the nation-state for the masses. We are just beginning to see the social, political, and ideological consequences of the Pandemic, which showed the essential role of workers. In the wake of the wave of globalization, the nation-state appeared — beyond its central character as a fundamental and indispensable instrument of globalization — as a refuge from the voracity of capital and transnationals. This appearance inverted the terms of the slogans of the Communist Manifesto of the 19th century — contradictorily, the bourgeoisie appeared internationalist and the proletariat more nationalist.

The growing turn to militarization and rivalry between great powers shows the most abject face of the nation-state’s return to the foreground. These are the objective conditions that make it possible for proletarian internationalism to revive, if we revolutionaries know how to win the hearts and minds of the new generations. In fighting for the hearts of the new generations of workers, the future of the coming decades is possibly at stake. The need for an open ideological and political struggle against the tendencies to war ceases to be propagandistic and acquires a new vitality. In the imperialist countries, it is perhaps one of the main levers for reviving class consciousness, as the international movement in support of the Palestinians is incipiently showing. Recall that the young activists of the late 1960s and 1970s carried their defiance of the ruling class over the Vietnam War into the workplace, helping radicalize it. Possibly the wars in Gaza and Ukraine are reverberating or will reverberate in the workplaces as well. That is why the strong capitulation of much of the Left to NATO in the Ukrainian war is serious, at a time when new political generations are awakening to the horrors of the foreign policies of their governments. The Leninist teaching that our main enemy is at home has a renewed relevance.

Translation by Madeleine Freeman


Notes

Notes↑1 Jean-Dominique Merchet, Sommes-nous prêts pour la guerre? (Groupe Robert Laffont, 2024).
↑2 The US war machine took about two years after Pearl Harbor to reach its industrial boom, which is not at all comparable to the situation today.
↑3 The example of World War II is instructive, as shown by journalist Jean-Dominique Merchet: “Nazi Germany was in the race for its technological performance, while the United States relied above all on its industrial performance, i.e., its ability to mass-produce at lower cost. The German Tiger tank was far ahead of the American Sherman, but almost 50,000 of the latter were produced, compared to less than 1,800 Tiger I and II. The German V1 and V2 missiles explored the ways of the future, but did not have the same strategic impact as the B-17 or B-24 four-engine bombers. The same was true of fighter aircraft: the Americans did not use any jet aircraft during the conflict, unlike the Germans, who had no less than four different models (Me-262, Ar-234, He-162 and Me-263). As for the German Type XXI submarines, their revolutionary technology made no difference. Although 118 of them were built starting in 1943, only two were able to enter operational service due to their complexity. By contrast, the 2.710 American Liberty, built simultaneously in 18 shipyards in a standardized fashion, at a rate of three ships every two days, was an essential element in the Allied victory.” Sommes-nous prêts pour la guerre?
↑4 Since the 1990s, major defense companies have consolidated from 51 to five (Raytheon, Lockheed Martin, General Dynamics, Boeing, and Northrop Grumman). By 2020, they shared 36 percent of all Pentagon contracts, a growth of 71 percent from 2015.
↑5 A few years later, Nokia was dismantled and its cell phone business was sold to Microsoft, which has since closed it down. “What if Germany stopped making cars?” the Economist.
↑6 In the war of attrition in Ukraine, first the old armored vehicles inherited from the former GDR were sent to Kyiv, then the obsolete versions of the Leopard-2 tanks, and finally the scarce and expensive state-of-the-art systems vital for any army were demanded. The quoted article says, “For example, Germany donated 14 2000 armored howitzers, one of the most advanced systems of its kind in the world. But under current contracts, only 10 of them will be replaced. A Defense Ministry spokesman stated that there is an option to buy 18 more for the army, ‘if funding allows.’ Meanwhile, plans to swap the five Mars II rocket artillery systems supplied to Ukraine for five Israeli-made “Puls” multiple rocket launchers are proceeding at a snail’s pace, as the Bundestag has yet to approve the purchase. It could also take years before the Bundeswehr manages to replace the 18 Leopard 2 A6 battle tanks it delivered to Kiev.”
↑7 Turkey’s defense industry is increasingly becoming a serious exporter. Faced with the United States’ decision in the 1980s to refuse to sell arms to Turkey after it occupied northern Cyprus, Turkey set out to become more militarily self-sufficient, developing its own missiles and other military equipment. Today, it is a leading developer and producer of drones. Its Bayraktar TB2 model was used by the Ukrainians in the early days of combat with great success. The success of the drones and their high profile during the Ukrainian war created a new demand. Currently, 24 countries have already contracted this model.
↑8 On the one hand, Ankara provides military and diplomatic support to Kyiv, and its president vowed never to accept Moscow’s seizure of Ukrainian territory. Turkey no longer recognizes Russia’s annexation of the Crimean peninsula in 2014. On the other hand, however, it never joined “the West” in imposing sanctions on Russia; rather, it became one of the main buyers of Russian crude oil, behind only China and India. Moreover, Istanbul’s airport remains a hub for flights to and from major Russian cities.
↑9 Ukraine, known as the breadbasket of the world, is among the world’s 10 largest suppliers of barley, corn, and wheat, according to European Union data.
↑10 After months of negotiations, in early February the US Congress approved a nearly $23 billion sale to Turkey of 40 new Lockheed Martin F-16 Block 70s and almost 80 modernization kits for its existing fleet. The deal came shortly after the Turkish Parliament approved Sweden’s NATO membership. Turkey needs these aircraft to offset its expulsion from the international consortium that builds the F-35 fighter, a punishment that came due to Ankara’s 2019 purchase of Russian-made S400 surface-to-air missiles.
↑11 The YouGov survey “show[s] that 38 percent of under-40s say they would refuse to serve in the armed forces in the event of a new world war, and 30 percent say they would not serve even if Britain was facing imminent invasion. The 18-40 age range is similar to that which the British government initially used for conscription in both the first and second world wars. One in fourteen (7 percent) say they would volunteer for the armed forces if a world war broke out, rising to 11 percent in the event that the British mainland itself was under threat. Others say that although they would not serve, they would not resist conscription if the time came — 21 percent in the case of a world war, and 23 percent in the specific case that Britain faces invasion.”


Juan Chingo
Juan is an editor of our French sister site Révolution Permanente.

Three Axes of Socialist Internationalism Today: Against Genocide, Militarism, and Imperialist Plunder

Trotskyist Fraction – Fourth International October 27, 2024

From the Trotskyist Fraction — Fourth International, we are undertaking three political campaigns that we consider central to internationalist and anti-imperialist struggle today.

The following is a contribution to the debates for the recent conference of the Trotskyist Fraction — Fourth International, which publishes the International Network of La Izquierda Diario. It was published on March 24, 2024.

***

Today’s world is marked by multiple crises and abrupt changes. The capitalist triumphalism and the illusions in a “harmonious globalization” that marked the neoliberal boom period are over. The capitalist crisis of 2008 opened the way for trends towards organic crises in different countries, crisis of the “extreme center” parties, political polarization, new cycles of class struggle, and neo-reformism. We also see the growth of the extreme Right, both in the periphery — Milei in Argentina and Bukele in El Salvador, for example — and in the capitalist centers — the strengthening of Trump in the U.S. and the electoral growth of extreme right-wing parties with racist and xenophobic discourses in Europe.

Capitalism has only more suffering and misery to offer the working class and oppressed peoples around the world. While a handful of billionaires amass immeasurable fortunes, more than a billion people survive on less than a dollar a day. The capitalists have transformed the world into an uninhabitable place for the majority of humanity, and even threaten to destroy the planet. Since the beginning of the war in Ukraine two years ago, and now with the genocide in Palestine, war and militarism have reappeared in the limelight. Within the framework of the beginning of an increasingly open questioning, even in the military field, of the world order commanded by the U.S., a new stage is opening. This stage is characterized by the reactivation of the more general tendencies of the imperialist epoch, defined by Lenin as one of crisis, wars, and revolutions.

From the Trotskyist Fraction — Fourth International we fight to build a world party of socialist revolution — the reconstruction of the Fourth International — because there is no other progressive solution to the catastrophe toward which capitalism is dragging us. We are an international current, with organizations in 14 countries across Latin America, Europe and the U.S., and we promote the International Network of Newspapers — La Izquierda Diario, which currently has 15 newspapers in 7 languages.

In this statement, we put forward three political campaigns that we consider key to internationalist and anti-imperialist struggle today. We extend this proposal to all organizations, militants, and individuals who share this perspective, to fight for blocs and coalitions in different countries that can express a socialist and class-independent viewpoint in the face of the most pressing challenges of the moment.
Stop the Israeli genocide and military intervention against the Palestinian people! For the right to resistance and national self-determination of the Palestinian people!

The genocide perpetrated by the Zionist state of Israel against the Palestinians in the Gaza Strip is the most heinous symbol of imperialist oppression of our time. More than 32,000 Palestinians have been killed in Gaza, 13,000 of them children. In the West Bank, the Zionist army has killed hundreds of Palestinians in the last two months alone. Eighty-five percent of Gaza’s population has been displaced from their homes by the bombardment, with 1.3 million Palestinians crowded into the border town of Rafah. International organizations such as Human Rights Watch and Oxfam state that Israel is using starvation as a tactic of war, destroying Gaza’s agricultural and food distribution systems. Blocking access to vital resources, such as electricity, fuel, and food is accompanied by bombarding civilians awaiting the entry of scarce humanitarian aid. This veritable campaign of extermination against the Palestinians and the eradication of Gaza is yet another chapter in the long process of ethnic cleansing that began in 1948, the root of which is the colonial and racist character of the State of Israel, the vanguard of today’s global counterrevolution. As part of the anti-imperialist struggle of the oppressed peoples of the world, it is urgent to mobilize: Stop the genocide of the Palestinian people by the racist colonialism of Israel!

Benjamin Netanyahu has powerful accomplices in carrying out genocide against the Palestinians. In the U.S., the Biden administration has financed and given diplomatic cover to the Zionist regime, in a policy shared by both the Democratic and Republican establishment. In Europe, the imperialist governments of Olaf Scholz in Germany, Emmanuel Macron in France, Rishi Sunak in England, and Pedro Sanchez in Spain justify Israel’s offensive. Behind their cynical calls for a ceasefire, these powers not only persecute the young students and workers who demonstrate in the streets in defense of the Palestinian people, but continue to sell the weapons used by the Netanyahu government in the massacre. According to the UN itself, the U.S. and Germany are the main suppliers of arms to Israel, followed by France, England, Canada, and Australia. We are facing the fusion of Israel’s colonial and genocidal violence with state-of-the-art heavy weaponry.

This armed assistance from the imperialist powers has brought the Middle East to the brink of a regional war. Virtually all of Iran’s allies in the so-called “Axis of Resistance” have already engaged in military action on different scales: Hezbollah in Lebanon and militias linked to the Iranian regime in Syria, Iraq, and Jordan. The Houthis have been using drones to intercept and attack commercial vessels with links to Israel or its allies in the Red Sea; in response, the U.S. and Britain have bombed Yemen. The State of Israel’s brutal attack against the Palestinian people could ultimately lead to a war between the U.S. and Iran. After the devastation caused in Iraq and Afghanistan by the U.S. military occupation, the Middle East is once again under siege by the imperialist powers.

While we do not share Hamas’ methods or strategy, its actions have brought the historic struggle of the Palestinian people against the oppression of the State of Israel back into the world spotlight. For seven decades, the Zionists have been building — with the help of Western imperialism and post-World War II Stalinism — an extremely racist social apartheid regime. Settler colonialism is a type of domination that depends on the continuous occupation of the oppressed territory, the super-exploitation of indigenous labor power, and the dehumanization of the population subjected to a permanent state of terror. For this reason alone the “two-state” policy has proven to be a false promise, since the existence of an independent Palestinian state is unfeasible within the framework of the architecture of imperialist domination in the Middle East.

The brutality of the genocide has unleashed an enormous anti-war movement in the imperialist countries, the likes of which have not been seen since the mobilizations against the Iraq War or the Vietnam War in the 1970s. Mass demonstrations have occurred in the main capitals of the West, such as New York City, Washington, London, Paris, Madrid, and Berlin, in which hundreds of thousands of people have participated. In many universities such as Harvard, Oxford, and others, there have been actions of support, questioning the pacts of the academic authorities with companies that finance the State of Israel. Some militant unions or platforms of workers in support of Palestine in various countries have carried out “blockade” actions against companies that sell arms to Israel. These actions, while still isolated, show the potential that the working class has if the unions take up this struggle in a decisive way to stop the genocide.

In several countries, important sectors of the Jewish population have also mobilized to reject Zionist policies. In the Middle East, millions of people defied complicit regional governments and took to the streets in Iraq, Syria, Yemen, Egypt, Saudi Arabia, and Lebanon to repudiate the genocide and defend the Palestinian people. This is a huge fulcrum for an anti-imperialist and anti-colonialist politics in the current stage of exhaustion of the neoliberal cycle, which can galvanize a new class consciousness to oppose capitalist barbarism and fight to reorganize society on new foundations.

The organizations that make up the Trotskyist Fraction — Fourth International are part and promoters of these mobilizations in all our countries and at the international level. As we say in our declaration of the Trotskyist Fraction, it is necessary to promote a great international campaign of solidarity with the Palestinian people, to organize the struggle among the oppressed peoples of the world to put an end to this genocide and confront imperialism, and to promote working class intervention with its own methods of struggle, through strikes and blockades, against the shipment of arms and the imperialist companies that support the Zionist State of Israel. In particular, we consider it key to multiply the efforts in the imperialist countries that have played key roles in sustaining the genocide in Palestine. The youth who are taking to the streets and organizing in schools, universities, and workplaces are not only key to the struggle against genocide and for the liberation of Palestine, but also to continue developing an anti-imperialist movement that puts the brakes on the rearmament of the world powers and the growing tendencies towards military conflicts. Faced with the failure of the “two state” policy and the new offensive of the ultra-Right, a massive struggle of all the Palestinian people is necessary, together with the entire Arab working class of the region, and the Jewish working class in Israel who have broken from Zionism. It is also key that an alliance is built between the workers, youth, and women who have engaged in struggle in the Middle East, like the Iranian youth, against the gendarme state of Israel and imperialism. To end the apartheid regime, it is necessary to dismantle the Zionist State of Israel. Against Zionist colonialism and imperialism, we stand unconditionally with the resistance of the Palestinian people, with a program of political independence from all the bourgeois sectors in the region.

We defend the right to national self-determination of the Palestinian people and fight for a workers’ and socialist Palestine, within the framework of a socialist federation in the Middle East. Only a state that aims to put an end to all oppression, exploitation, and imperialist reaction will be able to guarantee the territorial recovery of historic Palestine, the right of return of the Palestinian refugees, and a democratic and peaceful coexistence between Arab and Jewish people. The Arab bourgeois nationalisms of yesterday and today have shown their incapacity to carry out these tasks. The Arab bourgeoisies and monarchies, which exploit and oppress their peoples, are not allies for the liberation of the Palestinian people. Liberation is a task that will have to be undertaken by the working class and the peoples of the entire region. The unity of the Palestinian masses and the Arab masses whose governments have normalized relations with the Zionist state or those who are preparing to do so is key on this road.

Stop the genocide of the Palestinian people! Down with the Israeli military intervention and the financial and military aid of U.S. and European imperialism! Break all political and military agreements with Israel. For a major international campaign in defense of the Palestinian people and their right to self-determination. For a workers’ and socialist Palestine!
Against imperialist militarism and the militarization of borders

Within the context of the breakdown of the U.S.-led “(neo)liberal order” that has governed post-Cold War geopolitics, loud drums of war are resounding in the world. The brutal genocide in Palestine occurs alongside the war in Ukraine, which has been raging for more than two years now. Trends toward greater military clashes are also emerging in regional conflicts that are taking on global dimensions. The U.S. and UK responded to Houthi militia attacks on ships in the Red Sea by carrying out bombing raids in Yemen. And while a leap towards open warfare in the Middle East cannot be ruled out, a third front threatens to open up in Asia, where the conflict between China and Taiwan is heading for a major collision.

The war in Ukraine has so far left hundreds of thousands of people dead and wounded, and millions of people have been displaced or become refugees. This is the first major war on European soil since the end of World War II. Russia’s reactionary invasion of Ukraine was the greatest challenge to the world order and to the crisis of American hegemony of the last 30 years. NATO powers intervened in the war through financial and military support to Zelenskyy. According to Ukraine Support Tracker sources, the U.S. has so far provided more than $37 billion in direct aid, and the EU has pledged more than 144 billion euros in aid. From a military point of view, the war has been stalled for months, and has become a “black hole” for Western aid. In this framework, the Trumpist sector in the U.S. Congress has blocked the new aid package to Ukraine. A possible Trump presidency would mean leaving the EU in charge of support for the Ukrainian army and post-war financing.

The groups that make up the Trotskyist Fraction have maintained a position of class independence in the face of this reactionary war, in which both Putin and Zelenskyy, subordinated to NATO, seek to subjugate Ukraine according to their geostrategic interests. We raise the need for an international movement against the war, for the immediate withdrawal of Russian troops from Ukraine, and against NATO’s military interventionism in Eastern Europe and imperialist rearmament. With this independent position to confront the Russian occupation and imperialist domination, we have participated in mobilizations and actions against the war, especially in Europe and the U.S. We have also proposed the formation of blocs and unitary platforms to fight for this perspective, appealing to the international unity of the working class.

In recent months, heads of state and ministers of the imperialist powers have been increasingly raising the specter of war, including the danger of nuclear war. They call on populations to make “sacrifices” today to prepare for the wars of tomorrow. In the new global scenario, the world powers are increasing their defense spending and preparing a new war industry. In 2022, with the increased budgets of NATO countries, global military spending reached a record $2.2 trillion — a figure that has continued to grow since then. The arms and military equipment companies with the highest sales in the world are the American companies Lockheed Martin, Raytheon Technologies, Boeing, and Northrop Grumman. They are followed in the ranking by Chinese, British, French, and German companies. While geopolitical tensions combine with the risk of economic recession in several countries, one of the ways out of this recession that capitalism proposes is to develop a war economy that allows for the expansion of public spending and increase in demand in arms-producing countries. These nations are preparing for major geopolitical and military clashes. They are also preparing for a more open dispute for resources and zones of influence, at the expense of the oppressed peoples, which will transform the world into a scenario of new wars and plundering.

The other face of this militarist offensive is the reactionary nationalist discourse, the militarization of borders, and the hardening of repressive policies against migrants — the very people forced to leave their homes as a result of the plundering of their own countries by imperialist wars and occupations. In other words, the same imperialism that provokes displacements then, internally, attacks the migrants fleeing the disaster. As the Far Right grows in several countries — such as the strengthening of Trump towards the U.S. presidential elections, or Alternative for Germany (AfD) — the “Far Center” parties are adopting much of the far-right racist agenda, including anti-immigration laws, “express” deportations, and the construction of new internment centers for undocumented foreigners. In this breeding ground, racist discourses against migrant populations — who constitute a large part of the most precarious working class — are growing. Migrants are accused of using up public funds (to justify the lack of funds for education or health care), violence against women, drug trafficking in neighborhoods, and more. These reactionary policies are also sustained thanks to the role of the trade union bureaucracies, which defend corporatist positions. They refuse to fight for a program that unifies the working class in order to overcome divisions between permanent and contract workers, gender division, and racism.

In some countries, this reactionary offensive against migrants is being met with pushback. France was the scene of an impressive demonstration of more than 150,000 people in January 2024 against the Immigration Law. In Germany, in the same month, important mobilizations took place against the AfD and anti-immigration policies. In many countries, there are vanguard sectors in mobilizations that defend the idea that “native or foreigner, we are the same working class.”

To fight against militarism and the reactionary nationalism of the imperialist powers, it is urgent to fight for the union of the workers of the entire world — together with the oppressed — against imperialism. In the imperialist countries, we take up the banners of internationalists like Rosa Luxemburg, Lenin, and Trotsky who said, “No to war, the enemy is at home!”

We seek to develop, in unity with the workers and peoples of the colonial and semi colonial countries, a true proletarian internationalism.

At the same time, we warn against the deception of those who propose false alternatives to achieve a supposed “multilateralism” in the world order. Some place illusions in the “regulatory” role of international institutions such as the UN (which has once again shown its resounding failure to prevent the genocide in Palestine), while others subordinate themselves to the imperial aspirations of reactionary powers such as Russia or China. The proposals of European reformists like La France Insoumise or Podemos — who defend a “democratic Europe of the peoples” against warmongering tendencies — are also reactionary pacifist utopias. Europe has in its history the largest number of genocides and massacres against the colonial peoples of the world, in addition to two world wars. Militarism and wars are direct children of capitalism and imperialism, in Europe and all over the world.

The third aspect is the development of a spiral of violence and poverty as a consequence of the application of neoliberal plans and odious foreign debts in Latin America. Members of the police and military corps trained at the School of the Americas — where those who carried out coups d’état orchestrated in Washington were trained — were later counted among the founders of drug trafficking “cartels.” Imperialism’s response was to impose, through local governments, internal security policies involving the financing and training of military corporations, the sale and trafficking of arms, and the participation of the armed forces in “public security” tasks.

This led to militarization, which, together with state, para-state, and narco violence, are mechanisms of social control and pave the way for a new period of plundering of natural resources in the region, along with forced displacement of communities, disappearances, executions, and femicides. This is what happened with Plan Colombia and with the Merida Initiative — in Mexico and Central America, these have been converted into the Bicentennial Framework — at the bilateral level between Mexico and the U.S. This is also the case in El Salvador, with the right-wing Nayib Bukele, who decreed a state of emergency, inaugurated mega-prisons, and is moving forward with the criminalization of poverty. This is a model copied by Daniel Noboa, president of Ecuador, and Xiomara Castro, president of Honduras. Ultra-right Argentinian president Javier Milei also intends to impose this model by giving “free rein to the police” in poor neighborhoods and sending the military to areas where strong drug trafficking networks operate. But this model is not limited to right-wing governments. In Chile, the government of Gabriel Boric also proposes the use of the military for public security, reviving proposals such as the “Critical Infrastructure Law,” which was used by conservative sectors against the working class. These sectors sought to strengthen the repressive apparatus in order to prevent new popular rebellions in the continent. In Venezuela, the regime that expresses the decadence and degeneration of the false “socialism” of Chavism, took advantage of the different reactionary attempts promoted by imperialism to militarize to the extreme the management and logic of “citizen security.” This militarization has risen to such a point that the armed intervention of the State is responsible for a third of the homicides in the country. Haiti is living in social chaos with the advance of criminal gangs promoted by the puppet government and the U.S., and will now face a new military-police intervention of a securitarian nature. At the same time, a sector of the Republican Party is fighting to designate drug trafficking as terrorism in order to pave the way for direct military interference.

Faced with this situation, a solution in favor of the working classes and the popular sectors is to break the subordination of Latin America to the designs of U.S. imperialism and international organizations. It is necessary to put a stop to militarization, and the budgets assigned to these repressive forces must be allocated to health and education. Only the working class and the popular sectors can guarantee the security of communities and cities, because they have no common interests with organized crime, the military, or the police.

We must confront the whole reactionary campaign of the world powers to make us accept their militaristic arms race. New generations do not have to be sacrificed on the altar of capitalist military catastrophes for the sake of profits; however, that may be the future if we do not fight back with all possible force. Throughout the world, the international clashes and antagonisms between the capitalist states are the complement of class antagonisms, alongside militarization and criminalization of the poor, oppressed people and migrants, and can only be overcome from an internationalist and socialist point of view.No to war and imperialist militarism! Not one euro, not one dollar more to finance arms shipments. No Putin, no NATO! For an independent position in the war in Ukraine.
Stop militarization of the borders! Immediate regularization of all migrants. For the international unity of the working class of all countries, against imperialism.
For the cancellation of the foreign debts of the oppressed countries. Enough of imperialist plunder!

Global debt has been breaking historical records. Since the financial crisis of 2007-2008, it has continued to increase, with the so-called “emerging countries” experiencing the greatest debt growth. Their debt rose from 10% of the world total before the crisis to 25% in 2019, and a new leap occurred during the pandemic. In 2021, global debt, as reported by the IMF, reached $303 trillion. Studies calculate that in the period since 2000 alone, the net financial transfers from the so-called “emerging and developing countries” to the imperialist countries represented, on average, more than 8% of the annual GDP of the affected countries.

The history of sovereign debt is one of plundering for the benefit of financial centers. All nations issue debt to support the development of the State, and debt crises occur everywhere. But what characterizes dependent economies is that a significant portion of public debt (historically the overwhelming majority) is external debt (i.e. with foreign creditors) and in international reserve currency (dollar, euro, yen). This differentiates them from rich economies with significant external debt that accumulates liabilities in their own currency. The paradigmatic case is the United States, a power par excellence that uses this mechanism of indebtedness to capture wealth worldwide thanks to the dominance of the dollar.

In dependent countries, the flow is the opposite. Due to their weak economic structure and the heavy influence of foreign capital within it, money capital circulates internationally as a privileged source of financing. External debt not only finances the treasury but also compensates for deficits in foreign currency caused by a trade imbalance, or the outflow of remittances by foreign companies or the local bourgeoisie. This creates a new drainage linked to debt services, making these attempts ultimately unsustainable. The debt, which generates extraordinary profits for financial capital, translates into attacks on the living conditions of the working people in oppressed countries: brutal adjustment plans, impoverishment, budget cuts in public services, privatizations, and so on. This is the story of a large number of oppressed countries in Latin America, Africa, and Asia.

External public debt securities are a means by which the great financial centers obtain an influx of wealth from the oppressed countries to the imperialist countries. For the imperialist economies, this debt generates, together with the rents obtained by transnational corporations, important flows of wealth. The cycles of external indebtedness in the dependent economies arise from the decision of governments as much as from the need of global capital to dump its liquidity and guarantee itself good business by charging high rates. The massive quantitative easing during the 2008 crisis meant a huge flow of U.S. dollars to the dependent economies. Debt issuance, as well as restructuring after each crisis, opens up an opportunity to big business for international finance capital in association with local intermediaries.

These are debts that fit the broad jurisprudence which uses the concept of “odious debt.” That is to say, these debts are taken by governments or regimes against the will of the people, and this situation is known in advance by the creditors. These debts trample on the “popular sovereignty” of these peoples at will: while they vote for rulers every so many years, the real decisions are taken in the imperialist countries, in the offices of creditor organizations and governments, with the local bourgeoisies as partners, conditioning and imposing the economic decisions that affect the lives of millions. This gives rise to political regimes which are nominally “sovereign,” but in reality, are subject to the tutelage of international finance capital.

For the imperialist powers, foreign debt and crises are vehicles for aggressively pushing the agenda of transnational capital. Creditors present a unified front. The IMF acts as a kind of collective creditor. In this, there are no differences between the U.S. and China. China, far from being a “benign power,” enforces IMF policy: “bailout” loans act to impose the discipline of capital; “structural adjustment” plans strive for the opening up of the economy, financial liberalization and capital exports, privatizations, flexibilization of the labor force, and enabling large-scale plundering of natural resources.

Under this umbrella, the imperialist multinationals have made progress in appropriating public utilities, transportation and energy companies, as well as the natural resources and even extraterritorial assets of the debtor countries. Examples abound. The Spanish multinational Telefónica, with its holding company Telefónica Latinoamérica, has monopolized a large part of the telecommunications services in the region. In the case of China, its loans are linked to political agreements that facilitate the entry of its companies to exploit natural resources in Latin America and Africa. This is one of the major mechanisms for plundering oppressed countries. In Africa, international organizations such as the IMF own about 35% of the debt, China owns 20%, and private entities — including banks, commodity trading companies, and investment funds — own another third. During the COVID-19 pandemic, the IMF opened new debt programs for African countries. These programs include austerity measures, taxes on food and fuel, and cuts in public spending. Currently, 60% of African countries spend more on debt repayment than on healthcare. Fourteen African countries — all former French colonies — still use the CFA franc as their currency, which France takes advantage of to plunder their resources. Multinationals established in Africa, Asia, and Latin America also take advantage of cheaper labor and the benefits of “environmental dumping” by producing in countries with less environmental regulation or for extractivist activities.

The ruling classes and their political regimes in the debtor countries are fully adapted to this customary mechanism of plundering — they actively participate in it. Often, these debts also function to subsidize the profits of local capital and leverage cycles of capital flight, signifying enormous transfers of public resources to the local bourgeoisies, which move abroad — to the imperialist countries, once again — considerable portions of the potential “national savings.” These are debts against the peoples in which the bourgeoisies of the imperialist countries and the bourgeoisies of the debtor countries join hands, although the latter are a sort of “voluntary hostage” in the situation.

Today, Argentina has become a laboratory for the application of IMF plans, which only benefit financial capital, multinationals, and the richest capitalists in the country. Poverty rates have reached nearly 60%. Wages have lost 25% of their purchasing power in only three months. Utility bills have already increased and will soon be prohibitively high, while the cuts to public services such as healthcare and education continue. Milei wants to deepen the adjustment with layoffs, privatizations, and labor reforms — a war plan against the working people. He aims to continue paying Argentina’s national debt with the hunger of the people. Since he took office, however, resistance has begun to organize. Neighborhood assemblies arose where sectors of workers and students are democratically organized. The union bureaucracy was forced to call a national strike on January 24th. The repressive protocol has been challenged several times in the streets, and already had a first defeat with the fall of its Omnibus Law, which was repudiated after three days of combative demonstrations. On March 8th, important women’s mobilizations all over the country made clear that they will not back down on the rights they have won. Different sectors of workers are facing attempts of closures or layoffs. There are tendencies towards struggle and organization from below, which clash with the passivity and divisions imposed by the union bureaucracies and Peronism. In the Trotskyist Fraction, in all nations where we have groups, we have organized actions of solidarity with the Argentine people. We have participated in united platforms with Argentines living abroad and with sectors of the political and trade union left. We support the struggle of our comrades of the Party of Socialist Workers (PTS) to develop the independent mobilization of the working class, women, and youth, against Milei and the plundering economic power. We defend the broadest united front of the working and oppressed masses to defeat Milei and his adjustments.

It is necessary to cut the transmission belts of the debt discipline and put an end to the imperialist plunder supported by all the capitalist governments. We need to develop the broadest mobilization for:Abolition of the external public debts on the oppressed countries by the imperialist states and international finance capital! Sovereign recognition of the same in the dependent countries!
Down with the IMF and all the global financial institutions at the service of international finance capital! Expropriate the imperialist companies that plunder the economic and natural resources in the oppressed countries without compensation and place them under workers’ control!
For socialist internationalism

In the Trotskyist Fraction — Fourth International, we consider it urgent to put all possible forces toward the development of a great internationalist and anti-imperialist movement, which we consider today to be concentrated in the campaigns we have proposed.

For this, it is key to fight in our places of work and study, in unions and social movements, against the pacifying and divisive influence of the different bureaucracies that collaborate with the capitalist governments. In all the countries where we are active, with all of our strength, we intend to promote the tendencies towards self-organization and coordination of grassroots struggles.

As we wrote in the beginning, through this declaration, we want to extend the proposal to carry forward these internationalist campaigns to all organizations, militants, and individuals who share these perspectives. We seek to develop blocs and coalitions in different countries that can express a class independent and socialist point of view.

We are fighting this fight as part of the struggle to build revolutionary vanguard parties and a world party of socialist revolution, which, for us, implies the refoundation of the Fourth International on a revolutionary basis. This is the great challenge ahead of us in the face of an imperialist capitalism that seeks to plunge us ever deeper into barbarism.

Translation by Charlotte White

Trotskyist Fraction – Fourth International
The Fracción Trotskista—Cuarta Internacional (FT-CI) / Trotskyist Fraction—Fourth International (TF-FI) is an international tendency of revolutionary organizations.