The readers of the Sun may not have been aware of it, but when their man in the Falklands sent in his reports, couched as they were in glorious yobspeak (“Up Yours, Galtieri”), he was making his small contribution to bolstering a seriously misguided concept of history.
It is an established, popular notion that wars spring from the personal idiosyncrasies and failings of political leaders. In some cases, those leaders are supposed to be insatiably belligerent — like Galtieri. In other cases, they are described as bloodthirsty and genocidal — like Hitler or Menachem Begin. According to this theory, if there had been no Galtieri and no junta, there would have been no war over the Falklands. More peaceable leaders would never have tried to take by force that which was not theirs by “right”. On this theory, the Falklands war was something of an historical accident.
At home, we have seen this notion at work also in the case of the rail strikes by ASLEF and the NUR. These strikes, we were told, were the work of a minority of unreasonable, restless militants. Without them, the railways would operate smoothly, as workers and management co-operated to the benefit of everyone. By these standards, the rail strikes were also accidental.
Then there is the example of Margaret Thatcher, who is the butt of much anger as a stubborn, prejudiced and callous adherent to policies which. she insists, will be good for us even if they kill us in the process. Three million unemployed, and the intensifying pressure on workers’ living standards, are attributed to the historical misfortunes of Thatcher’s obduracy. Without her, we hear, there would be less unemployment — or even none at all — and easier, fuller lives for everyone.
But while it is true that people have a crucial influence on the course of history, and while there are important historical factors which might loosely be described as “accidents”, the fact is that history is basically not to be understood in such terms. The process of social development from the most primitive of societies to the present day has only one valid interpretation and that is as a continuous, predictable, evolution along a discernible course. On that concept, we not only understand what has happened in the past; we can foresee with some confidence what is likely to happen in the future.
The Falklands crisis did not spring solely from the determined belligerence of a handful of South American militarists. Latterly the Islands have assumed an increasing importance in the overall strategy of Argentinian capitalism, complicated by the possible presence of rich oil fields and the fact that historically the Falklands issue has been cynically used to stifle the realities of wage slavery in Argentina under a blanket of patriotism. The British ruling class, far from losing sleep over the “paramount” wishes of the Falklanders, have for decades been negotiating to pass the Islands over to Argentinian rule. This policy was no accident; it fitted in with the reality of Britain’s place in the conflicts of world capitalism.
The rail strikes cannot be explained in romantic terms, of militants against the true interests of the railwaymen. Workers on the railways, like those in other industries, were resisting a downward pressure on their wages and working conditions. Perhaps their effort was badly timed; when there is high unemployment strikes can have little muscle behind them. Perhaps the abrupt climb-down by the NUR was their acknowledgement that the time was not propitious. But in historical terms it was another incident in the continuing class struggle of capitalism and it will not be the last of its kind, as one side or the other takes advantage of the current conditions of the labour market.
The policies of the Thatcher government are not basically different from those of Callaghan, Wilson, Heath, Macmillan . . . Every government has to contest with the working class; that is part of their function as the administrative arm of the capitalist class. In most cases, governments in post-war Britain have been weakened in their efforts by the strength the workers have drawn from relatively high employment and demand for labour power. This meant that attempts to keep wages in check — pay pauses, wage freezes, social contracts, whatever name they went under — were easily undermined and, sooner or later, modified or abandoned. As Thatcher came to power, the slump in world capitalism had reached such depths as to enable a government to impose policies which until then had had scant chance of success. Thatcher, then, is no accident; she personifies an especially repressive, exploitative phase in capitalist history.
The importance of understanding that capitalism does not progress through a series of accidents is in the fact that the next stage in human history — socialist society — will evolve from the contradictions of the present and will not therefore be accidental. Indeed, the very conditions for that change have been, and are being, historically laid down.
Capitalism has provided the human race with the possibility of producing an abundance of wealth. It has developed the means of production, distribution and communication to the point at which a society in which the human race can live in material security is immediately available to them.
Capitalism has refined the class structure so that there are now only two classes in society. It follows from this that the revolution to bring about the next stage in social evolution must be the work of one of those classes, with the object of emancipating that class.
It is the working class who historically fit that bill; they are the revolutionary class under capitalism. They are the class who are to be emancipated, the class who produce the wealth of capitalism but have no effective ownership. To fulfil their historical, revolutionary role the working class must understand capitalism, and the need to abolish it. They must also be aware of the effectiveness of replacing capitalism with a society of common ownership and free access. Capitalism itself, in the everyday experience of its inability to meet the needs of its people — its wars, famine, repression, disease — provides the motivation towards such an understanding. Historically, capitalism works towards its own demise.
History can be left to condition itself; the work of human beings is to make their history, albeit with many “accidents . . . surprises . . . mistakes. . . ." On those terms, the human race is moving to the historical step of establishing the first social order based on the interests of the majority.





