the Work Force, Violence, and Dictatorship in the Class Struggle
By Amadeo Bordiga
I. Actual and Potential Violence
In the history of social aggregates we recognise the
use of material force and violence in an overt form
whenever we observe conflicts and clashes among
individuals and among groups which result, through many
different forms, in the material injury and destruction
of physical individuals.
Whenever this aspect comes to the surface in the course
of social history, it is received by the most varied
reactions of abomination or of exaltation which in turn
furnish the most banal foundations of the various
successive mystical doctrines that fill and encumber the
thought of the collectivities.
Even the most opposing conceptions are in agreement
that violence among humans is not only an essential
element of social energetics but also an integral factor,
if not always a decisive one, of all the transformations
of historical forms.
In order to avoid falling into rhetoric and metaphysics
-- such as those numerous confessions and philosophies
which oscillate between either the apriorisms of the
worship of force, of the "superman" or of the superior
people, or else the apriorisms of resignation, non-
resistance and pacifism -- it is necessary to go back to
the basis of that material relationship, physical
violence. It is necessary to recognise its fundamental
role in all forms of social organisation even when it
acts only in its latent state, that is through pressure,
threat and armed preparation which produce the most
widespread historical effects even before there has been
bloodshed, after it, or without it.
* * *
The beginning of the modern age, which is socially
characterised by the gigantic development of productive
techniques and the capitalist economy, was accompanied by
a fundamental conquest of scientific knowledge of the
physical universe that is bound to the names of Galileo
and Newton.
It became clear that two fields of phenomena which
Aristotelian and scholastic physics had held as
absolutely separate and even metaphysically opposite --
the field of terrestrial mechanics and the field of
celestial mechanics -- were in reality one and the same
and had to be investigated and represented with the same
theoretical scheme.
In other words it was understood for the first time
that the force which a body exerts on the ground on which
it rests, or on our hand which supports it, not only is
the same force which puts the body in motion when it is
left free to fall but it is also the same force which
governs the movements of the planets in space, their
revolutions in apparently immutable orbits, and their
possible collisions with each other.
It was not a question of a merely qualitative and
philosophical identity but of a scientific and practical
one, since the same kind of measurement could establish
the dimensions of the fly-wheel of a machine and
determine, for instance, the weight and the velocity of
the moon.
The great conquests of knowledge -- as could be shown by
a study of gnoseology conducted with the Marxist method --
do not consist in establishing new eternal and
irrevocable truths by means of revealing discoveries,
since the road always remains open to further
developments and to richer scientific and mathematical
representations of the phenomena of a given field.
Instead, they consist essentially in definitively
breaking down the premises of ancient errors, including
the blinding force of tradition which prevented our
knowledge from reaching a representation of the real
relationships of things.
In fact, even in the field of mechanics science has and
will make discoveries which go beyond the limits of
Galileo's and Newton's laws and formulas. But the
historical fact remains that they demolished the obstacle
of the Aristotelian conception according to which an
ideal sphere, concentric to the earth, separated two
incompatible worlds -- the earthly world of ours, that of
corruption and wretched mortal life, and the celestial
world of incorruptibility and of the icy, splendid
immutability. This conception was profitably utilised by
the ethical and mystical constructions of christianity
and was perfectly adaptable as a social parallel of the
relationships in a human world based on the privileges of
aristocracies.
The identification of the field of mechanical facts
revealed by our immediate experience with the field of
cosmic facts allowed for it to be simultaneously
established that the energy a body possesses is identical
in substance whether its movement with respect to us and
its immediate surroundings is empirically evident or
whether this body itself is apparently at rest.
The two concepts of potential energy (energy with
respect to position or positional energy) and of kinetic
energy (the energy of motion) when applied to material
bodies will be and have already been subjected to more
and more complex interpretations. These interpretations
will lead to the point where the quantities of matter and
energy which appeared invariable in the formulations of
the classical physics texts (and which are still adequate
to calculate and construct structures on the human scale
that utilise non-atomic forms of energy) will prove to be
transmutable through an incessant exchange whose radius
of action extends to the entire cosmos.
However, it still remains that the recognition of the
identity in their action between the potential reserves
and the kinetic manifestations of energy was a
historically decisive step in the formation of scientific
knowledge.
This scientific concept has become familiar to everyone
living in the modern world. Water contained in an
elevated tank is still and appears motionless and
lifeless. Let us open the valves of the pipeline with a
turbine situated below and the turbine will be set in
motion yielding us motive power. The amount of available
power was already known before we opened the valve since
it depends on the mass of the water and on its height:
that is to say it is positional energy.
When the water flows and moves, the same energy
manifests itself as motion, i.e. as kinetic energy.
By the same token, any child of today knows that if we
do not touch the two still, cold wires of an electric
circuit, no exchange will take place between them; but if
we introduce a conductor, sparks, heat and light are
emitted with violent effects on muscles and nerves if the
conductor is our body.
The two harmless wires had a certain potential, but woe
to whomever transforms this energy into a kinetic state.
Today all this is known even by the illiterate but it
would have greatly baffled the seven sages of ancient
Greece and the doctors of the church.
* * *
Let us now pass from the field of mechanics to that of
organic life. Among the much more complex manifestations
and transformations of biophysics and biochemistry which
govern the birth, nourishment, growth, motion and
reproduction of animals, we find the use of muscular
power in the struggle against the physical environment as
well as against other living beings of the same or of
different species.
In these material contacts and in these brutal clashes
the parts and the tissues of the animals are hurt and
lacerated and in the cases of the most serious injuries,
the animal dies.
The intervention of the factor of violence is commonly
recognised only when an injury to an organism results
from the use of muscular power by one animal against
another. We do not see violence, in common language, when
a landslide or a hurricane kills animals but only when
the classic wolf devours the lamb or comes to blows with
another wolf which claims a share of it.
Gradually the common interpretation of these facts
slips down into the deceitful field of ethical and
mystical constructions. One hates the wolf but one weeps
for the lamb. Later on man will legitimise without
question the killing of the same lamb for his meal but
will scream with horror against cannibals; murderers will
be condemned but warriors will be exalted. All these
cases of the cutting and tearing of living flesh can be
found in an infinite gamut of tones which furnish the
prolific soil for endless literary variations. Among them
we also could include -- to give an ethical problem to
those who would judge our actions -- the incision of the
surgical knife on the cancerous tumour.
The early human representations, with the inadequacy
which characterised them, investigated the phenomena of
mechanical nature and, due to an infantile
anthropomorphism, applied moral criteria to these
phenomena.
Earth returned to the earth, water returned to the sea
and air and fire rose because each element sought its own
element, its natural position, and shunned its opposites,
since love and hatred were the moving forces of things.
If water or mercury did not drop down in the overturned
vessel it was because nature abhorred a vacuum. After
Torricelli had carried out a barometric vacuum, it became
possible to measure the weight of the air, which also is
a heavy body and tends downwards with such violence that
it would crush us to the ground if we were not surrounded
and penetrated all over by it. Air therefore does love
its opposites after all and should be condemned for an
adulterous violation of its duties.
In every field, to one extent or another, voluntarism
and ethicism lead man to believe in the same stupidities.
Going back to the violent struggle of the animal
against adversities or to the struggle for the
satisfaction of his needs through the use of his muscular
strength (and leaving aside the bourgeois Darwinian
discourse on the struggle for survival, natural selection
and similar refrains) we shall point out that here too
the same motives and effects of the use of force can
present themselves as potential or virtual on one side,
and as kinetic or actual on the other.
The animal who has experienced the dangers of fire, ice
and flood will learn that instead of confronting them it
is best to flee as soon as he perceives the danger signs.
In the same way violence between two living beings can
exercise its effects in many cases without being
physically manifested.
The wild dog will never contend with the lion for the
killed roe-buck since he knows that he would follow the
same destiny as the victim. Many times the prey succumbs
from terror before being actually seized by the
carnivore; sometimes a glance is enough to immobilise it
and deprive it not only of the possibility of struggle
but also of flight itself.
In all these cases the supremacy of force has a
potential effect without need of being materially carried
out.
If our ethical judge should pass sentence on the
matter, we doubt that he would acquit the carnivore on
the sole ground that his prey had freely chosen to be
devoured.
* * *
In the primitive human aggregates the network of the
relationships among individuals grows and extends itself
progressively. The greater variety of needs and of the
means to satisfy them, in addition to the possibility of
communication between one being and another due to the
differentiations of language, all give rise to a sphere
of relationships and influences which in the animal world
were only roughly outlined.
Even before it is possible to speak of a true
production of objects of use that can be employed for the
satisfaction of the needs and necessities of human life,
a division of functions and of aptitudes to carry them
out is established among the members of the first groups,
who devote themselves to the tasks of harvesting wild
vegetables, of hunting, of fishing and of the first
rudimentary activity in the construction and conservation
of shelters and in the preparation of food.
An organised society begins to form itself and with it
arises the principle of order and authority. The
individuals who have a superior physical strength and
nervous energy no longer resort only to muscular strength
to impose fixed limits on others in the use of their time
and their labour and in the enjoyment of the useful goods
that have been acquired. Rules begin to be established to
which the community adapts itself. Respect of these rules
is imposed without the needs of using physical coercion
every time; it suffices to threaten the would-be
transgressor with fierce punishment and in extreme cases
with death.
The individual who, driven by his primitive animality,
might want to elude such impositions must either engage
in a hand-to-hand combat with the leader (and probably
also with the other members of the collectivity who would
be ordered to back their leader in exercising the
punishment) or else the individual must flee from the
collectivity. But in this last case he would be compelled
to satisfy his material needs less abundantly and with
more risks since he would be deprived of the advantages
of organised collective activity, however primitive it
might be.
The human animal begins to trace his evolutionary
cycle, a cycle which certainly is neither uniform and
continuous nor without crises and reversals but which, in
a general sense, is unrestrainable. From his original
condition of unlimited personal freedom, of total
autonomy of the single individual, he becomes more and
more subjected to an increasingly dense network of bonds
which takes the features and the names of order,
authority, and law.
The general trend of this evolution is the lessening of
the frequency of cases in which violence among men is
consumed in its kinetic form, i.e. with struggle,
corporal punishment and execution. But, at the same time,
the cases in which authoritarian orders are executed
without resistance become doubly more frequent, since
those whom the orders are addressed to know by experience
that it would not pay to elude these dictates.
A simplistic schematisation and idealisation of such a
process leads to an abstract conception of society which
sees only two entities, the individual and the
collectivity, and arbitrarily assumes that all the
relationships of each individual to the organised
collectivity are equivalent (such as in the illusory
perspective of the "Social Contract"). This theory
postulates the ongoing march of the human collectivity as
being conducted either by an obliging god who leads the
drama towards a happy ending or else by a redeeming
inspiration, more mysterious still, which is placed who
knows how in each person's mind and is immanent to his
way of thinking, feeling, and behaving. It is presented
as a march which leads to a idyllic equilibrium in which
an egalitarian order allows everybody to enjoy the
benefits of the common work, while the decisions of each
individual are free and freely willed.
Dialectical materialism on the contrary, scientifically
sets into relief the importance of the factor of force
and its influence not only when it is overtly manifested,
such as in wars among peoples and classes, but also when
it is applied in a potential state by means of the
functioning of the machinery of authority, of law, of
constituted order and of armed power. It explains that
the origin and the extension of the use of force springs
from the relationships in which individuals are placed as
a result of the striving and the possibility to satisfy
their needs.
If we analyse the ways and means by which human
aggregates since prehistory have procured their means of
subsistence, as well as the first rudimentary devices,
arms and tools that extend the reach of the limb of
animal man to act over external bodies, we will be led to
the discovery of an extremely rich variety of
relationships and intermediate positions between the
individual and the totality of the collectivity which are
the basis of a division of this collectivity into many
diverse groups, according to attributions, functions and
satisfactions. This investigation furnishes us the key to
the problem of force.
The essential element of that which is commonly called
civilisation is this: the stronger individual consumes
more than the weaker one (and up until this point we
remain within the field of the relationships of animal
life and, if we want, we can also add here that so-called
"nature", which bourgeois theories conceive of as a
clever supervisor, provided for the fact that more
muscles means more stomach and more food); but the
stronger also arranges things in such a way that the
major share of the workload falls on the weaker one. If
the weaker refuses to grant the richest meal and the
easiest job (or no job at all) to the stronger, then
muscular superiority subdues him and inflicts on him the
third humiliation of being struck.
The distinctive element of civilisation, as we said, is
that this simple relationship explained above is
materialised innumerable times in all the acts of social
life with no need to use coercive force in its actual,
kinetic form.
The division of men into groups which are so dissimilar
in their material situation of life has its basis
initially in a distribution of tasks. It is this which,
in a great complexity of manifestations, assures the
privileged individual, family, group, or class a
recognition of its position. This recognition, which has
its origins in a real consideration of the initial
utility of the privileged elements, leads to the
formation of an attitude of submission among the
victimised elements and groups. This attitude is handed
down in time and becomes part of tradition since social
forms have an inertia which is analogous to that of the
physical world; due to this inertia these social forms
tend to trace the same orbits and to perpetuate the same
relationships if superior causes do not introduce a
disruption.
Let us continue our analysis, which even the reader who
is unfamiliar with the Marxist method will understand to
be a schematic explanation for the sake of brevity. When
for the first time the minus habens (the have-not) not
only does not constrain his exploiter to use force in
order to compel him to execute the orders, but also
learns to repeat that rebellion is a great disgrace since
it jeopardises the rules and order on which everybody's
salvation depends -- at this point, hats off please, the
Law is born.
The first kings were clever hunters, valiant warriors
who risked their life and shed their blood for the
defence of the tribe; the first wizards were intelligent
investigators of the secrets of nature useful for curing
illnesses and for the well-being of the tribe; the first
masters of slaves or of wage labourers were capable
organisers of the productive efforts for the best yield
in the cultivation of the land or in the use of the first
technologies. The initial recognition of the useful
function they fulfilled led them to build the apparatus
of authority and power. This apparatus permitted those
who were at the top of the new and more profitable forms
of social life to appropriate, for their own enjoyment, a
large portion of the increased production that had been
realised.
Man first submitted the animals of other species to
such a relationship. The wild ox was subjugated to the
yoke for the first time only after a harsh struggle and
with the sacrifice of the boldest tamers. Later, actual
violence was no longer necessary in order to make the
animal lower his head. The powerful effort of the ox
multiplied the quantity of grain at the master's disposal
and the ox, for its nourishment and for the preservation
of its muscular efficiency, received a fraction of the
crops.
The evolved homo sapiens did not wait long to apply
this same relationship to his fellow-man with the rise of
slavery. The adversary, defeated in a personal or in a
collective conflict, the prisoner of war, crushed and
hurt, is forced with further violence to work with the
same economic contracts as the ox. At the beginning he
may have revolted, rarely being able to overwhelm the
oppressor and escape his grip; in the long run the normal
situation is that the slave, even if superior to his
master in muscular strength just as is the ox, suffers
under his yoke and functions like the animal -- only
providing a much wider range of services than the beast.
Centuries pass and this system builds its own ideology,
it is theorised; the priest justifies it in the name of
the gods and the judge with his penalties prohibits it
from being violated. There is a difference, and a
superiority of the man of the oppressed class over the
ox: no one could ever teach the ox to recite in a most
spontaneous way, a doctrine according to which the drag
of the plough is an immense advantage for him, a healthy
and civilised joy, a fulfilment of God's will and an
accomplishment of the sanctity of the law, nor will it
ever happen that the ox officially acknowledges all this
by casting votes in a ballot box.
Our long discourse on such an elementary subject aims
at this result: to credit the fundamental factor of force
with the sum-total of effects which are derived from it
not only when force is employed in its actual state, with
violence against the physical person, but also and above
all when it acts in its potential or virtual state
without the uproar of the fight and the shedding of
blood.
Crossing the centuries (and avoiding a repetition of
the analysis of the successive historical forms of
productive relationships, of class privileges, and of
political power) we must come to an application of this
result and this criterion to present-day capitalist
society.
It is thus possible to defeat the tremendous
contemporary mobilisation of deceit, the big universal
production which provides for the ideological subjugation
of the masses to the sinister dictates of the dominant
minorities. The fundamental trick of all this machinery
is "atrocitism": that is, the exhibition (which
incidentally is often corroborated by powerful
falsifications of facts) of all the episodes of material
aggression in which social violence, as a result of the
relationships of force, is manifested and consumed in
blows, gunshots, in killings and in atomic massacres --
and this last would certainly have appeared as the most
infamous if the producer of this show had not had
tremendous success in stupefying the world.
It will thus be possible to give the proper
consideration, the quantitatively and qualitatively
preponderant importance, to the countless cases in which
aggression, resulting always in misery, suffering and
destruction of human life on a tremendous scale, is
exercised without resistance, without clashes and -- as
we said at the beginning -- without bloodshed even in
times and places in which social peace and order seem to
be dominant. This is the social peace and order that is
boasted of by the professional pimps of spoken and
written propaganda as being the full realisation of
civilisation, order, and freedom.
In comparing the importance of both factors -- violence
in an actual state and violence in a potential state -- it
will be evident that despite of all the hypocrisies and
scandalmongerings, the second factor is the predominant
one. It is only on such a basis that it is possible to
build a doctrine and to wage a struggle capable of
breaking the limits of the present world of exploitation
and oppression.
II. The Bourgeois Revolution
The research we have engaged in regarding the "dosage"
of violence exercised in its actual state (through
physical beatings and injuries) and violence left at its
potential state (by subduing the dominated to the will of
the dominators through the complex play of penalties
threatened but not exercised) if applied to all social
forms which preceded the bourgeois revolution would prove
to be too lengthy. For this reason we shall consider the
question by starting from a comparison of the social
world of the "ancien régime" which preceded the great
revolution with that of capitalist society in which we
have the great joy to be living.
According to a first and well known interpretation, the
revolution which carried into effect the principles of
freedom, equality and fraternity, as expressed in the
elective institutions, was a universal and final conquest
for mankind. This was claimed on the basis
1) that it radically improved the conditions of life of
all the members of society by freeing them from the old
oppressions and by opening up for them the joy of a new
world and
2) that it eliminated the historical eventuality of any
further social conflict which could violently shatter the
newly established institutions and relationships.
A second interpretation which is less naïve and less
impudently apologetic about the delightfulness of the
bourgeois system, recognises that it still harbours large
differences of social conditions and economic
exploitation to the detriment of the working class and
that further transformations of society must be carried
out through more or less brusque or gradual means.
However it maintains with absolute obstinacy that the
conquests of the revolution that brought the capitalist
class to power represented a substantial advancement also
for the other classes which, thanks to it, gained the
inestimable advantage of legal and civil liberties.
Therefore, it alleges that the question is only that of
proceeding on the road that has already been opened up;
that is to say, it is claimed that all that is necessary
is to eliminate the remaining forms of despotism and
exploitation -- after having eliminated the most sever and
atrocious ones -- all the while keeping hold of those
first fundamental conquests. This worn out interpretation
is served to us in many forms. This is the case when
Roosevelt, from the summit of the pyramid of power,
deigned to add new liberties, freedom from need and
freedom from fear, to the well known liberties of the old
literature (and this at a time when a war of
unprecedented violence was raging, bringing an
extermination and starvation of human beings beyond any
previous limit). This is also the case when, from the
base of the pyramid, a naïve representative of the vulgar
popular politicking formulates, with new words, the old
concoction of democracy and socialism by chattering about
social liberties which should be added to those that have
already been achieved.
We should not need to recall that the Marxist analysis
of the historical process of the rise of capitalism has
nothing to do with the two interpretations we have
mentioned.
In fact, Marx never said that the degree of
exploitation, oppression and abuse in capitalist society
was inferior to that of feudal society but, on the
contrary, he explicitly proved the opposite.
Let us say right now, in order to avoid any serious
misunderstanding, that Marx proclaimed that it was a
historical necessity for the Fourth Estate to fight side
by side with the revolutionary bourgeoisie against the
monarchy, the aristocracy, and the clergy. He condemned
the doctrines of "reactionary" socialism according to
which the workers -- warned in time of the wild
exploitation to which they would be subjected by the
capitalists in the manufacturing and industrial plants --
should have blocked with the leading feudal class against
the capitalists. The most orthodox and left-wing Marxism
recognises that in the first historical phase which
follows the bourgeois revolution, the strategy of the
proletariat could not be other than that of a resolute
alliance with the young Jacobean bourgeoisie. These clear-
cut classical positions are not derived at all from the
assumption that the new economic system is less bestial
and oppressive than the previous one. They result instead
from the dialectical conception of history which explains
the succession of events as being determined by the
productive forces which, through constant expansion and
utilisation of always new resources, weigh down upon the
institutional forms and the established systems of power,
thus causing crises and catastrophes.
Thus revolutionary socialists have been following the
victories of modern capitalism for more than a century in
its impressive expansion all over the world and they
consider this as useful conditions of social development.
This is so because the essential characteristics of
capitalism (such as the concentration of productive
forces, machines and men into powerful units, the
transformation of all use values into exchange values and
the interconnection of all the economies of the world)
constitute the only path that leads, after new gigantic
social conflicts have taken place, to the realisation of
the new communist society. All this remains true and
necessary although we know perfectly well that the modern
industrial capitalist society is worse and more ferocious
than those which preceded it.
Of course, it is difficult for this conclusion to be
digested by minds which have been shaped by bourgeois
ideology and which have been ingrained with the idealisms
pullulating from the romantic period of the liberal
democratic revolutions. In fact if our thesis is judged
according to sentimentalist, literary and rhetorical
criteria, it cannot but arouse the banal indignation from
those righteous people who would not fail to confront us
with their jumbled erudition about the cruelties of the
old despotisms -- the autos-da-fé, the Holy Inquisition,
the corvées of the serfs, the right of the king as well
as the last feudal squire to dispose of the life and
death of their subjects, the jus primae noctis and so
forth -- thus showing us that pre-bourgeois societies were
the theatre for daily incessant violence and that their
institutions were dripped with blood.
But if the research is founded on a scientific and
statistical basis and if we consider the amount of human
work extorted without compensation in order to allow a
privileged enjoyment of wealth; if we consider the
poverty and misery of the lower social strata; if we
consider the lives which are sacrificed and broken as a
result of economic hardships and of the crises and
clashes which break out in the form of private feuds,
civil wars, or military conflicts among states; if we
consider all this, the heaviest index shall have to be
computed and attributed to this civilised, democratic and
parliamentarian bourgeois society.
In response to the scandalised accusation of those who
reproach the communists for aiming at the destruction of
private property, Marx answered -- and it is a fundamental
point -- that one of the basic aspects of the social
upheaval brought forth by capitalism was the violent,
inhuman expropriation of the artisan labourer. Before the
rise of the large manufactures and mechanised factories,
the isolated craftsman (or one who worked in association
with a few relatives and apprentices) was bound to his
tools as well as to the products of his work by a
factual, technical and economic tie. The right of
ownership over his few implements and over the limited
amount of commodities produced in his shop was, in fact,
legally recognised with no limitation. The coming of
capitalism crushes this patriarchal and almost idyllic
system. It defrauds the intelligent industrious craftsman
of his modest possessions and drags him, dispossessed and
starving, into the forced labour camps of the modern
bourgeois enterprise. While this upheaval unfolds, often
with open violence and always under the pressure of
inexorable economic forces, the bourgeois ideologists
define its legal aspects as a conquest of liberty which
frees the working citizen from the fetters of the
medieval guilds and trade rules, transforming him into a
free man in a free state.
Such was the process which manufacturing industry
underwent on the whole, and the presentation, in Marxist
terms, of the development of agricultural production is
not much different. To be sure, the system of feudal
servitude obliged the labourer of the soil to give up a
large portion of his production for the benefit of the
dominant classes, i.e. the nobility and the clergy. But
the serf who was bound to the soil maintained a technical
and productive tie with the earth itself and with a part
of the products, a tie which indirectly offered him a
guarantee of a secure, quiet life (a situation which was
also due to the low population density and to the limited
exchange of products with the large urban centres).
The capitalist revolution breaks those relationships
and claims to free the serf-peasant from a whole series
of abuses. However the land labourer, reduced to a pure
proletarian, follows the destiny of the slave-army of
industrial labourers, or else he is transformed into a
fully legal manager or owner of a small plot of land,
only to be dispossessed by the capitalist usurer, the tax
collector, or through the melting away of the value of
money.
It is not in the scope of this work to go into a
detailed analysis of this process. However the elementary
considerations we have made will be enough to answer
those who pretend they have never heard before that Marx
considered the new bourgeois society to be more infamous
than feudal society.
The essential point to establish is this: the
differentiating criterion which must be used in order to
know if a new historical movement should be supported or
combated is not whether or not this movement has realised
and accorded more equality, justice and freedom, which
would be an inconsistent and trivially literary
criterion. Instead it is the totally different and almost
always opposite criterion of asking whether the new
situation has promoted and brought forth the development
of more powerful and complex productive forces at
society's disposal.
These more highly developed forces are the
indispensable condition for the future organisation of
society itself in the sense of a more efficient
utilisation of labour which will be able to provide a
larger amount of consumer goods for the benefit of all.
It was not only useful but also absolutely necessary
for the bourgeoisie, by means of civil war, to demolish
the institutional obstacles which hampered the
development of large factories and the modern
exploitation of the land. If we consider these results,
it does not matter that the first and immediate
consequence, a transitory one on a larger historical
scale, was that of making the chains of the social
disparity and the exploitation of the labour force
heavier and more hideous.
* * *
The critique of scientific socialism has clearly shown
that the great social transformation achieved by
capitalism (a transformation which historically has fully
matured and which in turn is fertile with further great
developments) cannot be defined either as a radical
liberation of the vast masses or as a meaningful leap
forward in their standard of living. The transformation
of the institutions concerns only the mode in which the
small, dominant, privileged minority aligns and organises
itself in society.
The members of the pre-bourgeois privileged classes
formed a system of complex hierarchies. The high-ranking
ecclesiastics belonged to the ordered and well-organised
network of the church; the noblemen, who also occupied
the highest civil and military offices, were
hierarchically arranged in the feudal system which had at
its summit the King.
It is quite different in the new type of society (and
it must be understood that we are referring here to the
first and classical type of bourgeois economic society
based on the unlimited freedom of production and exchange
and leaving aside the great differences between the
various nations and historical phases). In this society
the members of the higher and privileged stratum are
almost totally free from ties of interdependence since
each factory owner has no personal obligations towards
his colleagues and competitors in the management of his
company and in the choice of his initiatives. This
technical and social change, in the ideological field,
takes the appearance of a historical turn from the realm
of authority to that of freedom.
It is clear however that this conquest, this
sensational change of scenery, did not take place on the
theatre of the entire social collectivity but only within
the narrow circles of the fortunate stratum of full and
gilded bellies, to which we may add the small following
of accomplices and direct agents, i.e. politicians,
journalists, priests, teachers, high officials and the
rest.
The mass of half-empty bellies are not absent in this
gigantic tragedy -- on the contrary, they participate in
it fighting with the sacrifice of their lives and blood.
What they are excluded from is the participation in the
benefits of this transformation.
The conquest of legal freedom, which all charters and
constitutions claim to be the heritage of all citizens
does not concern the majority who are even more exploited
and starved than before; in reality this conquest is only
the internal affair of a minority. All the contemporary
and historical questions which have been placed again
before the nauseating postulate of freedom and democracy
must be resolved in light of this approach.
On the scale of the individual, the materialist thesis
states that since the mind functions only when the
stomach is nourished, the theoretical right to freely
think and to freely express one's thought in fact
concerns only he who actually has the possibility of such
superior activity. Of course it is perfectly contestable
whether those who constantly boast of having attained
this superior activity actually should be credited with
it, but in any case it is certainly precluded for the
mass of poorly-fed bellies.
The harshness of this thesis customarily unchains a
sequence of bitter reproaches against the "vulgar obscene
materialism". This materialism is accused of taking into
account only the factor of economics and nourishment,
ignoring the glorious realm of spiritual life and
refusing to acknowledge those satisfactions which are not
reducible to physical sensations, i.e. those which man is
supposed to draw from the use of reason, from the
exercise of civil liberties, and from the enjoyment of
electoral rights by which the citizen chooses his
representatives and the heads of state.
Here we have nothing new to present and at the most we
will only verify well-known theories with recent facts.
Therefore in regard to these reproaches it is necessary
once again to establish the real scope of the economic
determinism professed by Marxists as opposed to a common
deformation which is more obstinate in refusing to
disappear than scabies or other contagious diseases. This
deformation reduces the problem to the petty individual
scale and pretends that the political, philosophical or
religious opinions of each individual are derived from
his economic relationships in society and mechanically
spring forth from his desires and interests. Hence the
large landowner will be a right-wing reactionary bigot;
the bourgeois businessman will be a conservative in
regards to economics but sometimes, at least until
recently, vaguely leftist in philosophy and politics; the
petty bourgeois will be more or less democratic; and the
worker will be a materialist, a socialist and a
revolutionary.
Such a Marxism, custom-made for the bourgeois
democrats, is very convenient for optimistically
declaring that since the economically oppressed workers
constitute the great majority of the population, it will
not be long before they have control of the
representative and executive organs and, later on, all
wealth and capital. Naturally for the rapid movement of
this merry-go-round it will be of great advantage to
swing the political opinions, beliefs and movements
towards the left, forming blocs and jumbled
conglomerations with all the slime of the middle strata
which supposedly are progressively evolving and taking a
position against the politics and privileges of the upper
classes.
In place of this stupid caricature, Marxism draws a
totally different picture. While speaking of the
ideological, political and mystical superstructures which
find their explanation in the underlying economic
conditions and relationships, Marxism establishes a law
and a method which have a general and social relevance.
In order to explain the significance of the ideology
which, in a given historical epoch, prevails among a
people who are governed through a given regime, we must
base our analysis on data concerning the productive
techniques and the relationships of the distribution of
goods and products. In other words, we must base it on
the class relationships between the privileged groups and
the collectivities of producers.
Briefly, and in plain words, the law of economic
determinism states that in each epoch the general
prevailing opinions, the political, philosophical and
religious ideas which are shared and followed by the
great majority are those which correspond to the
interests of a dominant minority who holds all power and
privilege in its hands. Hence the priests and wisemen of
the ancient oriental peoples justify despotism and human
sacrifice, those of the pagan civilisations preach that
slavery is just and beneficial, those of the christian
age exalt property and monarchy, and those of the epoch
of democracy and the Enlightenment canonise the economic
and juridical systems suitable to capitalism.
When a particular type of society and production enters
into a crisis and when forces arise in the technical and
productive domain which tend to break its limits, class
conflicts become more acute and are reflected in the rise
of new doctrines of opposition and subversion which are
condemned and attacked by the dominant institutions. When
a society is in crisis, one of the characteristics of the
phase which opens up is the continuous relative decrease
in the number of those who benefit from the existing
regime; nevertheless, the revolutionary ideology does not
prevail in the masses but is crystallised only in a
vanguard minority that is joined even by elements of the
dominant class. The masses will change ideologically,
philosophically and religiously through the force of
inertia and through the formidable means utilised by
every dominant class for the moulding of opinions, but
this transformation will occur only after a long period
following the collapse of the old structures of
domination. We can even state that a revolution is truly
mature when the actual physical fact of the inadequacy of
the systems of production places these systems into
conflict even with the material interests of a large
section of the privileged class itself. And this is true
in spite of the fact that the old traditional dictates of
the dominant opinions, with their tremendous reactionary
inertia, continue to be endlessly repeated by the mass
which is the victim of it as well as by the superior
layers which are the depositories of the regime.
Thus slavery definitively collapsed, in spite of an
obstinate resistance on the level of ideology and that of
force, when it proved to be a system which was scarcely
profitable for the exploitation of labour and which was
of little advantage for the slave-masters.
To say it briefly, the liberation of an oppressed class
does not proceed first from the liberation of the spirit
and then of the body but it must emancipate the stomach
well before it can affect the brain.
The forces for deceptively mobilising the opinions of
the masses in a way which conforms to the interests of
the privileged class are, in capitalist society, much
more powerful than in pre-bourgeois societies. Schools,
the press, public speeches, radios, motion pictures, and
associations of all kinds represent means which are a
hundred times more powerful than those that were
available to societies in the past. In the capitalist
regime, thought is a commodity and it is made to order by
utilising the necessary equipment and economic means for
its mass production. Germany and Italy had their
Ministries of Propaganda and People's Culture, and Great
Britain, in turn, instituted its Ministry of Information
at the beginning of World War II in order to monopolise
and control the whole flow of news. In the period between
the two World Wars, the dispatch of news was already a
monopoly of the powerful network of the British press
agencies; today such a monopoly obviously has crossed the
Atlantic. Thus as long as military operations were
favourable for the Germans the daily production of tall
tales and lies from the English information factory
attained a level that the fascist organisations could
only envy. To give one example, at the time of the
incredible German military operation to conquer Norway in
48 hours, the British radio broadcasted the details of a
disastrous defeat of the German fleet in the Skagerrak!
The social factor of the manipulation of ideas, which
ranges from the falsification of the news to the
fabrication of ready-made critics and opinions, is of no
small importance (in fact, in the news industry today the
various versions of an event are already compiled before
the event actually happens, so even if a reporter seems
to tell it like it is, it still remains a falsehood -- the
event that is reported is always the event which must
take place according to this or that state or this or
that party). This manipulation of ideas is a component of
that mass of virtual violence, that is to say, of
violence which does not take the form of a brutal
imposition carried out with coercive means but which
nonetheless is the result and the manifestation of real
forces that deform and modify the actual situation.
The modern type of democratic bourgeois society does
not joke with the administration of actual (or kinetic)
violence through its police and military apparatus -- and
in reality it exceeds the level of kinetic violence used
by the old regimes which are so slandered by bourgeois
democracy. But alongside of this, it brings the volume of
that application of virtual violence to a level never
known before, a level which is comparable to the
unprecedented level of production and the concentration
of wealth. Due to this, sections of the masses appear
which, out of apparently free choices of confessions,
opinions, and beliefs, act against their own objective
interests and accept the theoretical justifications of
social relationships and events which cause their misery
and even their destruction.
The passage from the pre-bourgeois forms to the present
society has thus increased and not diminished the
intensity and the frequency of the factor of oppression
and coercion.
And when Marxism, for all these reasons we have
explained, advocates the full completion of that
fundamental historical step, we certainly do not intend
to forget or to contradict this fundamental position.
It is only with criteria which are consistent with
those we have established above, that we can judge and
unravel one of the burning questions of today, i.e. the
transformation of the bourgeois method of administration
and government corresponding to the rise of the
dictatorial and fascist totalitarian regimes.
Such a transformation does not represent a change of
one ruling class for another, or even less a
revolutionary rupture of the modes of production. But
while making this critique it is necessary to avoid the
banal errors which, in line with the deviations of
Marxism we have been refuting, would lead to attributing
to the democratic-parliamentary form and phase a lesser
intensity and density of class violence.
This criterion, even if it were in keeping with the
facts, would not in any case be sufficient to induce us
to support and defend the democratic-parliamentary phase,
for the same dialectical reasons that we have used in
evaluating the previous historical changes. But an
analysis of this question can demonstrate that to refuse
the temptation of considering only actual violence and to
take into account, on the contrary, the whole volume of
potential violence which is inherent to the life and
dynamics of society, is the only way to avoid falling
into the deception of preferring (even if it is in a
subordinate and relative manner) the hypocritical method
and the noxious atmosphere of liberal democracy.
III. The Democratic Form and the Fascist Form of
Bourgeois Rule
This work examines the extent to which force is used in
social relationships, distinguishing between the two
forms in which violence is manifested: the open
manifestations which are carried out up to the point of
massacre; and the mechanism of social rules which are
obeyed by the affected individual or group without
physical resistance, due to the threat of punishment
inflicted on offenders or, in any case, due to the
predisposition of the victims to accept the norms which
rule over them.
In the first chapter we have established a comparison
between the two types of manifestation of energy in the
social domain and the two forms in which energy is
manifested in the physical world: the actual or kinetic
form (or energy of motion) which accompanies the
collisions and explosions of the most varied agents; and
the virtual or potential form (or energy of position)
which even if it does not produce such effects plays just
as great a role in the collection of events and
relationships under consideration.
This comparison -- developed from the field of physics
to that of biology, then to that of human society -- has
been carried out with brief references to the course of
historical epochs. Arriving at the present bourgeois
capitalist period we have shown that in this period the
play of force and violence in the economic, social, and
political relationships between individuals and above all
between classes not only has an enormous and fundamental
role but -- inasmuch as we can measure it -- becomes much
more frequent and widespread than in previous epochs and
pre-capitalist societies.
In a more exhaustive study we could use a social-
economic measurement if we try to translate into figures
the value of human labour extorted to the benefit of the
privileged classes from the great masses who work and
produce. In modern society there is a constant decrease
in the proportion of individuals and economic groupings
which succeed in living in their own autonomous cycle,
consuming what they produce without external
relationships. Simultaneously there has been an enormous
increase in the number of those who work for others and
who receive a remuneration that compensates them for only
a part of their work; likewise there has been an enormous
increase in the social gap between the living standard of
the great productive majority and that of the members of
the possessing classes. In fact what is important is not
the individual existence of one or only a few tycoons who
live in luxury, but the mass of wealth which a social
minority can use for its pleasures of all kinds while the
majority receives only a little more than is absolutely
necessary for existence.
Since our subject deals more with the political aspect
of the question than the economic, the question we must
pose in regard to the regime of capitalist privilege and
rule is that of the relationship between the use of brute
violence and that of potential force which compels the
impoverished to submit to the rules and laws in force
without violating them or revolting.
This relationship varies greatly according to the
various phases of the history of capitalism and according
to the various countries where capitalism has been
introduced. We can cite examples of neutral and idyllic
zones where the power of the state is exalted as being
freely accepted by all the citizens; where there is only
a small police force and where even the social conflicts
between workers and employers are solved through peaceful
means. But these Switzerlands tend, in time and space, to
become more and more rare oases in the world-wide
capitalist system.
At its birth capitalism could not conquer its ground
without open and bloody struggle since the shackles of
the state organisation of the old regime could only be
broken through force. Its expansion in the non-European
continents with its colonial expeditions and wars of
conquest and pillage was no less bloody, because only
through massacre could the mode of social organisation of
the native population be replaced by that of capitalism,
and in some cases this meant the extermination of entire
human races, something unknown in prebourgeois
civilisation.
In general, after this virulent phase of the birth and
foundation of capitalism, an intermediate period of its
development begins. Although this period is marked by
constant social clashes, by the repression of revolts of
the exploited classes, and by wars between states which
however do not embrace all the known world, it is the one
which has more than any other given rise to the liberal
and democratic apologia that falsely depicts a world in
which -- except for exceptional and pathological cases --
the relationships between individuals and between social
strata are supposed to have taken place with a maximum of
order, peace, spontaneous consent and free acceptance.
Let us say incidentally that in these colonial or
national wars, revolts, insurrections, or repressions --
which constitute, even in the smoother and calmer phases
of bourgeois history, the areas in which open violence is
unleashed -- the bloodshed and the number of victims in
these crises tend to increase, all the other conditions
being equal, with respect to the crises of the past, and
for this we can thank "progressive" bourgeois
technological development. In fact, in parallel with the
improvement of the means of production, the means of
attack and destruction are made more and more potent,
more powerful weapons are created, and the casualties
which Caesar's praetorians could inflict by putting
rebels to the sword were a joke compared to those which
machine-gun fire can inflict against the insurgents of
the modern epoch.
But our aim is to show that even in long phases of
bloodless enforcement of capitalist rule, class force
does not cease to be present, and its influence in its
potential state against the possible deviations of
isolated individuals, organised groups or parties remains
the primary factor in conserving the privileges and
institutions of the ruling class. We have already cited
among the manifestations of this class force not only the
entire state apparatus, with its armed forces and its
police, even when its weapons are kept at rest, but also
the whole arsenal of ideological indoctrination which
justifies bourgeois exploitation and is carried out by
means of the schools, the press, the church and all the
other ways by which the opinions of the masses are
moulded. This epoch of apparent tranquillity is only
disturbed occasionally by unarmed demonstrations of the
proletarian class organisations; and the bourgeois
onlookers can say, after the Mayday march, as in the
verses of the poet: "Once more, thanks to Christ and to
the police chief, we have had no trouble".
When social unrest rumbles more threateningly, the
bourgeois state begins to show its power by taking
measures to maintain order. A technical police expression
gives a good idea of the use of potential violence: "the
police and the troops are standing by". This means that
there is no street fighting yet, but that if the
bourgeois order and the bosses' "rights" were threatened
the armed forces would leave their quarters and open
fire.
The revolutionary critique has never let itself be
hypnotised by the appearances of civility and serene
equilibrium of the bourgeois order. It long ago
established that even in the most democratic republic the
political state constitutes the executive committee of
the ruling class; and thus it decisively demolished the
stupid theories which would have us believe that after
the destruction of the old feudal, clerical and
autocratic state a new form of state arises in which,
thanks to elective democracy, all the elements of
society, whatever their economic condition may be, are
represented and protected with equal rights. The
political state, even and primarily that representative
and parliamentary one, constitutes an apparatus of
oppression. It can be compared to an energy reservoir
which stores the forces of domination of the economically
privileged class. This reservoir is such that these
forces are kept in the potential state in situations
where social revolt does not near the point of exploding,
but it unleashes them in the form of police repression
and bloody violence as soon as revolutionary tremors rise
from the social depths.
This is the sense of the classical analysis of Marx and
Engels on the relationship between society and state, or
in other words between social classes and the state. All
attempts to shake this fundamental point of the
proletariat's class doctrine have been crushed in the
restoration of the revolutionary principles carried out
by Lenin, Trotsky and the Communist International
immediately after World War I.
There is no scientific sense in establishing the
existence of a quantum of potential energy if it is not
possible to foresee that, in subsequent situations, it
will be liberated in the kinetic state. Likewise the
Marxist definition of the character of the bourgeois
political state would remain meaningless and inconsistent
if it did not conform to the certainty that in the
culminating phase this organ of power of capitalism will
inevitably unleash all its resources in the kinetic state
against the eruption of the proletarian revolution.
Moreover, the equivalent of the Marxist thesis on the
increase of poverty, and on the accumulation and
concentration of capital could, in the sphere of
politics, be nothing other than the concentration and
increase of the energy contained within the state
apparatus. In fact once the deceitfully peaceful phase of
capitalist era had been closed with the outburst of the
war of 1914 and with the economic characteristics
evolving towards monopoly and towards the active
intervention of the state in the economy and in the
social struggles, it became evident -- above all in the
classical analysis of Lenin -- that the political state of
bourgeois regimes was taking on more and more decided
forms of strict domination and police oppression. We have
established in other works that the third and most modern
phase of capitalism is economically defined as
monopolist, introducing economic planning, and
politically defined as totalitarian and fascist.
When the first fascist regimes appeared they were
considered in the more immediate and commonplace
interpretations as a restriction and an abolition of the
so-called parliamentary and legal "guaranteed" rights. In
actuality it was simply a question, in certain countries,
of a passage of the political energy of domination of the
capitalist class from the potential state to the kinetic
state.
It was clear to every follower of the Marxist
perspective -- a perspective defined as catastrophic by
the stupid castrators of that doctrine's revolutionary
strength -- that the increasing severity of the class
antagonisms would move the conflicts of economic
interests to the level of an erupting revolutionary
attack launched by the proletarian organisations against
the citadel of capitalist state, and that the latter
would uncover its artillery and engage in the supreme
struggle for its survival.
In certain countries and in certain situations, for
example in Italy in 1922 and in Germany in 1933, the
tensions of the social relations, the instability of
capitalist economic fabric and the crisis of the state
apparatus itself due to the war became so acute that the
ruling class could see that the inevitable moment was at
hand where, with all the lies of democratic propaganda
being exhausted, the only solution was the violent clash
between the antagonistic social classes.
Then there occurred what was correctly defined as a
capitalists' offensive. Until then the bourgeois class,
with its economic exploitation in vigorous development,
had seemed to have been slumbering behind the apparent
kindliness and tolerance of its representative and
parliamentary institutions. Having succeeded in mastering
a very significant degree of historical strategy, it
broke the hesitations and took the initiative, thinking
that rather than a supreme defence of the state's
fortress against the assault of revolution (which,
according to Marx's and Lenin's teaching, does not aim at
taking over the state but at totally smashing it) it was
preferable to launch an offensive action aiming at the
destruction of the bases of the proletarian organisation.
Thus a situation which was clearly foreseen in the
revolutionary perspective was accelerated to a certain
extent. In effect, Marxist communists have never thought
that it was possible to carry out their program without
this supreme clash between the opposing class forces; and
moreover, the analysis of the most recent evolution of
capitalism and of the monstrous enlargement of its state
machineries with their enormous framework clearly
indicated that such a development was inevitable.
The great error of judgement, tactics, and strategy
which favoured the victory of the counter-revolution was
that of deploring capitalism's powerful shift from the
democratic hypocrisy to open violence, as if it was a
movement that could be historically reversed. Instead of
counterposing to this movement the necessity of the
destruction of capitalist power, one counterposed instead
the stupid pacifist pretension that capitalism would go
in reverse, backwards along its path, in a direction
opposite to the one which we Marxists have always
ascribed to it, and that for the personal convenience of
some cowardly rogue politicians, capitalism would be kind
enough not to unsheathe its class weapons and return to
the inconsistent and obsolete position of mobilisation
without war which constituted the "pleasant" aspect of
the previous period.
The basic mistake is to have been astonished, to have
whined or to have deplored that the bourgeoisie carried
out its totalitarian dictatorship without mask, whereas
we knew very well that this dictatorship had always
existed, that the state apparatus had always had,
potentially if not in actuality, the specific function of
wielding, preserving and defending the power and
privilege of the bourgeois minority against revolution.
The error consisted in preferring a bourgeois democratic
atmosphere to a fascist one; in shifting the battle front
from the perspective of the proletarian conquest of power
to that of an illusory restoration of a democratic method
of capitalist government in the place of the fascist one.
The fatal mistake was of not understanding that in any
case the eve of the revolution which had been awaited for
so many decades would reveal a bourgeois state drawn up
for the armed defence against the proletarian advance,
and that therefore such a situation must appear as a
progress, and not as a regression, in comparison with the
years of apparent social peace and of limited impetus
from the class force of the proletariat. The damage done
to the development of the revolutionary energies and to
the prospects of the realisation of a socialist society
does not stem from the fact that the bourgeoisie
organised in a fascist form is supposedly more powerful
and more efficient in defending its privilege than a
bourgeoisie still organised in a democratic form. Its
class power and energy is the same in both cases. In the
democratic phase it is in its potential state: over the
muzzle of the cannon there is the innocuous protection of
a covering. In the fascist phase energy is manifested in
the kinetic state: the hood is taken off and the shot is
fired. The defeatist and idiotic request which the
traitorous leaders of the proletariat make to
exploitative and oppressive capitalism is that it put
back the deceitful covering over the muzzle of the
weapon. If this were done the efficiency of the
domination and exploitation would not have diminished but
only increased thanks to the revitalised expedient of
legalistic deception.
Since it would be even more insane to ask the enemy to
disarm, we must gladly welcome the fact that, compelled
by the urgencies of the situation, it unveils its own
weapons, for then these weapons will be less difficult to
face and to defeat.
Therefore the bourgeois regime of open dictatorship is
an inevitable and predicted phase of the historical life
of capitalism and it will not die without having gone
through this phase. To fight to postpone this unmasking
of the energies of the antagonistic social classes, to
carry on a vain and rhetorical propaganda inspired by a
stupid horror of dictatorship in principle, all this work
can only favour the survival of capitalist regime and the
prolonged subjection and oppression of the working class.
* * *
And with just as much certainty we can conclude the
following, though it is quite likely to cause an uproar
from all the geese of the bourgeois left: the comparison
between the democratic phase of capitalism and the
totalitarian phase shows that the amount of class
oppression is greater in the first (although it is
obvious that the ruling class always tends to choose the
method which is more useful for its conservation).
Fascism undoubtedly unleashes a greater mass of police
and repressive violence, including bloody repression. But
this aspect of kinetic energy primarily and gravely
affects the very few authentic leaders and revolutionary
militants of the working class movement, together with a
stratum of middle bourgeois professional politicians who
pretend to be progressive and friends of the working
class, but who are nothing but the militia specially
trained by the capitalists for use in the periods of the
parliamentary comedy. Those who do not change their style
and their costume in time are ousted with a kick in the
ass -- which is the main reason for their outcries.
As for the mass of the working class, it continues to
be exploited as it has always been in the economic field.
And the vanguard elements which form within the class for
the assault against the present regime continue as always
to receive -- as soon as they take the correct anti-
legalistic way of action -- the lead which is reserved for
them even by the bourgeois democratic governments. This
we can see in countless examples, on the part of the
republicans in France in 1848 and 1871, on the part of
Social Democrats in Germany in 1919, etc.
But the new method introducing planning in the
management of capitalist economy -- which in relation to
the antiquated unlimited classical liberalism of the past
constitutes a form of self-limitation of capitalism --
leads to a levelling of the extortion of surplus value
around an average. The reformist measures which the right-
wing socialists had advocated for many decades are
adopted. In such a way the sharpest and extreme edges of
capitalist exploitation are eased, while forms of public
assistance develop.
All this aims at delaying the crises of class conflicts
and the contradictions of the capitalist mode of
production. But undoubtedly it would be impossible to
reach this aim without having succeeded in reconciling,
to a certain degree, the open repression against the
revolutionary vanguard with a relief of the most pressing
economic needs of the great masses. These two aspects of
the historical drama in which we live are a condition for
one another. Churchill in his latter days said with good
reason to the Labourites: you won't be able to found a
state-run economy without a police state. More
interventions, more regulations, more controls, more
police. Fascism consists of the integration of artful
social reformism with the open armed defence of state
power.
Not all the examples of fascism are at the same level.
Nevertheless the German one, as pitiless in the
elimination of its enemies as one may say, has achieved a
very high average standard of living economically
speaking and an administration that technically was
excellent, and when it has imposed war restrictions these
even fell on the propertied classes and this to an
unprecedented extent.
Therefore, even though bourgeois class oppression, in
the totalitarian phase, increases the proportion of the
kinetic use of violence with respect to the potential
one, the total pressure on the proletariat does not
increase but diminishes. It is precisely for this reason
that the final crisis of the class struggle historically
undergoes a delay.
The death of revolutionary energies lies in class
collaboration. Democracy is class collaboration through
lots of talk, fascism is plain class collaboration in
fact. We are living in the midst of this latter
historical phase. The rekindling of the class struggle
will dialectically arise from a later phase, but for the
time being let us establish that it cannot proceed
through rallying the working classes behind the slogan of
the return to liberalism, in which they have nothing to
gain, not even relatively.
* * *
This section deals mainly with the use of force,
violence and dictatorship by the ruling classes. It does
not exhaust the subject of the use of these energies by
the proletariat in the struggle for the conquest of power
and in the exercise of power, an important question that
will be reserved for following sections. But still
remaining within the field of the study of the bourgeois
forms of dictatorship, it would do well to specify that
when we speak about the fascist, totalitarian and
dictatorial capitalist method we always refer to
collective organisations and actions. We do not see the
prevailing factor of the historical scene to be
individual dictators, who so greatly occupy the attention
of a public that has been artfully enthralled, whether it
is by their supporters or their adversaries.
During the last world war, two of the Big Three have
been eliminated: Roosevelt and Churchill. But nothing has
substantially changed in the course of events. We will
leave Italy aside because here the examples of fascism
and anti-fascism have had a very clownish character (the
first models of an innovation always make one laugh, as
the early automobiles which can be seen in a museum
compared with a modern mass produced one). In Germany the
person of Hitler represented a superfluous factor of the
powerful Nazi organisation of forces. The Soviet regime
will do very well without Stalin when his time has come.
The other impressive machinery of domination, that of
Japan, was based upon castes and classes without a
personal leader.
We can escape from the overwhelming tide of lies which
gorges modern public opinion only if we relentlessly
drive away both the fetish of the individual as a
protagonist of history, meaning not only the ordinary
person, the man in the street, but also the one in the
centre of the stage, the Leader, the Great Man.
That we live in an epoch of self-government of the
peoples, not even the simpletons believe...
But we are not in the hands of a few great men either.
We are in the hands of a very few great class Monsters,
of the greatest states of the world, machines of
domination whose enormous power weighs upon everybody and
everything. Their open accumulation of potential energies
foreshadows, in all corners of the earth, the kinetic use
of immense and crushing forces when the conservation of
the present institutions will require it. And these
forces will be unleashed without the slightest hesitation
on any side in the face of civil, moral and legal
scruples, those ideal principles which are croaked about
from morning till night by the infamous, purchased,
hypocritical propagandas.
IV. Proletarian Struggle and Violence
The first three parts of this article have briefly
outlined the historical development of the class
struggles up to present-day bourgeois society. They
presented the perspective which Marxist socialism has
long given on this subject but which nevertheless
continues to be an object of deviation and confusion.
To clarify the question we made the fundamental
distinction between energy in the potential state (energy
which is capable of entering into action but is not yet
acting) and energy in the actual or kinetic state (energy
which has already been set into motion and is producing
its various effects). We explained the nature of this
distinction in the physical world and extended it in a
very simple way to the field of organic life and human
society.
The problem was then to identify this energy, i.e.
violence and coercive force, in the events of social
life. We have emphasised that this is operating not only
when there is a brutal physical act against the human
body such as physical restraint, beating, and killing,
but also in that much larger field where the actions of
individuals are coerced through the simple threat and
under the penalty of violence. This coercion arises
inseparably with the first forms of collective productive
activity and thus of what is considered to be civilised
and political society. Coercion is an indispensable
factor in the development of the whole course of history
and in the development of the successive institutions and
classes. The question is not to exalt or condemn it, but
to recognise and consider it in the context of the
different historical epochs and the various situations.
The second section compared feudal society with
bourgeois capitalist society. Its aim was to illustrate
the thesis, which of course is not new, that the passage
from feudalism to capitalism -- an event fundamental in
the evolution of the technology of production as well as
in the evolution of the economy -- has not been
accompanied by a decrease in the use of force, violence,
and social oppression.
For Marx, the capitalist form of economy and society is
the most antagonistic that history has presented until
now. In its birth, its development, and its resistance
against its own destruction, capitalism reaches a level
of exploitation, persecution, and human suffering unknown
before. This level is so high in quality and quantity, in
potential and mass, in severity and range and -- if we
translate it into the ethical-literary terms which are
not ours -- in ferocity and immensity, that it has reached
the masses, the peoples, and the races of all corners of
the earth.
Finally the third section dealt with the comparison
between the liberal-democratic and the fascist-
totalitarian forms of bourgeois rule, showing that it is
an illusion to consider the first to be less oppressive
and more tolerant than the second. If we take into
consideration not violence as it is openly manifested,
but instead the actual potential of the modern state
apparatuses, that is to say their ability and capacity to
resist all antagonistic, revolutionary assaults, we can
easily substitute the blind common-place present-day
attitude, one that rejoices because two world wars
supposedly drove back the forces of reaction and tyranny,
and replace it by the obvious and clear verification that
the capitalist system has more than doubled its strength,
a strength concentrated in the great state monsters and
in the world Leviathan of class rule now being
constructed. Our proof of this is not based on an
examination of the juridical hypocrisy or of the written
or oratorical demagogy of today, which anyway are more
revolting than they were under the defeated regimes of
the Axis powers. Instead it is based on the scientific
calculation of the financial, military, and police
forces, in the measurement of the frantic accumulation
and concentration of private or public, but always
bourgeois, capital.
In comparison to 1914, 1919, 1922, 1933, and 1943, the
capitalist regime of 1947 weighs down more, always more,
in its economic exploitation and in its political
oppression of the working masses and of everyone and
everything that crosses its path. This is true for the
"Great Powers" after their totalitarian suppression of
the German and Japanese state machines. It is also and no
less true even for the Italian state: although defeated,
derided, forced into vassalage, saleable and sold in all
direction, it is nevertheless more armed with police and
more reactionary now than under Giolitti and Mussolini,
and it will be even more reactionary if it passes from
the hands of De Gasperi (1) to those of the left parties.
Having summarised the first three parts, we must now
deal with the question of the use of force and violence
in the social struggle when these methods of action are
taken up by the revolutionary class of the present epoch,
the modern proletariat.
In the course of about a century, the method of class
struggle has been accepted in words by so many and such
various movements and schools that the most widely
differing interpretations have clashed in violent
polemics, reflecting the ups and downs and the turning
points of the history of capitalism and of the
antagonisms to which it gives rise.
The polemic has been clarified in a classic way in the
period between World War I and the Russian Revolution.
Lenin, Trotsky, and the left-wing communist groups (2)
who gathered in Moscow's International settled the
questions of force, violence, the conquest of power, the
state, and the dictatorship in a way we must consider as
definitive on the theoretical and programmatic level.
Opposed to them were the countless deformations of
social-democratic opportunism. It is not necessary to
repeat our refutation of these positions but it is useful
to simply recall some points which clarify the concepts
which distinguish us. Moreover, many of these false
positions, which were then trampled to the ground and
which seemed to have been dispersed forever, have
reappeared in almost identical forms in the working class
movement today.
Revisionism pretended to show that the prediction of a
revolutionary clash between the working class and the
defensive network of bourgeois power was an obsolete part
of the Marxist system. Falsifying and exploiting the
Marxist texts (in this case a famous preface and letter
of Engels) (3) it maintained that the progress of
military technology precluded any perspective of a
victorious armed insurrection. It claimed instead that
the working class would achieve power very shortly
through legal and peaceful means due to the development
and strengthening of working class unions and of
parliamentary political parties.
Revisionism sought to spread throughout the ranks of
the working class the firm conviction that it was not
possible to overthrow the power of the capitalist class
by force and, furthermore, that it was possible to
realise socialism after conquering the executive organs
of the state by means of a majority in the representative
institutions. Left Marxists were accused of a worship of
violence, elevating it from a means to an end and
invoking it almost sadistically even when it was possible
to spare it and attain the same result in a peaceful way.
But in the face of the eloquence of the historical
developments this polemic soon unveiled its content. It
was a mystique not so much of non-violence as it was an
apology of the principles of the bourgeois order.
After the armed revolution triumphed in Leningrad over
the resistance of both the Czarist regime and the Russian
bourgeois class, the argument that it was not possible to
conquer power with arms changed into the argument that it
must not be done, even if it is possible. This was
combined with the idiotic preaching of a general
humanitarianism and social pacifism which of course
repudiates the violence utilised for the victory of the
working class revolutions, but does not denounce the
violence used by the bourgeoisie for its historical
revolutions, not even the extreme terroristic
manifestations of this violence. Moreover, in all the
controversial debates, in historical situations which
were decisive for the socialist movement, when the right
contested the propositions of direct action, it admitted
that it would have agreed with the necessity of resorting
to insurrection if it were for other objectives. For
example, the Italian reformist socialists in May 1915
opposed the proposal for a general strike at the moment
of war mobilisation, using ideological and political
arguments in addition to a tactical evaluation of the
relation of forces; but they admitted that if Italy
intervened in the war on the side of Austria and Germany
they would call the people to insurrection.
In the same way, those who theorise the "utilisation"
of legal and democratic ways are ready to admit that
popular violence is legitimate and necessary when there
is an attempt from above to abolish constitutional
rights. But in such a case how can it be explained that
the development of military technology in the hands of
the state is no longer an insurmountable obstacle? How
can it be foreseen, in the event of a peaceful conquest
of the majority, that the bourgeoisie will not use those
military means in order to maintain power? How can the
proletariat in these situations victoriously use the
violence which is criticised and condemned as a class
means? The social democrats cannot answer this because in
doing so they would be obliged to confess that they are
pure and simple accomplices in preserving bourgeois rule.
A system of tactical slogans such as theirs can in fact
be reconciled only with a clearly anti-Marxist apology of
bourgeois civilisation which precisely is the essence of
the politics of those parties which have risen from the
deformed trunk of anti-fascism.
The social-democratic thesis contends that the last
historical situation where the recourse to violence and
forms of civil war was necessary was precisely that
situation which enabled the bourgeois order to rise from
the ruins of the old feudal and despotic regimes. With
the conquest of political liberties an era of civilised
and peaceful struggles is supposedly opened in which all
other conquests, such as economic and social equality,
can be realised without further bloody conflicts.
According to this ignoble falsification, the historical
movement of the modern proletariat and socialism are no
longer the most radical battle of history. They are no
longer the destruction of an entire world down to its
foundations, from its economic framework and its legal
and political system to its ideologies still impregnated
with all the lies transmitted by previous forms of
oppression and still poisoning even the very air we
breathe.
Socialism is reduced to a stupid and irresolute
combination of supposed legal and constitutional
conquests by which the capitalist form has pretendedly
enriched and enlightened society and vague social
postulates which can be grafted and transplanted onto the
trunk of the bourgeois system.
Marx measured the irresistible and increasing pressures
in the social depths which will cause the mantle of the
bourgeois forms of production to explode, just as
geological cataclysms break the crust of the planet. His
formidable historical vision of social antagonisms is
replaced by the contemptible deception of a Roosevelt who
adds to the short list of bourgeois liberties those of
freedom from fear and freedom from need, or of a Pius XII
who, after blessing once again the eternal principle of
property in its modern capitalist form, pretends to weep
over the abyss which exists between the poverty of the
multitude and the monstrous accumulations of wealth.
Lenin's theoretical restoration of the revolutionary
doctrine re-established the definition of the state as a
machine which one social class uses to oppress other
classes. This definition above all is fully valid for the
modern bourgeois, democratic, and parliamentary state.
But as a crowning point of the historical polemic, it
must be made clear that the proletarian class force
cannot take over this machine and use it for its own
purposes; instead of conquering it, it must smash it and
break it to pieces.
The proletarian struggle is not a struggle that takes
place within the state and its organs but a struggle
outside the state, against it, and against all its
manifestations and forms.
The proletarian struggle does not aim at seizing or
conquering the state as if it were a fortress which the
victorious army seeks to occupy. Its aim instead is to
destroy it and to raze its defeated defences and
fortifications to the ground.
Yet after the destruction of the bourgeois state a form
of political state becomes necessary, i.e. the new
organised class power of the proletariat. This is due to
the necessity of directing the use of an organised class
violence by means of which the privileges of capital are
rooted out and the organisation of the freed productive
forces in the new, non-private, non-commodity communist
forms is made possible.
Consequently it is correct to speak of the conquest of
power, meaning a non-legal, non-peaceful, but violent,
armed, revolutionary conquest. It is correct to speak of
the passage of power from the hands of the bourgeoisie to
those of the proletariat precisely because our doctrine
considers power not only authority and law based on the
weight of the tradition of the past but also the dynamics
of force and violence thrust into the future, sweeping
away the barriers and obstacles of institutions. It would
not be exact to speak of the conquest of the state or the
passage of the state from the administration of one class
to that of another precisely because the state of a
ruling class must perish and be shattered as a condition
for the victory of the formerly subjected class. To
violate this essential point of Marxism, or to make the
slightest concession to it (for instance allowing the
possibility that the passage of power can take place
within the scope of a parliamentary action, even one
accompanied by street fighting and battles, and by acts
of war between states) leads to the utmost conservatism.
This is because such a concession is tantamount to
conceding that the state structure is a form which is
opened to totally different and opposed contents and
therefore stands above the opposing classes and their
historical conflict. This can only lead to the
reverential respect of legality and the vulgar apology
for the existing order.
It is not only a question of an error of scientific
evaluation but also of a real degenerative historical
process which took place before our eyes. It is this
process which has led the ex-communist parties down hill,
turning their backs on Lenin's theses and arriving at the
coalition with the social-democratic traitors, the
Sworker's government", and then the democratic
government, that is to say a direct collaboration with
the bourgeoisie and at its service.
With the unequivocally clear thesis of the destruction
of the state, Lenin re-established the thesis of the
establishment of the proletarian state. The second thesis
does not please the anarchists who, though they had the
merit of advancing the first, had the illusion that
immediately after bourgeois power was smashed society
could dispense with all forms of organised power and
therefore with the political state, that is to say with a
system of social violence. Since the transformation of
the economy from private to socialist cannot be
instantaneous, it follows that the elimination of the non-
labouring class cannot be instantaneous and cannot be
accomplished through the physical elimination of its
members. Throughout the far from brief period during
which the capitalist economic forms persist while
constantly diminishing, the organised revolutionary state
must function, which means -- as Lenin unhypocritically
said -- maintaining soldiers, police forces, and prisons.
With the progressive reduction of the sector of the
economy still organised in private forms, there is a
corresponding reduction of the area in which it is
necessary to use political coercion, and the state tends
to progressively disappear.
The points which we have recalled here in a schematic
way are enough to demonstrate how both a magnificent
polemical campaign ridiculing and crushing its opponents
and, above all, how the greatest event up to now in the
history of the class struggle have brought out in all
their clarity the classical theses of Marx and Engels,
the Communist Manifesto, and the conclusions which have
been drawn from the defeat of the Paris Commune. These
are the theses of the conquest of political power, the
proletarian dictatorship, the despotic intervention in
the bourgeois relationships of production, and the final
withering away of the state. The right of speaking of
historical confirmations parallel to the brilliant
theoretical construction seems to cease when this last
phase is attained since we have not yet witnessed -- in
Russia or anywhere else -- the process of the withering
away, the dying down of itself, the dissolving away
(Auflösung in Engels) of the state. The question is
important and difficult since a sound dialectic can
demonstrate nothing with certainty on the basis of a more
or less brilliant series of spoken or written words.
Conclusions can only be based on facts.
The bourgeois states, in whatever atmospheres and
ideological climates, inflate in a more and more terrible
way before our eyes. The only state which [in 1947 -- Ed.]
is presented, through tremendous propaganda, as a working
class state, expands its apparatus and its bureaucratic,
legal, police, and military functions beyond all limits.
So it is not surprising that the prediction of the
shrivelling up and elimination of the state, after it has
fulfilled its decisive role in the class struggle, is
greeted with a widespread scepticism.
Common opinion seems to say to us: "You can always
wait, you who theorise even red dictatorships! The state
organ, like a tumour in the body of society, will not
regress and will instead invade all its tissues and all
its innermost recesses until suffocating it". It is this
commonplace attitude which encourages all the
individualist, liberal, and anarchist ideologies, and
even the old and new deformed hybrids between the class
method and the liberal one, all of which are served to us
by socialisms based on nothing less than the personality
and on the plenitude of its manifestation.
It is quite remarkable that even the few groups in the
communist camp which reacted to the opportunist
degeneration of the parties of the now dissolved
International of Moscow, tend to display a hesitation on
this point. In their preoccupation with fighting against
the suffocating centralisation of the Stalinist
bureaucracy, they have been led to cast doubts on the
Marxist principles re-established by Lenin, and they
reveal they believe that Lenin -- and along with him all
the revolutionary communists in the glorious period of
1917-20 -- were guilty of an idolisation of the state.
We must firmly and clearly state that the current of
the Italian Marxist left, with which this review is
linked, does not have the slightest hesitance or
repentance on this point. It rejects any revision of Marx
and Lenin's fundamental principle that the revolution, as
it is a violent process par excellence, is thus a highly
authoritarian, totalitarian, and centralising act.
Our condemnation of the Stalinist orientation is not
based on the abstract, scholastic, and constitutionalist
accusation that it committed the sinful acts of abusing
bureaucratism, state intervention, and despotic
authority. It is based instead on quite different
evaluations, i.e. the economic, social, and political
development of Russia and the world, of which the
monstrous swelling of the state machine is not the sinful
cause but the inevitable consequence.
The hesitation about accepting and defending the
dictatorship is rooted not only in vague and stupid
moralising about the pretended right of the individual or
the group not to be pressured by or forced to yield to a
greater force, but also in the distinction -- undoubtedly
very important -- made between the concept of a
dictatorship of one class over another and the
relationships of organisation and power within the
working class which constitutes the revolutionary state.
With this point we have reached the aim of the present
article. Having restated the basic facts in their correct
terms, we of course do not pretend to have exhausted
these questions, which is something that only history can
do (as we consider it to have done with the question of
the necessity of violence in the conquest of power). The
task of the party's theoretical work and militancy is
something other: it is to avoid, in the search for a
solution to these questions, the unconscious utilisation
of arguments which are dictated or influenced by enemy
ideologies, and thus by the interests of the enemy class.
Dictatorship is the second and dialectical aspect of
revolutionary force. This force, in the first phase of
the conquest of power, acts from below and concentrates
innumerable efforts in the attempts to smash the long-
established state form. After the success of such an
attempt, this same class force continues to act but in an
opposite direction, i.e. from above, in the exercise of
power entrusted to a new state body fully constituted in
its whole and its parts and even more robust, more
resolute and, if necessary, more pitiless and terroristic
than that which was defeated.
The outcries against the call for the proletarian
dictatorship (a claim that even the politicians of the
iron Moscow regime are hypocritically hiding today) as
well as the cries of alarm against the pretended
impossibility of curbing the lust for power and
consequently for material privilege on the part of the
bureaucratic personnel crystallised into a new ruling
class or caste, all this corresponds to the vulgar and
metaphysical position which treats society and the state
as abstract entities. Such a position is incapable of
finding the key to problems through an investigation into
the facts of production and into the transformation of
all relationships, which the collision between classes
will give birth to.
Thus it is a banal confusion to equate the concept of
dictatorship that we Marxists call for, with the vulgar
conception of tyranny, despotism, and autocracy. The
proletarian dictatorship is thus confused with personal
power, and on the basis of the same stupidities, Lenin is
condemned just like Hitler, Mussolini, or Stalin.
We must remember that the Marxist analysis completely
disclaims the assertion that the state machines act under
the impulse of the will of these contemporary "Duces".
These "Duces" are nothing but chessmen, having only
symbolic importance, which are moved on the chessboard of
history by forces from which they cannot escape.
Furthermore we have shown many times that the bourgeois
ideologists do not have the right to be shocked by a
Franco, a Tito, or the vigorous methods used by the
states which present them as their leaders, since these
ideologists do not hesitate to justify the dictatorship
and terror to which the bourgeoisie resorted precisely in
the period following its conquest of power. Thus no right-
minded historian classifies the dictator of Naples in
1860, Giuseppe Garibaldi, as a political criminal but on
the contrary exalts him as a true champion of humanity.
The proletarian dictatorship, therefore, is not
manifested in the power of a man, even if he has
exceptional personal qualities.
Does this dictatorship then have as its acting agent a
political party which acts in the name and in the
interests of the working class? Our current answers this
question, today as well as at the time of the Russian
Revolution, with an unconditional "yes".
Since it is undeniable that the parties which pretend
to represent the proletarian class have undergone
profound crises and have repeatedly broken up or
undergone splits, our decidedly affirmative answer raises
the following question: is it possible to determine which
party has in effect such a revolutionary prerogative, and
what criterion is to be used to determine it? The
question is thus transferred to the examination of the
relationship between the broad class base and the more
limited and well defined organ which is the party.
In answering the questions on this point we must not
lose sight of the distinctive characteristic of the
dictatorship. As is always the case with our method,
before concrete historical events reveal the positive
aspects of this dictatorship, we shall define it by its
negative aspect.
A regime in which the defeated class still exists
physically and constitutes from a statistical viewpoint a
significant part of the social agglomerate but is kept
outside of the state by force, is a dictatorship.
Moreover this defeated class is kept in conditions which
make it impossible to attempt a reconquest of power
because it is denied the rights of association,
propaganda, and the press.
It is not necessary to determine from the start who
maintains the defeated class in this strict state of
subjugation: the very course of the historical struggle
itself will tell us. Provided that the class we fight is
reduced to this state of a social minority, undergoing
this social death pending its statistical one, we will
admit for a moment that the acting agent can be either
the entire victorious social majority (an extreme
hypothesis which is unrealisable), or a part of that
majority, or a solid vanguard group (even if it is a
statistical minority), or finally, in a brief crisis,
even a single man (another extreme hypothesis, which was
close to being realised in only one historical example --
that of Lenin, who in April 1917, alone against the
entire Central Committee and the old Bolsheviks, was able
to read in advance in the march of events and to
determine in his theses the new course of the history of
the party and of the revolution, just as in November he
had the Constituent Assembly dissolved by the Red Guard).
As the Marxist method is not a revelation, a prophecy,
or a scholasticism, it achieves first of all the
understanding of the way in which the historical forces
act and determines their relationships and their
collisions. Then, with theoretical research and practical
struggle continuing, it determines the characteristics of
the manifestation of these forces and the nature of the
means by which they act.
The Paris Commune has confirmed that the proletarian
forces must smash the old state instead of entering it
and taking it over; its means must not be legality but
insurrection.
The very defeat of the proletariat in that class battle
and the October victory at Leningrad have shown that it
is necessary to organise a new form of armed state whose
"secret" is in the following: it denies political
survival to the members of the defeated class and to all
its various parties.
Once this decisive secret has been drawn from history,
we still have not clarified and studied all the
physiology and the dynamics of the new organ that has
been produced. Unfortunately an extremely difficult area,
its pathology, remains open.
Above all else the determining negative characteristic
is the exclusion of the defeated class from the state
organ (regardless of whether or not it has multiple
institutions: the representative, executive, judicial and
bureaucratic). This radically distinguishes our state
from the bourgeois state which pretends to welcome all
social strata in its bodies.
Yet this change cannot seem absurd to the defeated
bourgeoisie. Once it succeeded in bringing down the old
state based on two orders -- the nobility and the clergy --
it understood that it had made a mistake by only
demanding to enter as the Third Estate in the new state
body. Under the Convention and under the Terror it chased
the aristocrats out of the state. It was easy for it to
historically close up the phase of open dictatorship
since the privileges of the two orders which were based
on legal prerogatives rather than on the productive
organisation could rapidly be destroyed and thereby the
priest and the noble could rapidly be reduced to simple
ordinary citizens.
In this article we have defined what fundamentally
distinguishes the historical form of the proletarian
dictatorship. In the next article of this series we will
examine the relationship between the various organs and
institutions through which the proletarian dictatorship
is exercised: the class party, workers councils, unions,
and factory councils.
In other words we will conclude by discussing the
problem of the so-called proletarian democracy (an
expression utilised by some texts of the Third
International but which it would be good to eliminate)
which is supposedly to be instituted after the
dictatorship has historically buried bourgeois democracy.
V. The Degeneration of the Proletarian Power in Russia
and the Question of the Dictatorship
The difficult problem of the degeneration of the
proletarian power can be summarised briefly. In a large
country the working class conquered power following the
program which called for armed insurrection and the
annihilation of all influence of the defeated class
through pressure of the proletarian class dictatorship.
In the other countries of the world, however, the working
class either did not have the strength to initiate the
revolutionary attack or else was defeated in the attempt.
In these countries, power remained in the hands of the
bourgeoisie, and production and exchange continued
according to the laws of capitalism which dominated all
the relationships of the world market.
In the country where the revolution triumphed, the
dictatorship held firm politically and militarily against
every counter-attack. It brought the civil war to a close
in a few short and victorious years, and foreign
capitalism did not engage in a general action to crush
it.
A process of internal degeneration of the new political
and administrative apparatus began to develop however. A
privileged circle began to form, monopolising the
advantages and posts in the bureaucratic hierarchy while
continuing to claim to represent the interests of the
great labouring masses.
In the other countries, the revolutionary working class
movement, which was intimately linked to this same
political hierarchy, not only did not succeed in the
victorious overthrow of the bourgeois states, but
progressively lost and distorted the whole sense of its
own action by pursuing other non-revolutionary
objectives.
* * *
This terrible problem in the history of the class
struggle gives rise to a crucial question: how can such a
double catastrophe be prevented? The question actually is
badly posed. For those who follow the determinist method
the question actually is one of determining the true
characteristics and laws of this degenerative process, in
order to establish when and how we can recognise the
conditions which would allow us to expect and pursue a
revolutionary course free from this pathological
reversion.
Here we will not concern ourselves with refuting those
who deny the existence of such a degeneration and who
maintain that in Russia there is a true revolutionary
working class power, an actual evolution of the economic
forms towards communism, and a coordination with the
other proletarian parties of the world which will
actually lead to the overthrow of world capitalism.
Nor will we concern ourselves here with a study of the
socio-economic aspects of the problem, for this would
necessitate a detailed and careful analysis of the
mechanism of production and distribution in Russia and of
the actual relationships which Russia has with foreign
capitalist economies.
Instead, at the end of this historical exposition on
the question of violence and force, we will respond to
those who claim that such an oppressive and bureaucratic
degeneration is a direct consequence of infringing and
violating the cannons and principles of elective
democracy.
This democratic critique has two aspects, with the less
radical being in fact the more insidious. The first is
overtly bourgeois and is directly linked to the entire
world campaign to defame the Russian Revolution. This
campaign, which has been going on since 1917, has been
led by all the liberals, democrats and social democrats
of the world who have been terrorised as much by the
magnificent and courageous theoretical proclamation of
the method of the proletarian dictatorship as by its
practical application.
After everything that has been said we will consider
this first aspect of the democratic lamentation to have
been refuted. The struggle against it, however, still
remains of primary importance today since the conformist
demand of what Lenin called "democracy in general" (and
which in the basic communist works represents the
dialectical opposite, the antithesis of the revolutionary
position) is still disgustingly paraded by the very
parties who claim to be linked to the present regime in
Russia. This very regime, although making dangerous and
condemnable concessions to the bourgeois democratic
mechanism at home in the area of formal rights, not only
continues to be but becomes increasingly a strictly
totalitarian and police state.
Therefore we can never insist enough on our critique of
democracy in all the historical forms in which it has
appeared until now. Democracy has always been an internal
method of organisation of the oppressor class, whether
this class is old or new. It has always been a technique,
whether old or new, that is utilised in the internal
relations among the elements and groups of the exploiting
class. In the bourgeois revolutions it was also the
necessary and vital environment for the emergence of
capitalism.
The old democracies were based on electoral principles,
assemblies, parliaments or councils. While deceitfully
pretending that their aim was to realise a well-being for
all and the extension of the spiritual or material
conquests to all of society, their actual function was to
enforce and maintain the exploitation of a mass of
heathens, slaves and helots, of whole peoples who had
been oppressed because they were less advanced or less
war-like, and of a whole mass who had been excluded from
the temple, the senate, the city and the assemblies.
We can see the reality of the multitude of banal
theories based on the principle of egalitarianism: it is
the compromise, agreement, and conspiracy among the
members of the privileged minority to the detriment of
the lower classes. Our appraisal of the modern democratic
form, which is based on the holy charter of the British,
French, and American revolutions, is no different. Modern
democracy is a technique which provides the best
political conditions for the capitalist oppression and
exploitation of the workers. It replaces the old network
of feudal oppression by which capitalism itself was
suffocated, but only to exploit in a way which is new and
different, but no less intense or extensive.
Our interpretation of the present totalitarian phase of
the bourgeois epoch is fundamental in regard to this
point. In this phase the parliamentary forms, having
played out their role, tend to disappear and the
atmosphere of modern capitalism becomes anti-liberal and
anti-democratic. The tactical consequence of this correct
evaluation is that any call to return to the old
bourgeois democracy characteristic of rising capitalism
is opposed to the interests of the working class; it is
reactionary and even "anti-progressive".
* * *
We will now take up the second aspect of the democratic
critique. This aspect is not inspired by the dogmas of an
inter-class and above-class democracy but instead says
basically the following: it is well and good to establish
the proletarian dictatorship and to do away with any
scruples in the repression of the rights of the defeated
bourgeois minority; however once the bourgeoisie in
Russia was deprived of all rights, the degeneration of
the proletarian state occurred because the rules of
representation were violated "within" the working class.
If an elective system truly functioning according to the
majority principle had been established and respected in
the base organisations of the proletariat (the soviets,
the unions and the political party), with every decision
made on the basis of the numerical outcome of a "truly
free" vote, then the true revolutionary path would have
been automatically maintained and it would have been
possible to ward off any degeneration and any danger of
the abusive, suffocating domination by the ignoble
"Stalinist clique".
At the heart of this widely accepted viewpoint is the
idea that each individual, solely due to the fact that he
or she belongs to an economic class (i.e. that he finds
himself in particular relationships in common with many
others with respect to production) is consequently
predisposed to acquire a clear class "consciousness", in
other words to acquire that body of ideas and
understandings which reflect the interests, the
historical path and the future of his class. This is a
false way of understanding Marxist determinism because
the formation of consciousness is something which,
although certainly linked to the basic economic
conditions, lags behind them at a great distance in time
and has a field of action that is much more restricted.
For example, many centuries before the development of
the historical consciousness of the bourgeois class, the
bourgeois, the tradesman, the banker, and the small
manufacturer existed and fulfilled essential economic
functions, but had the mentality of servants and
accomplices of the feudal lords. A revolutionary tendency
and ideology slowly formed among them however and an
audacious minority began to organise itself in order to
attempt to conquer power.
Just as it is true that some members of the aristocracy
fought for the bourgeois revolution, it is also true that
there were many members of the bourgeoisie who, after the
conquest of power in the great democratic revolutions,
not only retained a way of thinking but also a course of
action contrary to the general interests of their own
class, and militated and fought with the counter-
revolutionary party.
Similarly, while the opinions and consciousness of the
worker are formed under the influence of his or her
working and material living conditions, they are also
formed in the environment of the whole traditional
conservative ideology in which the capitalist world
envelopes the worker.
This conservative influence is becoming increasingly
stronger in the present period. It is not necessary to
list again the resources which are available not only for
the systematic organisation of propaganda through modern
techniques, but also for the actual centralised
intervention in economic life through the adoption of
numerous reformist measures and state intervention which
are intended to satisfy certain secondary needs of the
workers and which in fact often have a concrete effect on
their economic situation.
For the crude and uneducated masses, the old
aristocratic and feudal regimes needed only the church to
fabricate servile ideologies. They acted on the rising
bourgeoisie, however, primarily through their monopoly
over the school and culture. The young bourgeoisie was
consequently compelled to sustain a great and complex
ideological struggle which the literature presents as a
struggle for the freedom of thought but which in fact
concerned the superstructure and a fierce conflict
between two forces who were organised to defeat one
another.
Today world capitalism in addition to the church and
schools, disposes of an endless number of other forms of
ideological manipulation and countless methods for
forming a so-called "consciousness".
It surpasses the old regimes, both quantitatively and
qualitatively, in the fabrication of falsehoods and
deceits. This is true not only in that it broadcasts the
most absurd doctrines and superstitions but also in that
it informs the masses in a totally false way about the
countless events in the complexity of modern life.
In spite of this tremendous arsenal of our class enemy
we have always maintained that within the oppressed class
an antagonistic ideology and doctrine would form and
would achieve a greater and greater clarity as the
economic development itself sharpens the conflict between
the productive forces and the relations of production and
as the fierce struggle between different class interests
spreads. This perspective is not founded on the argument
that given the fact that the proletarians outnumber the
bourgeois, the sum total of their individual views and
conceptions would prevail over that of the enemy due to
their greater numerical weight.
We have always maintained that this clarity and
consciousness is not realised in an amorphous mass of
isolated individuals. It is realised instead in
organisations which emerge from the undifferentiated
mass, in resolute minorities who join together beyond
national boundaries following the line of the general
historical continuity of the movement. These minorities
assume the function of leading the struggle of the
masses; the greater part of the masses on the other hand
are pushed into this struggle by economic factors well
before they develop the same strength and clarity of
ideas that is crystallised in the guiding party.
This is why a count of the votes cast by the entire
working class mass (supposing such a thing were possible)
would not exclude an outcome favourable to the counter-
revolution even in a situation which would be conducive
to a forward advance and a struggle under the leadership
of the vanguard minority. Even a general and widespread
political struggle which ends with the victorious
conquest of power is not sufficient for the immediate
elimination of the whole complex of traditional
influences of bourgeois ideology. The latter not only
continues to survive throughout the whole social
structure within the country of the victorious revolution
itself, but continues to act from outside with a massive
deployment of all the modern means of propaganda of which
we have spoken before.
It is, of course, of great advantage to break the state
machinery, to destroy all the old structures for the
systematic fabrication of bourgeois ideology (such as the
church, the school and other countless associations) and
to take control over all the major means of diffusing
ideas, such as the press, the radio, the theatre, etc.
However all this is not enough. It must be completed by a
socio-economic condition: the rapid and successful
eradication of the bourgeois form of production. Lenin
was well aware that the necessity of permitting the
continued existence (and in a certain sense the
flourishing) of the family management of the small
peasant farms meant that a whole area would be left open
to the influence of the selfish and mercantile bourgeois
psychology, to the anti-revolutionary propaganda of the
priest, and in short to the play of countless counter-
revolutionary superstitions. The unfavourable
relationship of forces, however, left no other choice.
Only in conserving the force, strength and firmness of
the armed power of the industrial proletariat was it
possible to make use of the revolutionary impetus of the
peasant allies against the shackles of the agrarian
feudal regime and at the same time guard against the
danger of a possible revolt by the middle peasants, such
as occurred during the civil war under Denikin and
Kolchak.
The erroneous position of those who want to see the
application of arithmetic democracy within the working
class, or within certain class organisations, can thus be
traced back to a false appreciation of Marxist
determinism.
We have already shown that it is incorrect to believe
that in each historical period each of the opposing
classes has corresponding groups which profess theories
opposed to the other classes. Instead the correct thesis
is that in each historical epoch the doctrinal system
based on the interests of the ruling class tends to be
professed by the oppressed class, much to the advantage
of the former. He who is a slave in the body is also a
slave in the mind. The old bourgeois lie is precisely to
pretend that we must begin with the liberation of the
intellect (a method which leads to nothing and costs
nothing for the privileged class), while instead we must
start with the physical liberation of the body.
It is also erroneous to establish the following
progression of determinisms with respect to the famous
problem of consciousness: influence of economic factors,
class consciousness, class action. The progression
instead is the reverse: influence of economic factors,
class action, class consciousness. Consciousness comes at
the end and, in general, after the decisive victory.
Economic necessity unites and focuses the pressure and
energy of all those who are oppressed and suffocated by
the forms of a given productive system. The oppressed
react, they fight, they hurl themselves against these
forms. In the course of this clash and this battle they
increasingly develop an understanding of the general
conditions of the struggle as well as its laws and
principles, and a clear comprehension of the program of
the class struggle develops.
For decades we have been reproached for wanting a
revolution carried out by those who are unconscious.
We could have responded that provided that the
revolution sweeps away the mass of horrors created by the
bourgeois regime and provided that the terrible
encirclement of the productive masses by bourgeois
institutions which oppress and suffocate them is broken,
then it would not bother us in the least if the decisive
blows were delivered even by those who are not yet
conscious of the aim of the struggle.
Instead, we left Marxists have always clearly and
emphatically insisted on the importance of theory in the
working class movement, and we consequently have
constantly denounced the absence of principles and the
betrayal of these by the right opportunists. We have
always maintained the validity of the Marxist conception
which considers the proletariat even as the true
inheritor of modern classical philosophy. Let us explain.
The struggle of the bourgeois usurers, colonial settlers
and merchants was paralleled by an attack by the critical
method against the dogmas of the church and the ideology
of the authority of divine right; there was a revolution
which appeared to be completed in natural philosophy
before it was completed in society. This resulted from
the fact that, of those forms which had to be destroyed
in order for the capitalist productive forces to develop,
not the least difficult to break down was the scholastic
and theocratic ideological system of the middle ages.
However, after its political and social victory, the
bourgeoisie became conservative. It had no interest in
directing the weapon of the critique, which it had used
against the lies of Christian cosmology, to the area of
the much more pressing and human problem of the social
structure. This second task in the evolution of the
theoretical consciousness of society fell to a new class
which was pushed by its own interests to lay bare the
lies of bourgeois civilisation. This new class, in the
powerful dialectical vision of Marx, was the class of the
"wretched artisans", excluded from culture in the middle
ages and supposedly elevated to a position of legal
equality by the liberal revolution; it was the class of
manual labourers of big industry, uneducated and all but
illiterate.
The key to our conception lies precisely in the fact
that we do not consider the seat of consciousness to be
the narrow area of the individual person and that we well
know that, generally speaking, the elements of the mass
who are pushed into struggle cannot possess in their
minds the general theoretical outlook. To require such a
condition would be purely illusory and counter-
revolutionary. Neither does this task of elaborating the
theoretical consciousness fall to a band or group of
superior individuals whose mission is to help humanity.
It falls instead to an organism, to a mechanism
differentiated within the mass, utilising the individual
elements as cells that compose the tissue and elevating
them to a function made possible only by this complex of
relationships. This organism, this system, this complex
of elements each with its own function, (analogous to the
animal organism with its extremely complicated systems of
tissues, networks, vessels, etc.) is the class organism,
the party, which in a certain way defines the class faced
with itself and gives the class the capacity to make its
own history.
This whole process is reflected in the most diverse
ways with respect to the different individuals who
statistically belong to the class. To be more specific,
we are not surprised to find side by side in a given
situation the revolutionary and conscious worker, the
worker who is still a total victim of the conservative
political influences and who perhaps even marches in the
ranks of the enemy, the worker who follows the
opportunist currents of the movement, etc.
And we would have no conclusions to automatically draw
from a vote among the working class that would indicate
the following of each of these various positions -
assuming that such a vote was actually possible.
* * *
It is only too well established that the class party,
both before and after the conquest of power, is
susceptible of degeneration in its function as a
revolutionary instrument. It is necessary to search both
for the causes of this serious phenomenon of social
pathology and for the means to fight it. However it only
follows from what has been said above that the method of
voting cannot guarantee the correctness of the Party's
orientation and directives, regardless of whether this
voting is done by militants of the party or by a much
wider circle encompassing the workers who belong to the
unions, the factory organisations or even the
representative organs of a political nature, such as the
soviets or workers councils.
The history of the working class movement shows
concretely that such a method has never led to any good
and has never prevented the disastrous victories of
opportunism. In all the conflicts between tendencies
within the traditional socialist parties before World War
I, the right-wing revisionists always argued against the
radical Marxists of the left that they (the right wing)
were much more closely tied to the wide strata of the
working class than the narrow circle of the leadership of
the political party. The opportunist currents had their
main support in the parliamentary leaders of the party
who disobeyed the party's political directives and
demanded a free hand to collaborate with the bourgeois
parties. They did so under the pretext that they had been
elected by the mass of proletarian voters who far
outnumbered the proletarians who belonged to the party
and elected the party's political leadership. The union
leaders who belonged to the party practised the same
collaboration on the union level as the parliamentary
leaders did on the political level. They refused the
discipline of the class party, using the justification
that they represented all the unionised workers who
greatly outnumbered the party's militants. In their haste
to ally with capitalism (something which culminated in
their support for the first imperialist war) neither the
parliamentary possibilists nor the union bureaucrats
hesitated, in the name of the workerism and labourism
they proudly flaunted, to deride those groups who brought
forwards the true class politics within the party and to
brand these groups as intellectuals and sometimes even as
non-proletarians.
The history of Sorelian syndicalism also shows that the
method of direct representation of the rank and file
worker does not have left results and does not lead to
the preservation of a truly revolutionary orientation. At
a certain period this school of anarcho-syndicalism had
seemed to some to be a true alternative to the
degeneration of the social-democratic party which had
taken the road of renouncing direct action and class
violence. The Marxist groups which later converged in the
Leninist reconstruction of the Third International
rightly criticised and condemned this seemingly radical
orientation. They denounced it for abandoning the only
unifying class method which could surmount the narrowness
of the individual trade and of the everyday conflicts
limited to economic demands. Even if physically violent
means of struggle were used, this orientation leads to
the denial of the position of revolutionary Marxism,
because for Marxism every class struggle is a political
struggle and the indispensable instrument of this
struggle is the party.
The justness of this theoretical polemic was confirmed
by the fact that even revolutionary syndicalism sank in
the crisis of the war and passed into the ranks of social
patriotism in the various countries.
Now, in regards to the action of the party after the
revolutionary victory, we will turn to the major episodes
of the Russian Revolution which shed the greatest light
and provide us with the best experience.
We reject the critique which claims that the disastrous
degeneration of Leninist revolutionary politics into the
present Stalinist policies was brought about in the
beginning by the excessive predominance of the party and
its central committee over the other working class
organisations. We reject the illusory viewpoint that the
whole degenerative process could have been contained if a
vote among the various base organisations had been used
as the means to decide both the make-up of the hierarchy
and the major changes in the politics of the proletarian
state. The problem of the degeneration cannot be
comprehended without connecting it to the question of the
socio-economic role of the various working class organs
in the process of the destruction of the old economy and
of the construction of the new.
Unions undoubtedly constitute and for a long period
have constituted a basic area of struggle in the
development of the revolutionary energy of the
proletariat. But this has been possible with success only
when the class party has carried on a serious work within
the unions in order to shift the concentration of energy
from narrow intermediate objectives to general class
aims. The trade union, even as it evolved into the
industrial union, finds limits to its dynamic because
within it there exist different interests between the
various categories and groups of workers. There are even
greater limits to its action as capitalist society and
the capitalist state pass through the three successive
historical phases: the prohibition of trade organisations
and strikes; the toleration of autonomous trade
organisations; and finally the conquest of the trade
unions and their imprisonment in the bourgeois system.
Even under a solidly established proletarian
dictatorship, the union cannot be considered as an organ
which represents the workers in a fundamental and stable
way. In this social period conflicts between the various
trades in the working class can still exist. The basic
point is that the workers only have reason to make use of
the union as long as the working class power is compelled
to tolerate, in certain sections, the temporary presence
of employers; with the disappearance of the latter due to
the advance of socialist development, all content of
union action is lost. Our conception of socialism is not
the substitution of the state boss for the private boss.
However if the relationship were such in the transition
period, then in the supreme interests of revolutionary
politics it could not be admitted as a principle that the
employer state must always give in to the economic
pressure of the workers' unions.
We won't go further in this involved analysis, for at
this point we have already sufficiently explained why we
left Communists do not admit that the unionised mass
would be allowed to exert an influence on revolutionary
politics through a majority vote.
Now let us consider the factory councils. We must
remember that this form of economic organisation, which
at first appeared to be much more radical than the union,
went on to lose al