USSR — Land of Privilege (1976)

From the July 1976 issue of the Socialist Standard

With the ever-increasing participation of the Soviet Union in western trade, more information about the way the Russians live is coming to hand. We suspect that much of the information was always available but for their own purposes the western capitalist press suppressed the information which would have destroyed the myth they wished to keep alive, namely that Socialism was established there. They back it both ways. Friendship with the Soviet Union will produce pro-Russian propaganda, and will gloss over the numerous shortcomings in the Soviet system. At other times when there are differences of policy with the western powers, anti-Russian propaganda will expose and exaggerate these shortcomings. Eventually truth, like Hamlet’s ghost, will out, and now that the Russian workers have been indoctrinated in the cause of capitalism, the Soviet authorities will relax their censorship up to a point, because they cannot keep the lid on the kettle. Censorship makes an expensive form of administration.

The SPGB have always maintained that there is no essential difference in the class system in the Soviet Union from that elsewhere. The ruling class enjoy the same privileged existence, and use the same means to stay on top. The common features of western capitalism, exploitation of wage labour and production for profit, are present — with the resulting social inequality. All the propaganda by friend and foe alike cannot contradict or obscure this real situation.

One of the most obvious signs of social inequality is the wage differentials between the higher and the lower paid workers. The Daily Telegraph (2nd June 1976) on the occasion of the visit of the Soviet missile destroyer Obraztsovy drew attention to the enormous discrepancy in pay between officers and ratings. A Russian naval rating is paid £4.70 a month, and a full captain’s pay is £202.00 a month, more than 40 times greater than that of the ratings. This differential is quite considerable when it is taken into account that the Russians have over 8 million men in the armed forces. The British equivalent is that a captain receives approximately 8 times that of a rating.

Graft & Corruption

The city column of the Sunday Telegraph (18th April 1976), gave numerous examples of the corruption practised by high-ranking government officers, top scientists and members of the Soviet Politburo. Otari Lazfishiyili, the head of the government synthetics laboratory, was renowned for throwing lavish parties costing thousands of roubles. He enjoyed the luxury of a mansion, and had two country homes with swimming pools. Apparently he was running a black-market nylon business on the side, with over 100 accomplices. He made a million pounds before they caught him.

Another government official, the chief of the agricultural equipment purchase department in the Russian Ministry of Foreign Trade, Uri Sosnovsky, planned to take a cut of a 30-million rouble contract with a Swiss firm — he was hanged. The then Minister of Culture, Yekaterina Furtseva, was alleged to have spent about £60,000 in having an exclusive country dacha built for her daughter; this was in addition to the two owned by the Minister herself. The scandal lost her her seat on the Supreme Soviet in 1974. In the same article, a reference was made to petty corruption. Izvestia, the State newspaper, last year published figures to the effect that one-third of the relatively small number of private motorists in the USSR drove their cars on petrol paid for by the State. About 150 million gallons were estimated to be stolen or siphoned off from State vehicles.

There are as many instances of graft and corruption in the USSR as there are elsewhere. There is also a colossal black market. The fact that the penalties are high only underlines the extent of the problem. If the name of the game is capitalism, then the aim of the game is privilege. Those nearest the till are in a better position to get their hand in it, as are high Communist Party officials, government officials, and other socially privileged groups. The difference with the black marketeer, the corrupt official, and the stealer of state property, is that they do it through the back door. But many more obtain their privileges through the front door.

In a capitalist society people will always behave in a capitalist way, and Russia is no exception. Chief among those who receive and confer privileges through the front door are the Communist Party hierarchy. According to a book recently published, The Russians by Hedrick Smith, for three years Moscow correspondent of the New York Times, life at the top in Moscow is based on privilege (Sunday Times 16th May 1976). The most conspicuous symbols are the numerous grey-curtained chauffeur-driven cars containing VIPS doing their shopping and ignoring all traffic laws. There are special shops which sell Russian delicacies like caviar, smoked salmon, and the best canned sturgeon, vintage wines, and other luxuries well beyond the reach of the average Russian worker, and only accessible by special pass to the politically anointed. Perquisites are handed out according to rank; top leaders get home delivery, or use stores right inside the Kremlin, and the Supreme Soviet executive group have their special shop in the government buildings, Versenevsky Embankment Road. Soviet marshals, admirals, top scientists, senior editors of Pravda and Izvestia and other important publications, Lenin prize winners, actors, writers, dancers, economic managers — all have their special shops where cut-rate food is available, and these shops are debarred to the general Russian public.

Diplomats, trusted journalists, poets and the like, who have worked abroad, are issued with certificate roubles, a special currency, and can buy imported goods at bargain prices at the hard-currency Beryozka shops in Moscow. Many Moscow people are infuriated at the existence of these special stores because they don’t even accept Soviet currency. One white-collar worker fumed that it was a “violation of socialist principles”.

The cream of the élite, Politburo members and National secretaries, use black Zil saloon cars, hand-tooled and worth £40,000 apiece. In addition to car and shopping privileges, the Kremlin leaders enjoy special travel facilities, including a special airport Vmukoy 11. They also have exclusive health clinics, clubs, and even certain universities are regarded as the province of the government, for the offspring of the military and diplomatic élite. Many of the Party leaders have large guest houses. Brezhnev takes his guests boar-hunting. Many have mansions with exclusive grounds, private beaches, and recreational areas provided by the state, and their privacy ensured by state guards.

Top Dogs

Hedrick Smith tells a funny story about Brezhnev who was showing his mother round his various possessions and trying to impress her. Apparently this is a Muscovite joke. “He invited her up to see his town apartment. She looked nonplussed, so they sped off in his Zil to his dacha near Usovo, one previously used by Stalin and Khruschev, but still she said nothing. So he called for his personal helicopter and flew her straight to his hunting lodge at Zavidovo. There he escorted her to the banquet room, grandly displaying the big fireplace, his guns, and unable to restrain himself any longer asked: ‘Tell me Mama, what do you think?’. ‘Well’, she hesitated. ‘It’s good, Leonid. But what if the Reds come back?’ ”

The Soviet élite do not advertise their privileges, but the workers in Russia are left in no doubt that there is a special class of person upon whom everybody else dances attendance. All railroad trains, Aeroflot airlines, theatres and hotels, always reserve accommodation or seats in the event that these “important” people may drop in. Even state officials are given priority in any allocation of tickets at sports fixtures. Apparently at the 1972 hockey inter national competition between Canada and Russia, a Canadian diplomat was waiting to obtain his allocation of tickets when a young man walked in, went to the head of the queue, and identified himself as a member of the Central Committee. He asked for, and received, 3,000 tickets per game, a quarter of all the available seats. The diplomat commented that by the time other influential people got their cut, there was nothing left for the genuine hockey fan except perhaps a few dozen tickets forming a token box office. This, according to Smith, happens every time a big foreign sports team or cultural show visits Moscow. (Sunday Times 16th May 1976).

Nobody who really understands the nature of class society will be surprised at the way it operates in Russia. What is the point of a society based on the exploitation of workers for the purpose of private gain, unless the exploiter reaps the benefit? To say that no capitalist class exists in Russia is playing with words. The system is riddled with inequality from top to bottom, apart from the corruption and graft which are inseparable from government by dictatorship where officials wield immense power.

To describe the system as Socialist, or anything remotely connected with Socialism is a deliberate and, as we have seen, a calculated distortion of words and meaning. We can well understand the intense hostility from Russian diplomats and politicians against those who criticise the Soviet Union. It certainly is a good system for them. We cannot understand the almost pathetic adulation from the underprivileged propertyless dupes of the Left in this country who look to the USSR as the “socialist oasis” in a capitalist paradise. This confuses the issue of Socialism, and to that extent holds back the genuine revolutionary movement.

Jim D'Arcy

Back to the USSR? (1996)

TV Review from the July 1996 issue of the Socialist Standard

Despite attempts by both the Tory Party and the BBC hierarchy to stifle its investigative reporting. Panorama has lost none of its cutting edge. On Monday 10 June, Jane Corbin filed an excellent documentary report on the situation in Russia and the resurgence in support for the Russian Communist Party. By the time you read this the outcome of the Russian presidential elections will of course be known— what is almost certain is that if Communist Party leader Gennady Zyuganov doesn’t beat that arch “democrat" Boris Yeltsin, he will nonetheless have come close to doing so.

The Communist Party, banned after the 1991 attempted coup but since legalised again, is now a real political force to be reckoned with. Its programme of state control, agricultural "collectivisation" and Russian nationalism has attracted millions of Russian workers disheartened by the failures associated with the move towards a more private enterprise-based capitalist economy. The reason for their dismay at conditions in modern Russia is obvious. Over six million Russians are officially unemployed. industrial production has plummeted, real wages have fallen catastrophically for most and the shelves are emptier in many shops than they were in the worst days of the old regime. In addition. Russia is now plagued by crime, gangsterism, prostitution, drug abuse and spreading epidemics. The Russian working class, and what remains of the peasantry, have clearly sunk into the pit and Panorama demonstrated that few apart from the rich capitalists and aspiring petty-bourgeoisie have benefited from the move towards the free market.

In view of this it is hardly surprising that millions long for a return to the "old days" of state subsidies, guaranteed minimum wages and state repression of criminal elements. The yearnings of these workers are often accompanied by nationalism and anti-semitism, together with an indulgence in conspiracy theories about international banking cartels, the United Nations and the role of the CIA in domestic Russian affairs. Gennady Zyuganov himself displays virtually all of these tendencies and. as such, can be said to be a man truly in touch with his core supporters. He is an unrepentant Stalinist among unrepentant Stalinists whose main priority is the reformation of the USSR and the re-establishment of "socialism"—in reality the re-awakening of almost full-blooded state capitalism and the extension of the Russian empire.

State capitalist class

Zyuganov represents more than just the discontented mass of Russian workers though—in fact he only represents them subjectively, in terms of their objective interests he doesn't represent them at all. What he represents instead is the old state capitalist class built up under Communist rule with its power base in the bureaucracy and military. Part of this social strata took the opportunity, on the disintegration of the old regime, to use its privileged position to turn itself into a private-enterprise bourgeoisie, but as this wasn't possible for them all. the others want to return to the old nomenklatura system of state privilege. These will be the real beneficiaries of any return to state capitalism under the dictatorial rule of the Communist Party.

The dreams of old Stalinists notwithstanding, state capitalism offered the working class nothing but poverty and repression under the old system and a return to it will not improve their situation one bit. Indeed, many of the problems of the Russian economy were first kindled during the days of the USSR, the system itself being so inefficient that it virtually collapsed under the weight of planned over-staffing, an unsustainable armaments programme and a declining rate of profit caused in large part by state subsidy of inefficient units of production. That the free market has not been able to solve Russia's problems comes as no surprise to us—it was something we warned Russian workers of at the time. But it is pleasing all the same for Panorama to have acknowledged this basic fact where others would have attempted to deny it with the smoke-screen of the return of private enterprise and the success of McDonalds.

Jane Corbin's report showed us some of the 25,000 who sleep homeless each night on the streets of Moscow and queue up every morning at the soup kitchens run by the Starvation Army. It highlighted the plight of those workers who have seen their incomes reduced to one fiftieth of the level they once were and who now only avoid starvation through eating potatoes grown on allotments. It revealed the barren shop shelves—barren that is of commodities most Russian workers would be unable to afford anyway.

Can it be any wonder that the benefits of the free market—so loudly trumpeted by the Western bourgeoisie—are imperceptible to the average Russian? Of course not, but there can be no solution in the old dreams either. State capitalism was the system which failed so pitifully before and there is no reason for believing it will, succeed now under Zyuganov or anybody else. That the Communists do not offer real communism or socialism at all is the great tragedy for the Russian working class—for it is more apparent than ever that only production for use and free access to wealth can put an end to the poverty, insecurity and decadence which are expressions of capitalism everywhere, not least of all in Russia today.

Dave Perrin

The Russian capitalist class (1949)

From the December 1949 issue of the Socialist Standard

If Russia is a capitalist country how is it that its ruling class does not adopt the same idle, luxurious and pleasure-hunting habits as the capitalists of Western countries? This is a problem that puzzles many people, although the answer is a relatively simple one.

Before 1917 Russia was mainly a country of small farming. Only a few million out of a population of 180,000,000 were employed in industrial production, and of these only a portion was employed in modern factories (largely owned by foreign capital) similar to the most highly developed factories in the West. Thus there were a relatively small number of modern factories, employing large bodies of workers, existing like oases in a desert of backward conditions.

When the war broke out in 1914 hundreds of thousands of peasants (who provided nearly all the soldiers) were forced to leave the farms and fight on distant fronts. This, together with Russian defeats, internal troubles and the ravages of German and allied armies, brought chaos in to agriculture and industry, reducing to a minimum the capacity of the country to meet even the elementary needs of its large population. This was the appalling position when the Bolsheviks captured power in 1917 and set about their task of converting Russia into a first-class Capitalist State.

When production is so low that there is no surplus above bare needs (and in Russia in the early years, as well as at intervals later, there was not even enough necessaries to go round, thousands dying of starvation) all of the population must work. There is a division of labour that is portentous. One part of the population, the vast mass, must be employed in the actual production of the necessaries of life whilst another part, the relatively small minority, must look after the direction of affairs. This latter work was taken over by the Bolsheviks and was both arduous and nerve-racking. Owing to tradition, Russia's immaturity and other influences, this direction of affairs involved the building up of a bureaucratic machine employing thousands of people in unproductive activities such as propaganda, secret police and so forth. The more Russian industry expanded the greater grew this bureaucratic machine, the larger the mass of people who were interested in its continued existence ana expansion and the richer the prizes for those at the top.

Slowly and painfully, with many setbacks and false starts, Russia got upon the road to large-scale production. In this process the surplus over bare needs (and often even more than that) was ploughed back into industry to help on expansion. As industry developed, little by little some of the surplus, instead of being ploughed back, was diverted, under various subterfuges, to increase the comfort of the class that was directing affairs, until the surplus skimmed off reached a point where this class could enjoy a certain amount of luxury whilst the mass still lived at a low standard. But the ruling class and its hangers-on was itself expanding into a huge bureaucracy whose very size and precarious position still limited the possibility of even those at the top enjoying a life of idleness.

However the bureaucracy is sorting itself out into grades. A relatively small group which includes those

who have acquired wealth directly through agriculture, industry and the professions—the “Soviet millionaires”—now enjoy the luxuries of the wealthy in the West; splendid houses in town and country, fine motor cars, costly furs, sumptuous feasts and a host of privileges provided by the surplus labour extracted from the Russian workers. What this means to even the small fry of the Russian bureaucratic machine is indicated by the following quotation: —

“Comrade Eudoxia Uralova laughed long and loud. I had asked this Russian delegate to the United Nations whether she cooks. T

'I am Byelo-Russia's Minister of Education,’ she said. ‘I have no time for cooking. I have two servants, a cook and a maid.’

Comrade Uralova is a cheerful, friendly woman of 43. She received her Cabinet appointment for her work in advancing social and educational progress.

In Minsk, the Byelo-Russian capital. Comrade Uralova lives in a six-room flat with her husband, a Red Army colonel. They have no children.

Each day she eats a full 'British type’ breakfast at 8.30. From nine till ten she takes a piano lesson, then is driven to her office by a chauffeur. 'I have my own car,’ says Comrade Uralova, ‘but am not a good driver, so 1 keep it for pleasure trips.' (Evening Standard, 19.1.1946.)

The class that took over the direction of affairs in Russia has grown into a privileged and wealthy class. A capitalist class similar to the Western model is emerging, based on the State ownership of industry, and this class sees in the idle parasites of the West the goal of its ambition and the picture of its future. It is between this class and the mass of the population that the class struggle in Russia is waged. The constant purges, the segregation of sections of the population, the limit on emigration, the frenzied propaganda against the West and the imperialist expansion programmes are all echoes of this class struggle.

Gilmac.

Running Commentary: Russia yawns (1982)

The Running Commentary Column from the December 1982 issue of the Socialist Standard

In face of the conspicuous indifference of the Russian working class, the weeping news-reader announced that their leader, Leonid Brezhnev, was dead. Within a week the non-weeping masses were told to mop up their tears, for a new Tsar (official title: General Secretary of the Communist Party) had been appointed by the Politburo. Like the dictator who preceded him. Yuri Andropov. ex-KGB chief and Russian ambassador in Budapest in 1956, will preside over the Russian state capitalist empire. All leaders, be they elected like Thatcher and Reagan, or installed by totalitarian regimes, like Andropov and Jaruzelski. can only rule within the limitations of the anti-social profit system. Brezhnev’s tyrannical policies, which sent dissidents to the freezing wastelands of Siberia or the mind- manipulating confines of psychiatric asylums, were not the expression of his own hatred of the working class, but of capitalism’s inherent inability to satisfy working class needs and still produce maximum profits.

The new leader of Russian capitalism lives in a luxury apartment at Kurtuzov Prospekt — a home which is said to compare favourably with any owned by the richest capitalist parasites. How does he get his privilege and luxury? Simply by being one of the class of Party bureaucrats who control the state, which formally owns the means of wealth production and distribution. In short, Andropov and his fellow Communist Party dictators over the proletariat, live off the fruits of the labour of the Russian working class. To speak of such a system as socialist — as do certain gullible folk on the Left — is to totally distort the meaning of the word.

Capitalism is characterised by wage labour and capital, social phenomena which clearly exist in Russia. The only difference between Andropov's capitalism and Reagan’s is that in the latter capital tends to be privately owned and controlled and workers have some opportunity to choose their leaders, whereas under the former the state owns and controls most capital and workers have very limited democratic opportunities.

Within the field of capitalist politics, the so-called Left wing favours state capitalism and the Right wing prefers private capitalism. Both are prepared to accept either form of capitalism when the needs of profit-making dictate: for example, for all his rhetorical commitment to “the Soviet system” (state capitalism) Brezhnev was always happy to trade with the West. Whatever new policies Andropov may introduce, the capitalists of the West may rest assured that he will not cease to involve the Russian state in international commercial competition in which the wage slaves always lose.

Socialists oppose capitalism in ail its forms; we oppose it for the simple reason that it has outlived its usefulness as a way of organising society. Opposing the idea that there must always be leaders and led. socialists regard the passing of Brezhnev and the inauguration of his successor as of no consequence to the working class. The class which produces all social wealth need not mourn the death of one of those who legally steals that wealth from us. 

Steve Coleman

Workers versus the “Vanguard” (1981)

From the November 1981 issue of the Socialist Standard

In signing the Gdansk agreement in September 1980, the Polish government promised to allow independent trade unions, the right to strike, access to the mass media, free Saturdays, and to abolish the nomenklatura system by which the PUWP (the Communist Party) controls all important appointments. But paper promises and piecrust pledges are easily made, easily broken.

Every concession pledged on paper had to be struggled for. Last October the independent trade union was still being denied legal recognition. Free Saturdays and access to the mass media were still denied in January, five months after the agreement. When another strike was threatened, within ten days the number of work-free Saturdays was increased from 25 to 38 still less than originally agreed. Later the government “conceded” to the new unions 0.8 per cent of TV time and 0.2 per cent of radio time, subject to censorship.

Such concessions were wrung with difficulty from a reluctant government using every available form of dirty trick, provocation and intimidation. The union’s experience was: “Members are fully aware that . . . the only successes they had so far were in those instances where Solidarity was willing to stand firm. In all other cases there was no progress at all.” [1]

The Roots of Solidarity

“Nothing starts from square one: everything has roots in another time and another place”, said Andrzej Wajda. There were memories of the Poznan revolt when Gomulka came to power in 1956, and of the 1970 demonstrations over food prices and low pay, when Gierek came to Gdansk. “Just like the others I believed that they were real tears that ran down the gentleman’s cheeks as he spoke, and that while he remained Minister of Internal Affairs there would be no bloodshed in Poland.” [2]

But tanks attacked in Gdansk, in Gdynia strikers returning to work were fired at from helicopters, and in Szczeczin “the militia shot at random into the dense crowd of shipyard workers . . . They began taking the wounded away, and from that moment I became a union activist . . . We left the shipyard having won nothing . . . All that changed were the authorities at the top.” [3]

Gierek’s new economic policy brought a boom: foreign credits enabled industry to import machinery and expand. Each year 500,000 people left the countryside for the cities. In agriculture, the government discriminated against “family farms”. Private farmers were denied machinery and fertiliser, and the the state fixed prices too low for them to make a profit. The increasingly unprofitable farms are manned by an ill-equipped and ageing population, a third of whom are over sixty.

The tide turned in 1975, with rising prices and workers’ protests. Gierek introduced a new Labour Code, whose Article 52 was used in 1976 as an “anti-strike” law. He also changed the Constitution, stressing that “the Party is the leading political force in society”. This gave birth to an ‘‘unofficial opposition.”

In 1976 higher food prices caused strikes and demonstrations. Many workers were beaten, jailed or sacked. Some—like Lech Walesa—were blacklisted. In reaction to police brutality, KOR—the Workers’ Self-Defense Committee—was formed, and succeeded in getting an amnesty next year for all the jailed workers. NOWA, an independent publishing house, was set up to break the state’s “publication and information monopoly”. The number of uncensored publications increased. Along with other workers’ journals, the fortnightly Robotnik (The Worker) had a growing circulation from 1977.

In 1979 Robotnik published a Charter of Workers’ Rights, declaring that: “We have entered upon a course of action whose long-term aim is the creation of a self-defense system for employees, first and foremost, independent trade unions”. The Charter argued that the official trade unions did not protect workers, that Gierek’s 1975 Labour Code was used as an anti-strike law, and urged workers wherever possible to set up “free trade union committees”. [4]

Workers’ Grievances. . . .

As exports to the West dwindled due to the recession, repayment of Gierck's foreign loans became increasingly difficult. This brought pressure on the workers. Poles had the longest working week in Europe-forty-eight hours. The four-shift system caused serious mining accidents, due to lack of maintenance. In October 1979, at least 66 miners died in 4 accidents in pits using this hated system. [5]

Where health and safety were concerned, the official unions were as callous as management: “these matters were totally neglected by the old unions. Bosses ordered the workers to do jobs that could damage their health: in theory it was possible to refuse but in practice there was always someone else willing to do the job, and besides the bosses would take revenge.” [6]

Workers’ living standards worsened. There was a staggering increase in cases of TB, especially in the 23-25 age group. In Poland TB is still the main killer disease, reflecting poor food and housing. [7] The government admit that “nearly 2 million people are waiting for flats. The average time of waiting is 7 years, in many regions it exceeds 10 years”. [8]

Hunger was already a major problem last summer, made worse by hoarding and profiteering. One of the strikers’ “21 Demands” was for meat rationing. This summer’s hunger marches drew the world's attention to the fact that rationing did not end this man-made famine.

. . . . and the Gaffers

The official unions’ role was to enforce labour discipline by carrot-and-stick methods. For carrot, read the distribution of scarce goods, housing, welfare benefits, perks and privileges. For stick, read petty harassment, witholding benefits, fining workers and contriving dismissals. They acted as a branch of management against the workers’ interests.

Last summer the workers' anger boiled over: “the official trade unions have not only failed to defend our interests . . . they have been more hostile to the justified strike action than the Party and State organs.” Szydlak, chairman of the Central Trade Union Council, said, “we will not give up power, nor will we share it.” Their angry reply: “He wants to represent us without our consent . . . Our mandate is for him of no consequence.” [9]

At that time, Gierek was still preaching—like Callaghan, Thatcher and Co.—that “rises in the standard of living have to be earned.” Like his crocodile tears of 1970, this was a lie: just consider his standard of living. In only ten years as Party boss, he had acquired a “luxurious residence”. Gierkowka stands in 3,000 acres. Outside, an illuminated fountain and a 2½ acre lake. Indoors, a swimming- pool, cinema, billiard-room and a grand reception-room, all paved with marble slabs. [10]

Corruption permeated the PUWP at all levels. In Walbrzych, officials used coal-mine materials to build themselves villas while “other materials were being ordered from abroad and charged to the mines while going straight into the officials’ private building activity”. The regional Party secretary, no less, was up to his neck in this embarrassingly entrepreneurial activity. [11]

Workers died because money was used for private profiteering instead of safety equipment! For over a decade, the “red Bourgeoisie” fattened itself unscrupulously. A top sociologist described the PUWP as full of “degenerate elements” for whom Party membership was “a springboard leading to riches, to positions of importance and power.” [12]

Every foreman, trade union official and factory manager owes his appointment to a Party committee. Through the nomenklatura system, these have the power to blacklist him from higher posts. If he wants to get on in his career, he will be only too eager to do the Party bosses any small favours they want. The nomenklatura system is still intact: today’s black-market profiteering in food in the starving cities is a consequence of this.

But even without corruption, no party running a state capitalist economy — whether as a dictatorship or as a lukewarm pretend democracy (the Party Congress reforms were only window-dressing) — can be expected to act in the interests of the working class, regarding our living and working conditions as a higher priority than profits. Governments are not philanthropic institutions; no reform will change this.

Strikes in a “socialist” country?

Sociologists, like politicians, were baffled by this theoretically impossible phenomenon: “what rational explanation could be found for the fact that the rightful owners of the means of production, and the people governing the country, rise up in revolt against themselves?” [13] So why do strikes happen, and not just in Poland? Russia, Ukraine, Rumania. East Germany — all so-called “socialist” countries have this problem. No sensible explanation can be found among Poland’s rulers but workers understand things better.

“The strike is the law of the downtrodden, who have been deprived of all other means of social action. It is a radical act of self-defence . . . The historical experience of the Polish People’s Republic clearly proves that the power apparatus does not represent the interests of the working class. (If it did, how can we explain the events of 1956, 1970, 1976 and 1980?). . . Between the power apparatus on the one side and labour on the other, a deep class conflict exists, which causes antagonisms and conflict in the social life of our country . . . (Labour’s interests are opposed to) the politico-state and economic apparatus, acting as a whole as a collective monopoly, as de facto private owners.” [14]

Together with this awareness that the wages system, under whatever label, is against the interests of workers, goes the knowledge that Poland’s “Socialism” is a fraud: “State ownership and social ownership of the means of production are two completely different concepts which should never be confused. The means of production may be owned by the state but this does not mean that they are thereby the social property of the working class.” [15]

From this point of view it follows that “the real liberation of the proletariat can only take place by means of the socialisation (something quite different from state ownership) of the means of production.” [16]

This is a minority viewpoint but one which has real support. Jednosc, the journal quoted, has had impressive support from local Szczeczin workers, especially the print workers, and by January this year its fortnightly print run reached 100,000 copies.

The Vanguard Party and “Dual Power”

“Solidarity” can only act as a trade union, to defend workers’ interests within the system. It gave up any chance of political action by signing the Gdansk Agreement which, instead of the workers’ demand for trade unions “free and independent of the party”, declared that “the new unions . . . will recognise the leading role of the PUWP in the state.” [17] 

However, as no political organisation genuinely represents workers’ interests, any organisation which purports to represent their interests takes on the role of an unofficial opposition, whether or not it organises as a political movement or even has a declared platform. As one Party member commented: “Solidarity represents all those who define themselves as ‘we’ against a Party and State defined as ‘them’. A system of dual power is gradually emerging.” [18]

Solidarity’s policy has been clear from the start: “in the cause of independence we will not link ourselves, let alone subordinate ourselves, to any political or social organisations.” [19] Yet the Government and its Moscow puppet-masters continually attack Solidarity as subversive enemies of the state. Such tactics are familiar to trade unionists here: Reds under the bed or CIA agents of Counter-Revolution, the same ploy used for the same purpose, to discredit union activists and prejudice public opinion against the unions.

Kania has made every effort to delay, minimise or renege on his signed agreements. Realising that — for the time being, at least — brute force, tanks or truncheons could not be used, the government strategy was to play for time while harassing, provoking or intimidating the union and its supporters.

The Chief Public Prosecutor circulated instructions on how to frame union activists. From his circular (leaked to Solidarity) we learn that the forces of “law and order” were in the habit of raiding workers’ homes to such an extent that “the large number of sequestrated objects — typewriters, duplicators, paper, and above all illegal publications — in some cases creates problems of storage”. Prosecutions were brought against workers distributing leaflets (“dropping litter in public places”) or wearing badges “without permission”. [20]

A Politburo member, Zabinski, privately reassured the security forces that Kania’s apparent concessions did not mean any underlying Wetness. There was a Machiavellian strategy behind the concessions:

“The aim was to quench the strikes, calm the nation and consider the situation later . . . (The workers' committees should) taste a little power: it will have a cooling effect on them.” Ending the four-shift system would cause redundancies: “these workers’ commissions are to suggest who is going to be dismissed from the mines. Let them do this untypical work . . . These inter-factory workers’ committees have to fire them. We have to involve them in a thousand problems.” He concluded: “We should see to it that, first, they do not get rid of Party members, second, that they do get rid of the ‘KOR’ people, and then the rest must be simply slowly broken up.” [21]

This strategy, whose failure is self-evident, is based on the special fear felt by all Bolsheviks when workers form an alliance with “intellectuals”. Like Lenin, Kania and his colleagues believe workers are helpless without intellectuals to lead them. Lenin wrote that “the history of all countries shows that by its own forces the working class can only arrive at a trade union consciousness.” [22] The corollary to this is that only if workers unite with “intellectuals” is there any risk to the powers-that-be.

In Poland the KOR intellectuals supported the militant workers, and vice versa. Did the result support Lenin’s view? In the Gdansk strike, the workers took the initiative and the KOR “experts” were much less militant than the workers. The “intellectuals” were moderates while “the workers were really very opposed to the system, to the point where they wouldn’t even touch it, still less reform it”. [23] The workers wanted a trade union that would be independent of the party. Negotiating behind closed doors, the experts presented them with a “definitely agreed” formula which acknowledged “the leading role of the Party”. The workers “were very annoyed ... (they) wanted to throw all the experts from the shipyards”. [23]

Lenin’s theory is insulting baloney. Workers can have a clear understanding of their real interests and of their actual strength when united and militant. The “experts” and KOR sympathisers were nervous of Russian intervention and more easily intimidated. (They were also more soft when appeals to the “national interest” were tried.) From fear of putting the cause of “free trade unions” at risk, they shackled the new unions with “the leading role of the Party”, which meant the continuance of the nomenklatura system.

One lesson of the Gdansk negotiations is that workers should do their own negotiating, openly. They are the experts.

The Self-Limiting Revolution

Socialists have a special interest in the development of independent trade union movements in totalitarian state capitalist countries. Embryo movements have sprung up in Russia, under enormous difficulties, and still operate underground, as used to be the case in Poland. [24]

In Poland the achievement has been greater, but — like Marx — we realise that “the real fruit of their battles lies, not in the immediate result, but in the ever- expanding union of the workers.” [25]

We are not uncritical of Solidarity. Its policy is made by leaders. It is influenced by the Catholic Church, an influence which gives the “national interest” a higher priority than class interest. It has taken up the cause of the peasant farmers whose demands — higher food prices and private ownership of land — are in conflict with Solidarity members’ need for cheaper food and, ultimately, for common ownership of all means of production, including land.

However it has established a strong organisation of at least 10 million members, voluntarily enrolled, without any “closed shop” agreements or coercion of any kind. It is capable of defending workers’ interests.

Its existence has demonstrated that state and party control of the media cannot forever stifle the voice of the common people, and that police brutality and draconian penalties cannot prevent determined, class-conscious workers from striking and organising on the industrial field.

But, even if all Solidarity’s demands become reality, not mere promises from a Party notorious for breaking them whenever expedient, Poland’s workers would remain wage-slaves. Solidarity is not a revolutionary organisation. It is a trade union, whose role is to defend workers interests within the wages system. Meanwhile the PUWP still holds political power, dictates economic policy, laws, and — the ultimate sanction — controls the police and armed forces which protect the property of the state and which can be used, have been used and may be used again, to “defend the national interest” against the working class.

The PUWP’s power-monopoly will continue until Poland’s workers organise themselves for a political struggle as effectively as they have organised themselves on the industrial field. There is still work to be done. But until they get up off their knees, stop genuflecting to Popes, Cardinals and suffering Saint Lech Walesa, stop saluting the national flag, become deaf to appeals about the “national interest”, and take their stand exclusively on their class interest, they will fall short of becoming a revolutionary movement. They will remain mere heroes of protest.

Charmian Skelton

References

[1] Solidarity communique. Jan. '81 (Information Centre for Polish Affairs)

[2] Anna Walentynowicz (Labour Focus on Eastern Europe, winter-spring '81)

[3] Stanislaw Wadolowski, vice-chairman of Szczeczin Solidarity (Labour Focus, ’81)

[4] Full text in Labour Focus on Eastern Europe, spring-autumn ’80

[5] PSC News (Polish Solidarity Campaign), March ’81.

[6] Interview with Two Gdynia Workers (Labour Focus, ’80)

[7] Solidarnosc Strike Bulletin, 28 Aug. (Labour Focus ’80)

[8] State of the Economy Report, July ’81 (Polish Press Agency)

[9] Solidarnosc Strike Bulletin. 20 Aug. (Labour Focus, *80)

[10] Information Centre for ' Polish Affairs, 14 May ’81

[11] Labour Focus ’81

[12] Prof. Markiewicz, Kultura 21 Sept. ’80 (Contemporary Poland, official digest of media and government statements)

[13] The same 

[14] Jednosc, no. 16, 12 Dec. ’80 (Labour Focus, ’81)

[15] Statement of the Inter-College Co-ordinating Committee of Solidarity (Szczeczin region), Jednosc no. 14, also printed in Kommunikat, the Warski shipyard workers’ bulletin (Labour Focus, ’81)

[16] Jednosc no. 11, 30 Oct. ’80 (Labour Focus, ’81)

[17] Full text of the “21 Demands” and the Gdansk Agreement (Labour Focus, ’80)

[18] Article by B. Rogowski, 14 Nov. ’80 (Labour Focus, ’80)

[19] Inter-Factory Founding Committee of the Independent Trade Unions of the Coastline, statement, 17 Sept. ’80, published through KOR (Information Centre for Polish Affairs)

[20] Full text in Labour Focus, ’80

[21] Transcript of secret tape published in The Free Unionist, 5 March ’81 — Information Centre for Polish Affairs

[22] Lenin, What Is To Be Done?

[23] Jadwiga Staniskia, Experts and the “Leading Role” — (Labour Focus, ’81). Her statement that workers disliked the “agreed formula” is supported by another “expert”, Geremek—interview in Que Faire Auiourd’hui? (no. 9)

[24] See Workers Against the Gulag, ’79 (Pluto Press)

[25] Communist Manifesto

What’s happening in China (1965)

From the November 1965 issue of the Socialist Standard

The so-called communist rulers of China are in trouble. They are trying to achieve two impossible feats; to make exploitation popular with the Chinese workers and to kid them along that the form of capitalism which is developing there is socialism.

The latest campaign to accomplish this is called the “Socialist Education Campaign”, now in full swing, which was recently commended by the Chinese premier as being “of great revolutionary and historical significance”. Such campaigns are no novelty in “communist” China, where the workers seem to need a lot of convincing.

Previous campaigns have been passed off as methods of getting rid of the remains of capitalism or as part of the building-up of a “communist” system of society, or as the eradication of specific errors and failings of the Old China. They were represented as a necessary process of cleaning up and modernising the social structure and they dealt largely with problems that were laid at the door of the old era.

But this time it is different, in that the government leaders have to deal with problems which, they frankly proclaim arise directly from the present system of society. The “Socialist Education Campaign” is teaching workers, both in industry and the civil service, to deal with the new problems caused by the creation of a modern, technically developed state from a recently backward country. It is this which enables Premier Chou-En-lai to assign “historical significance” to the current campaign.

To enable them to reconcile awkward facts with an incorrect interpretation of society, the Chinese have to be dosed with plenty of “communist” education.

One problem with which they have to deal is that of the new “managerial class”. Mao-Tze-tung, Chou-En-lai and the rest of the old die-hards of the Communist Party, were tough, unscrupulous but courageous labour leaders tested in battle and called upon for great personal sacrifices in prompting the Communist Party to the leadership of what they may have once believed was a different system of society.

But the old guard are getting older, and they are finding it difficult to select their successors from the ranks of the new business bureaucracy who seem to be taking their place. These young people are slick, well educated executive types who are rising to the top in the nationalised concerns and government departments. They have little understanding of political theory, little desire to make personal sacrifices, but, like business executives the world over, are ambitious to rise in the hierarchy and enjoy the luxuries which only the possession of money makes possible. Such is a thumb-nail sketch of one of the groups that the die-hards are trying to impregnate with so-called communist ideology. But the die-hards are as horrified at this developing class, as the swan was when it found it had hatched a duckling. Capitalist society develops along its own lines, irrespective of the muddled thinking of its apologists.

An Tzu-wen, Director of the Organisation Department of the Party’s Central Committee, considered the nature of some of these groups in some detail in an article which appeared in the Party journal Red Flag on 22/9/64 and which was reported in the China Quarterly April/June 1965. An is primarily concerned with the campaign to train successors to the present leadership. He distinguishes between the older cadres of pre-liberation vintage who have failed to adapt themselves to the technical and organisational development going on, and the younger ones who have not the political benefit of those who went through the Civil War.

It is from An’s article that it is possible to build up a picture of the various groups he sees developing around him. His criticisms have been publicised to the greatest extent possible in the Chinese national press and on the radio. He said that the gravest dilemma for the Chinese leaders may be the conflict between their own background and the need for modernisation in economic planning.

Chou-En-lai made it clear in his report last December that one of the main motives behind the “Socialist Education Movement’’ was the need to prepare the country for economic expansion. He speaks of the need for a “scientific and realistic approach”. An calls on the older cadres to adapt themselves and he describes the movement as “a mass movement for studying Marxist-Leninist and Mao Tse-tung ideology with emphasis in its flexible interpretation and application”.

The Chinese Government are training the new managerial class to a degree which must involve contact with the thinking of the outside world and they are at the same time inducing the old die-hards to work efficiently in the fervent atmosphere of industrial capitalism, misnamed “socialist expansion”.

Another section being “educated” are the Chinese followers of the Russian communist party. Since it now seems that many of the interests of the Chinese ruling class are opposed to those of .the Russian, Chinese supporters must be “re-educated” to enable them to make an intellectual somersault. China is living in a capitalist world jungle and must be prepared, in its own interests, to support a war against its erstwhile “comrades”. There must be no fifth column in the Chinese camp.

Another homegrown problem is the rise of the wealthy farmer, a new economic group since the seizure of governmental power by the Chinese “communists”. With their surpluses of commodity crops they have made a mockery of the food and clothing rationing which still obtains in China. The black market is now known as the free market and is officially recognised by the Government. Any of the rationed goods can be obtained at a higher price and this is part of a process whereby the rural rich are becoming richer. Universal rationing for all has become rationing by price, officially lauded by the authorities. This, of course, is the state of affairs to which the workers of the rest of the world are accustomed, whether they are starving in the backward countries or the “affluent” of western capitalism.

China has had a somewhat different history of social development to the West over the centuries, so that capitalism there is a little different from capitalism here in some of the details. But Chinese workers have basically the same economic interests as the workers here; and the so-called communist government there behaves domestically and in its foreign policies, like the capitalist power that in fact it is.

Frank Offord

Between the Lines: The Beggars' Tragic Opera (1992)

The Between the Lines column from the August 1992 issue of the Socialist Standard

The Beggars' Tragic Opera

Embarrassing. Condescending. Insulting. Unentertaining. Time-wasting. Infuriating. Boring. ITV Telethon (all day, Sunday 19 July) Semi-recognisable stars sing bad cover versions of bland songs. Cut to twenty seconds on the miseries of living with Alzheimer's Disease. Soft focus; sad classical music. Cut to the man from Kwik-Fit who plays the game of seeing how many times he can say Kwik-Fit and look benevolent within twenty seconds of prime commercial time. Donation: a few thousand lousy pounds. The cost of the same length of purchased commercial space; a lot more. Children with missing limbs are shown playing basketball. The audience cheer. Facially disfigured people plead for funds. The studio audience cheer and wave cheques. Silly little proles with buckets full of pennies scream in ecstasy as the scoreboard shows that five million pounds has been collected. Michael Aspel gives that horrible little grin. Five million pounds: how much to the class who own nothing; what a piss in the wind to the class who possess everything. Cut to the phones where kids donate their pocket money and the poor redistribute crumbs to the poor. Bring on the Chippendales. Forget the suffering and think of a hen night in Scunthorpe as the solution to society's problems. Final collection: fifteen million rotten pounds. Less than last year. Don't they know there’s a recession on? Who will take a collection for the wage slaves who are broke after donating two-hundred quid after one lager too many in the No-Hope Arms? Final shot: a line-up of camera-hungry celebs singing a worn-out American tear-jerker. ’There are mountains in our way. . .' The mountains are made of profit; those in need never get to the top. Telethon hands out sticking plaster to a few of those that fall along the way. Isn't that Cynthia Payne amongst the crew of swooning time-wasters? Well as long as it's for charity—and where was the Minister of Fun? Is this reviewer alone in finding the whole performance of commercialised begging, pumping the worker's guilt and expecting the propertyless to provide for the helpless, a hideous spectacle? Fortunately not. Several disabled workers protested outside the Telethon studio, indignant at a show which makes them objects of pity to be thrown crumbs to the accompaniment of hollow cheers. Fifteen million begged-for pounds; petty cash in the world of military madness. It is when the world is free from money that such offensive spectacles will be unnecessary.

Out with the old, in with the old

Panorama (BBC 1,9.30 pm, Monday. 13 July) was about how the old Russian rulers, seeing the end of their bogus 'communist state' in sight, began setting up private companies in their own names using state funds. These parasites, long the beneficiaries of working-class exploitation under state capitalism, are now private owners of capital. These are the new rouble millionaires whose freedom to exploit we in the West are urged to celebrate as a coming of liberty. An ex-Central Committee member from the discredited Communist Party of the defunct .Soviet Union is shown driving a Merc and looking like any other pouncing thief to be found in the gentlemen's clubs of Chelsea. You won't find them in the food queues. Maybe they'll organise a Russian Telethon so that they can appear on the telly offering a few roubles to the wage slaves out of whose poverty they have carved their privilege.

Thieving Queen

Talking of privilege. The Queen of Mean (BBC, 9pm, Friday 17 July) was good for the bile. The film was about Leona Helmsley, the US millionairess who ended up in prison because she was caught not paying her taxes. The film-makers depicted her as ruthless, callous, heartless and out for nothing but money and power. Sounds like the ideal C.V. for a capitalist parasite. No wonder they call her The Queen. Why shouldn't she live like a selfish, useless, uncaring swine? Since when was there money to be made out of caring? Mind you, Aspel’s probably on his way to a knighthood and someone in the Kwik-Fit P.R. department is in for a handy little Christmas bonus this year.

Steve Coleman

Uncensored News and Views on Russia (1946)

Book Review from the May 1946 issue of the Socialist Standard

"Report on Russia” (Cresset Press, 6s.), by Mr. Paul Winterton, long known as an advocate of British-Russian friendship, is an interesting and useful book, but one that will be of most use to the reader who approaches it with an alert and critical mind and remembers its limitations. Mr. Winterton first visited Russia in 1928, when he lived with a Russian family for nearly a year. He speaks Russian, has made many subsequent visits, and from 1942 to 1945 was there as correspondent for a London newspaper, the News Chronicle. As, during those three years, he “wrote or broadcast something like a million words about Russia" it might be supposed that he had said all he wanted to say—but that would be to leave out of account the heavy hand of the Russian censors. “Because of the censorship,” he writes, “I was allowed to say only nice things. Criticism was impossible.” Now he seeks to even things up by saying the things the censor barred. His complaint is not about the military or "security” censorship, which he accepted as a wartime necessity, but about the political censorship. "Broadly speaking, throughout the whole period of the war it was impossible for any foreign correspondent in Moscow to write anything which was in the slightest degree critical of anything in the Soviet Union, or which implied any disagreement with any aspect of Russian policy” (p. 52). He and the rest of the foreign correspondents were, willy-nilly, a chorus of “yes-men”—"on all controversial subjects, you either said 'yes,' or you said nothing.”

He describes in detail how the correspondents who were supposed to be reporting the war were never allowed anywhere near the fighting, so, being restricted to carefully conducted tours of selected spots long after the battle had moved on, the correspondents had to seek information of the Official Press Department and in the Russian newspapers. From the former they received only obstruction, since its function was obviously not to inform or to assist, but to censor. The latter were equally inadequate, for “Russian newspapers do not set out to be very informative about events. Indeed, their prime function is not to give facts, but to steer and organise the Russian people in the way that the government wants them to go.” Of Russian journalists he writes that, in the main, they "eschew facts and keep their writings vague. They know that they are on safe ground if they say something in slightly different words which has been said before by someone in authority. They seek security in vagueness, and (because they are paid at so many roubles a line) prosperity in length ” (p. 41).

It is not surprising that the foreign correspondents frequently obtained their first news of important events in Russia as a result of listening to the B.B.C. from London (p. 39).

The Russian censors not only cut, but also altered the reports that they let go through. They frequently "not only took sentences out, but wrote their own sentences in” (p. 52). In chapter IV many examples are given of the statements the censors would not allow to be made. They would not let the correspondents report that the Russians were purposely kept in ignorance about the extent and nature of American lend-lease supplies. They would not let Mr. Winterton report that Esthonians had told him that they objected to the incorporation. of Esthonia into Russia. Of course, be was not allowed to report the fact that Russians are nervous about mixing with foreign visitors. One critical report the Russians did let through,, but that was only because they failed to recognise it for what it was. The Russian Government was whipping up demonstrations by Persians in the part of Persia under Russian occupation, in order to make it seem that the Russian demand for oil concessions was being enthusiastically supported by the Persian population. Winterton reported this in a message which referred ironically to "spontaneous” demonstrations; but irony is a dangerous instrument to use, for the London editor likewise failed to recognise it!

Finding that they were not allowed to report the war in any direct way, the correspondents "tried to see and write about other things in Russia,” but this was likewise obstructed. They would apply to the Press Department for facilities, "but it took the Press Department weeks, and sometimes months, to arrange for a correspondent to visit even a kindergarten” (p.37). The Anglo-American correspondents many times protested to various authorities, but their letters and verbal protests were systematically ignored. Even when they got anything to report they still had to pass the censor, and Mr. Winterton’s verdict is that it was quite impossible to give an accurate and objective picture of Russian life because the censors cut out "almost every word or sentence which showed Russia in less than a perfect light” (p. 56).

It is Mr. Winterton's considered view that the difficulties placed in the way of correspondents are deliberate and are part of a settled policy of the Russian Government aimed at preventing information about Russia freely reaching the outside world and at preventing the Russians from knowing about conditions in the outside world. The censorship may, perhaps, be abolished (so far it is still going strong), but that will not necessarily mean that "thereafter the reporting of news from Russia would be fair and full,” for the Russian Government will still be able to keep tight control by withholding entry visas from correspondents who are disliked, or by withdrawing them from correspondents who are too independent (P. 57).

Mr. Winterton gives a two-fold explanation of the suppressive policy of the Russian Government. Remembering the aggression of the other Powers in the past against Russia, the government of the latter country regards all foreigners as potential spies. That is understandable enough, but the Russian Government is likewise afraid to let its own citizens know of conditions in other countries. Mr. Winterton writes (p. 63) : —

"There is no doubt whatever that for a generation the Russian people have been hoodwinked. The facts, if known to the Russians, would make the textbooks and the teachers look ridiculous. How, then, can the Soviet authorities look with any favour upon any large-scale mixing of their people with the foreigner? How can they permit their citizens to travel freely between the Soviet Union and the outside world ? ”

For twenty years the Russian workers have been told by their government that their country is happier, more fortunate and, generally, speaking, better off than the people of other countries, whereas, says Mr. Winterton, “from the purely material point of view practically everything outside Russia is better than the corresponding thing inside Russia. This is true of towns, streets, houses, parks, plumbing, shops and cinemas . . . . ” (p. 64).

Of the standard of living be writes: —

"Twenty years of peace would find the Russian people enjoying a standard of life which —though still very low by Western levels—would nevertheless be far in advance of anything they had known before ” (p. 117).

He writes that “Moscow’s slums are os bad as any in the world ” (p. 129).

Mr. Winterton contrasts the life of the rich and the poor. “The privileged—Red Army generals, police chiefs, commissars and assistant commissars, Party bosses, inventors, factory managers, highly-skilled engineers, ballerinas, writers, artists—these can command all the luxuries available in Moscow. They can have good food and wine, nice clothes and furs for their wives and sweethearts, pleasant and spacious apartments, the use of a motor car, a chauffeur, a domestic servant, and a house in the country. The poorest people have the barest necessities of life, and live in what can only be described as squalor. People are not directly exploited by each other, as happens under capitalism, but some people are certainly exploited by the State for the benefit of other people, and it amounts to much the same thing in the end . . . You can still see a poor person in Moscow from time to time searching a street dustbin for a scrap of food . . . .  just as in most other cities in the world” (P. 131).

Mr. Winterton wants an end to the humbug of pretending that Russia is a democracy: "As near as makes no odds, Russia is a totalitarian state. It is ruled in practice by a small inner ring of Communist Party leaders with Stalin at their head. Insofar as the voice of the people finds any effective expression at all, it is heard only inside the Party, where majority decisions bind the minority to public acquiescence. In reality, even the ordinary rank and file members of the Communist Party have little say in policy these days, and are hardly more than the propaganda instruments for popularising the decisions taken at the top" (p. 119).

Among many other interesting observations on Russian life, Mr. Winterton writes on the militarisation of education, the farcical "discussion" at the Supreme Soviet (Parliament), and the functions of the trade unions. On the latter he writes: "The workers in Russian factories cannot organise collective agitation for shorter hours or higher wages unless the Party approves. Their trade unions have little authority or influence and largely confine their activities to social and cultural work. Their members cannot strike" (P. 123).

The declared object of Mr. Winterton4s book is to provide real information about Russian conditions and, above all, of the Russian Government’s policies. He thinks that another war will only be avoided if America and the British Empire can avoid a direct clash with Russia. This may be achieved by cynically dividing the world into two spheres of interest, but even that, he considers, will require greater knowledge and understanding of the real Russia than exists at present

The Socialist who reads “Report on Russia" cannot fail to notice its and the author’s limitations. His (undeclared) standpoint appears to be that of a Liberal democrat who accepts capitalism and with it the inevitable international rivalry between the big Powers. His information and his criticisms of Russian policy may be accurate enough, but always there is the implication that if only Russia were like Britain and U.S.A. there would be no problems and all would be well. Yet this is manifestly untrue both of internal conditions and of international affairs.

Are there slums in Moscow? So there are in London and New York. All three countries, in common with the rest of the capitalist world, have riches and poverty side by side and the exploitation of the working class for the benefit of the privileged few. In all three countries the working class have yet to achieve the ending of capitalism and the establishment of Socialism. There is no indication that Mr. Winterton wants this or that he realises that without it the search for permanent peace is bound to fail. If Russia were democratic like Britain and U.S.A. that would not mean the end of rivalry between the Powers. The capitalist scramble for markets and raw materials, etc., would still be on.

It is important that in Britain and U.S.A. the workers are able to form their own trade unions and political parties and can publish their views and hold meetings, etc., but the contrast with Russia could be presented in a more balanced way by recalling that if in Russia dictatorship has been used by the ruling group to keep the masses poor, the capitalists in Britain and America have so far been able to achieve the same result through democracy. In all three countries the privileged group have the same end in view though their methods differ.

On one point we must strongly doubt Mr. Winterton’s conclusion. He is not hopeful about the Russian workers challenging the restrictions imposed on them. "The Soviet Union," he writes, "is solidly united under its regime, for all opposition was long ago crushed and the Russians are accustomed to obedience: nor is there much desire to criticise ” (p. 117).

Again he tells us that the existing totalitarian system "seems to work quite well with the Russians, who have never experienced political democracy in our sense, who do not particularly want it, and who would certainly have great difficulty in working it" (p. 121).

These seem to be very rash statements to make. The Russians, he says, are "accustomed to obedience.” That, of course, is what the Czars' governments used to think, but 1905 and 1917 should surely make one doubt it as a guide to Russian workers' behaviour. Of what slave-system, what autocracy and what colonial possession has it not been said that the subjects are accustomed to obedience and therefore will not rouse themselves? Yet all of the seemingly apathetic populations have sometime come to life and astounded their rulers.

As a correspondent in Russia, Mr. Winterton, for reasons he gives himself, is not in the least likely to be a good judge of the amount of opposition there may be with the Stalin regime. Oppositionists under a dictatorship do not lightly run the risk of approaching foreign correspondents and thus drawing attention to themselves.

Another point presents itself. If the Russian workers, though exploited, are satisfied and docile and do not want democratic rights, why does the Russian Government go to such trouble, including the maintenance of the secret police system, to prevent them from asserting themselves? It is just as if you went to a zoo and found a heavily barred cage, under armed guard, containing some blinkered, muzzled and shackled animals, and were told by the keeper that they were happy, contented and docile sheep. You would think that the keeper was mad or that perhaps the animals weren’t sheep after all.

Edgar Hardcastle

Russia’s Rich Men (1972)

Book Review from the December 1972 issue of the Socialist Standard

The End of Inequality? by David Lane.

This is an interesting discussion of “social stratification” in Russia even though Lane dismisses the various theories which say Russia is a class society in the Marxian sense — which for some reason he calls theories of state capitalism even though only one of those he mentions used this term. This does not mean that Lane thinks Russia is a classless society. Far from it. He just thinks Marxian definitions do not apply.

Even so, the first two chapters where Lane points out that Socialism in Marx’s sense could not have been established in Russia after 1917 because of the low level of productivity then prevailing rely heavily on Marxist ideas. Indeed Lane seems to recognise that Socialism is not possible till the means of production can produce abundance, but he does persist in using the misleading phrase “state socialism” to describe Russian society.

The other three chapters are based on the evidence of social research carried out in Russia, Poland, Hungary and Czechoslovakia which reveals that the pattern of status and style-of-life groups (which some sociologists use to define class) in these countries is much the same as in the West.

The one difference, claims Lane, “is the absence of a private propertied class possessing great concentrations of wealth”. Later he speaks of “the elimination of inheritance of substantial wealth”. Now, while it is true that the predominant form of class monopoly in Russia is the ruling class’s collective control over the means of production, it is not true that there are no individually wealthy persons there. Members of the Russian ruling class do have the chance to accumulate — out of high salaries, bonuses, prizes and even fiddles — considerable private fortunes. Lane himself says that the salary of a government Minister is nine times the average wage, and this is not counting various fringe benefits like cars, big houses, holidays and special shops. In Britain this would be an income of about £250 a week (which would be worth more in Russia because of the low rates of income tax there). Some of this is bound to be saved and over the years a large sum, which can be inherited, built up.

In fact this whole field of individual wealth in countries like Russia — its sources, its distribution, where it is invested — is wide open for original research. It is even fair to speculate whether, with the spread of enterprise freedom and the possible success of the Russian civil rights movement, private ownership of wealth rather than political power may not become the predominant form of class privilege in Russia.

Adam Buick

Light on Soviet Russia. (1930)

Book Review from the December 1930 issue of the Socialist Standard

“Economic Trends in Soviet Russia.” By A. Yugoff. (George Allen & Unwin.)

The above volume is intended as a broad general outline of affairs in Russia. It affords considerable support to the position maintained by the Socialist Party since the Bolshevik upheaval.

“Soviet Russia,” says the author, in his introduction 

“is a land of economic contrasts and oppositions. In the towns there are huge factories and workshops; in the countryside, a natural economy is still almost exclusively dominant. Huge trusts and syndicates, embracing whole branches of industry and commerce, confront independent home workers and itinerant traders. Theoretically, and as a matter of principle, all the economic life of the country is under State control; whilst in practice currency crises, crises of production, gluts, crises of demand, press hard on one another’s heels, and are renewed ever and again by the spontaneous play of economic forces and by the lack of due proportion between the various branches of economic life.

Furthermore, in latter-day Russia we can see a peculiarly vivid picture of the results of artificially cultivated Socialist economic forms in a country where neither the economic nor the social conditions are ripe for anything of the kind; we can note what a caricature of true Socialism such an enforced ‘Socialism’ must be.

Two conflicting tendencies arc at work in Soviet Russia to-day. One of them has originated out of the new economic and social situation created by the revolution, the overthrow of Tsarism, and the freshly-created possibilities for a rapid unfolding of productive forces alike in industry and agriculture. The other, which Communist policy has artificially introduced into the realm of economic reality acts as a brake upon economic progress, rivets Utopian fetters upon these same productive forces, and gives rise to a pendulum swing from ‘right’ to ‘left,’ and then back to ‘right’ again.”

Yugoff holds that not only is Russia unripe for Socialism, but that the elaborate bureaucratic structure of nationalisation which the Communist rulers have built up, is a barrier to the capitalist development, which is an essential preliminary to the establishment of Socialism. Nationalisation, he points out, is not Socialism; it has been adopted by the most reactionary governments on occasions when it has suited their interests, and does not in itself necessarily constitute economic progress. In this, Yugoff merely repeats what Engels says in his little work, “Socialism ; Utopian and Scientific” (see footnote and text on pp. 83-4-5)); but he shows also the practical bearing of this fact on the Russian situation.

Nationalisation was adopted by the Bolsheviks as a result of the chaos ensuing from the economic collapse in 1916-17, their seizure of power and the civil war. It was an emergency measure and was carried a good deal further than Lenin had suggested as being desirable in his writings just prior to the events of October-November, 1917. (See “Preparing for Revolt.”) Having adopted it as an immediate policy, however, the Bolsheviks proceeded to make the most extravagant claims for it. The collapse of the currency was hailed as the prelude to the final disappearance of money ; the system of compulsory rationing became the first step towards a planned economy. Small wonder then that the partial reversion to normal capitalism, represented by the N.E,P., should have been regretted by a considerable section of the ruling party as a retreat. Yugoff, however, maintains that the logical implications of the N.E.P. have never been carried out, and the reason is not far to seek.

“During the process of nationalisation thousands upon thousands of private property owners were replaced by new hosts of ‘red’ bureaucrats, trust managers and commissaries, who gobbled up all the savings which might otherwise have been made by the expropriation of the expropriators” (p. 99).

The Bolsheviks nationalised thousands of small enterprises whose owners were also their managers; but the new rulers lacked the technical resources necessary to the reconstruction of these enterprises upon a larger and more economical scale. Hence the surplus value extracted from the workers’ labour did not even provide fresh capital for the expansion of industry. It was swallowed up in “administrative expenses.” The motive of private gain remained the only one capable of acting as a stimulus to the accumulation of capital.

The Bolsheviks, in introducing the New Economic Policy, of course, recognised this fact; but having entrenched themselves in the realm of State industry, their parasitic, bureaucratic supporters are loath to surrender to outsiders the privileges which they enjoy. So far from having been smashed, the State in Russia has expanded into an excrescence which stands in the way of further economic development.

Hence the struggle between those who claim to be intent upon “building up Socialism” and the new class of private capitalists who are arising partly in spite of the Bolsheviks’ efforts, but partly also as a result of them.

In order to provide the capital for the expansion of State industry, the old Tsarist expedient of taxing the peasantry is adopted; but carried beyond a certain point, this defeats its own object by checking agricultural accumulation and the growth of food supplies and raw materials. The experiment of State farms, as Yugoff shows, involves inroads upon peasant cultivation which reduce numbers of peasants to beggary and increase the drift to the towns. The increase in the unemployed is greater than the industries of the State can absorb, and the way is thus opened up for private exploiters to embark upon industrial enterprise. Thus, sooner or later, Yugoff argues, the heavy hand of the State upon trade and industry will be relaxed. In the interests of an expanding capitalism, the State monopoly of foreign commerce will be broken down ; but in so far as these measures involve the abolition of the economic basis of the dictatorship, a serious political change is the essential preliminary. Yugoff puts the question : What form is this likely to take?

He sees three possible alternatives. 

“A democratic State authority might be set up; or part of the Communist Party might be transformed into a party of the possessing classes (Thermidor); or, finally, there might be a Bonapartist, or reactionary coup-d’etat. No one can foresee which course development will take. This much, however, is certain, that the party which now rules in the U.S.S.R. is no longer a party of the working class; is not a party which can carry out a policy of socialisation; is not even a party competent to promote in any consistent or enduring fashion the interests of the working class” (pp. 335-6).

Not that Yugoff blames the Communists for their failure to work a miracle. Indeed, his work is, in its way, a masterpiece of scientific method. He sees in the “dictators” the creatures rather than the creators of the present transitional period in Russia from feudalism to capitalism. Even the very illusions, which he credits them with sharing with their followers in the early days of the Revolution, have in Yugoff’s eyes an historical function. Intoxicated with the idea of an impending world Socialist revolution, the workers of Russia accomplished a task which the Russian capitalists were incapable of doing for themselves. They swept the last vestiges of feudalism from Russian society. They assisted the peasants to lay hands upon the land and free themselves “from the burden of high rents, land taxes, and interest on mortgages,” which Yugoff describes as the main historical task of the revolution.

No sooner, however, had the peasants overthrown the old ruling class in the country than a new one began to appear in the towns. This new class grows at the expense both of the peasants and the urban working-class, converting by degrees the former into the latter. Thus, in spite of certain differences, economic history in Russia repeats that of Western Europe.

The temptation to quote Yugoff’s three final chapters at some length is great, but the following brief extract must suffice:

“Behind the Socialist facade the features of a society which, though new, though born out of the revolution, is fundamentally capitalist, are disclosing themselves more plainly day by day; we must do our utmost to dispel the illusion that this revolution is a Socialist one, so that the working class (hitherto deceived) may be enabled to hold at least the second line of its revolutionary position, and may escape being crushed politically and morally as soon as the nature of the masquerade becomes plain to all the world.” (pp. 320-1).

For Yugoff sees quite plainly that the adversaries of Socialism can make good use of the Communist Party’s failure.

“They declare that the failure of nationalisation in Russia is tantamount to the failure of Socialism. . . . They consider that the Russian experiment provides them with a powerful weapon of defence against the struggle of the working class for Socialism” (p. 95).

To thoroughly appreciate Yugoff’s book, however, it is necessary to compare it with others that profess to cover similar ground. Mr. Maurice Dobb’s volume, “Russian Economic Development,” for instance, while more fully detailed, is vitiated by economic inaccuracies, chief of which is the fallacy that Russian development is Socialist. Mr. Farbman’s writings, while illuminating in many particulars, make no attempt to offer an explanation for the effects which he describes. They cannot therefore be classed as scientific. Anatole Baikaloff’s little book, “In the Land of Communist Dictatorship,” remains equally superficial, in spite of the author’s industrious accumulation of data exploding the stories of the Workers’ Paradise.

Yugoff’s book will be far from welcome to so-called reformers, Communist and Labour Party alike, to whom nationalisation is the panacea for working class ills. Miss Ellen Wilkinson, for instance, in the July “Plebs,” finds it somewhat “disturbing.” More important, however, than this, it spikes the guns of reactionaries, Tory and Liberal, who, ever since the introduction of the New Economic Policy, have sedulously paraded the legend that Socialism has failed in Russia. By laying bare the economic forces actually at work the author has stripped the Russian Revolution of its romance and enabled us the better to understand its reality.

Both publishers and translators (Eden and Cedar Paul) are to be congratulated on the results of their efforts,

Eric Boden

The Soviet opposition (1978)

From the October 1978 issue of the Socialist Standard

For the most part the Party maximum was an operative rule until the end of the twenties and early thirties. Then it began to be undermined, primarily by the decline in the real wages of most workers. The limited increase in money wages did not cover the rapid rise in prices; a considerable number of workers found their small circle of high officials was protected by the creation of a system of special stores, distributing centres, and dining rooms, where goods could be obtained at fixed prices. Gradually they acquired other privileges too: their own hospitals, free rest homes, dachas, and so on. In the same period a peculiar habit began to appear: the Party activ were given expensive gifts for holidays, congresses, and conferences. On February 8, 1932, the Party maximum was formally abolished, bringing a new increase in the real income of leading officials.

When the economic situation improved, permitting the abolition of rationing in 1935 and a steady increase in real wages, the privileges of high officials were not terminated. On the contrary, they were increased. A system of representatives’ subsidies (predestavitel 'skie dotatsii) was established for all officials at the level of the chairman of a city Soviet or higher. Moreover, the direct salaries of higher officials rose much faster than wages of ordinary workers. Many officials increased their salaries even more through a system of pluralism (sovmestitel ’stro); that is, one man held several offices, receiving full pay for each. Thus the l-to-5 ratio between an average worker’s salary and that of the highest official, which Lenin evidently considered optimal, was violated even before the war.

Subsequently the ratio grew still greater. During the war and the first post-war years, when the real wages of ordinary workers were falling once again, the salaries of the highest officials continued to rise. That was the period when the disgraceful system of “packets” (pakety) was introduced in the higher State and Party institutions. Each month almost every high official would receive an envelope or packet containing a large sum, often much higher than the salary formally designated for his post. These payments passed through special financial channels, were not subject to taxes, and were kept secret from the rank-and-file officials of the institution.

Russian dissident Roy Medvedev on the growth of the Russian rulers’ privileges, in Let History Judge, Knopf, N.Y. 1972, pp 539-40.