False Message (1988)

Film Review from the January 1988 issue of the Socialist Standard

After the Merchant-Ivory production of A Room With A View comes a film adaptation of another E.M. Forster novel — Maurice. It is a love story of two privileged young men — Maurice (James Wilby) and Clive Durham (Hugh Grant) — who embark on a love affair at a time when homosexuality was regarded as both a moral failing (or even a disease) and a criminal offence. However, the brutal effects of intolerance towards gays is, for the most part, implied rather than made explicit. Instead we see Maurice and Clive as undergraduates at Cambridge, in the luxurious surroundings of Durham's country estate and condescending to play cricket with "the peasants" on the village green.

For Maurice, the hostility towards homosexuality is not sufficient to deter him from loving Durham. But for Durham — with his title, land and status to consider — the realisation of how much he stands to lose should his affair with Maurice be discovered, leads him to opt for the respectability of marriage to a suitable bride. Maurice, hurt by his lover's rejection, is driven into the arms of Scudder (Rupert Graves), Durham's game-keeper, to seek consolation.

The film is prettily shot — plenty of soft focus bucolic country scenes — and the story poignant, if at times rather unconvincing. Scudder is something of a romantic caricature of the untutored, but emotionally honest and sensual, country lad in contrast to his refined but inhibited social superiors. Ultimately, the film is unsatisfactory, glossing over the difficulties, not only of homosexual love in a society that finds any form of sexual expression hard to cope with but also of a relationship that crosses class lines. We are left with the message that "love conquers all" which is about as naive and sentimental as Maurice and Scudder appear to be.

Janie Percy-Smith

The Same Conclusions (1995)

From the November 1995 issue of the Socialist Standard

Richard Buckminster Fuller, engineer, architect, inventor, scientist, poet, was born a hundred years ago (he died in 1983). Among his many inventions is the geodesic dome, a structure with no theoretical limits to its size: the higher it is the greater the capacity of its foundations. Many have been built, particularly in the US. He was also distinguished by having the newly-discovered carbon molecule named after him—Buckminsterfullerene.

His name is not often included in the pantheon of social revolutionaries, which only goes to show how parochial we sometimes are in our thinking. He came to much the same conclusions about the society we live in and possible alternative arrangements as we do, but from totally different premisses. 

As an engineer he couldn't stand the inefficiency of capitalism—he called it "obnoxico". As an anthropologist he rejected the idea of "economic man", selfish, on the make, as a perversion of our natures by this crazy system:

"With complete freedom of choice, much of humanity will begin to discover that it loves to work at tasks of its own choosing—that it loves to disciple itself to demonstrate its competence to others—that it will compete with the many to demonstrate its competence to serve on one of the multitude of production teams. There would be no payment for the work. It would be like qualifying for the Olympic team to be allowed to do what you want to do. You would have to prove that you could do the job better than anyone else to get onto the production teams. Permission to serve on the world's production teams will be the greatest privilege that humanity can bestow on any individual. There is no joy equal to that of being able to work for all of humanity and doing what you're doing well. It is difficult to match the gratification of not just crudely crafting a plaything for one child (which indeed can be very rewarding) but of producing exquisite somethings for a billion children. Activities of this kind are re-inspirational to a mystical degree."

As a student of thermodynamics he anchored his reasoning not in sentiment but in the facts of nature:

"About 90 per cent of all USA employment is engaged in tasks producing no life-support wealth. These non-life-supporting producing employees are spending three, four, and more gallons of gasoline daily to go to their non-wealth-producing jobs, ergo we are wasting $3 trillion of cosmic wealth per day in the US.
"We may safely assume that class one evolution is syntropic and that class two is often entropically diseased. The desire to make money is inherently entropic, for it seeks to monopolize order while leaving un-cope-with-able disorder to overwhelm others. We must remember that the majority of those convincedly committed to "making money" are motivated to do so because of their mistaken conviction that there is a fundamental (external) inadequacy of human life support on our planet."

I can't find the word syntropic in my dictionary but I think his meaning is clear if a touch poetic. Entropy yes. That describes the evolution of the universe toward randomness, the discharge of all potential, ultimate running down. Time is an arrow and not a boomerang. But life on earth, fuelled by the sun, is building structures, organisms, societies, except where frustrated by disease or disintegrating forces like capitalism.

Ken Smith

Letter: "Challenge to CND" (1983)

Letter to the Editors from the July 1983 issue of the Socialist Standard

Dear Comrades,

Please find enclosed cutting from Motherwell Times, which contains a challenge to debate with the CND. A further challenge to debate has been issued to all the political parties engaged in the forthcoming general election, only in more general terms, and has been published in this week's issue of Hamilton and Motherwell People, a free drop paper issued every week under the auspices of the Hamilton Advertiser. So far we await reaction.

Comrade Murphy was a founder member of the old Hamilton Branch which functioned from 1935 to 1945, during which period I was secretary and then transferred to Glasgow Branch and continued membership. Motherwell and Hamilton—three miles apart and separated on the north and south banks of the River Clyde—lie right in the heart of the industrial belt of Scotland. Motherwell has more or less boxed the political compass and, with the exception of the SDP who are too recent, have chopped and changed for every reformist party over the years, and having the dubious honour of electing the first Communist Party member (Walton Newbold) and the first Scottish Nationalist (Dr. Robert McIntyre) to sit in Parliament. Labour have held the seat in 1946. Hamilton has been consistently Labour since 1918 with one exception, when the Scottish Nationalists won a by-election, but reverted to Labour at the following general election and has remained so ever since.

The industrial belt, traditionally dependent on shipbuilding and heavy engineering, has felt some of the worst effects of the present slump, as it did in the 1930s. Hamilton is no longer a coal town, and the only colliery left in Lanarkshire (Cardowan Stepps) is due for closure. Motherwell, so dependent on the Ravenscraig Steel Compound, is almost devastated by the cuts operating under the McGregor Plan for British Steel brought on by the world crisis dominating government policy no matter what reformist party governs.

It is not my intention to bore you with a particular description of capitalism as it is the world over, but only to give cheer in the knowledge that once our party principles and policy are understood and accepted, they stick. Although we are now reduced to three in number and would seem to have been quiescent over the years, our interest in the activities of Glasgow has always been keen and only the onslaught of age (we are all well in our seventies) prevents us from attending meetings regularly.

Yours for Socialism. Tommy Jones.

ex-secretary of the old Hamilton Branch.

"Challenge to CND"

Sir, — Today in the 1980s the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament is expanding its membership at a rapid rate. It makes an emotional appeal to people's understandable fears of the effects of a nuclear war.

Since it was founded in 1958, CND has seen the number of nuclear weapons in the world multiply hundreds of times over, but it has consistently refused to discuss what actually causes wars.

When people really start to escape from the fears and prejudices that plague well-intentioned bodies such as CND, it will not just be just a matter of 'ban the bomb'; it will be the end of all wars and of the economic rivalries between national ruling classes that cause them.

I challenge the CND to debate with a representative of the Socialist Party of Great Britain on the question, The Case Against CND. — Yours, etc., R. Murphy, 73 Calder Grove, Motherwell.

News from nowhere (1980)

From the November 1980 issue of the Socialist Standard

Samuel Butler's biting satire Erewhon (an anagram of "nowhere"), published in 1872, describes the sort of society found by the narrator in a remote mythical land in the Antipodes. A curious feature of erewhonian culture was its paradoxical reversal of moral values. For example, a physical ailment such as pulmonary consumption was punished as a crime while embezzlement called for condolence—for the embezzler!

Now you might wonder why on earth such a piece of fiction, fascinating though it may be, should be mentioned in a no-nonsense political journal like the Socialist Standard. Well fact can sometimes be stranger than fiction — certainly as far as politics is concerned.

One of the more amusing cliches our politicians are prone to using is that little gem: "the Real World". Presumably it is intended to reflect upon themselves as hard-headed, realistic people grappling with complex social issues in a cool, commonsense fashion. Invoking the "Real World" in political debate is rather like invoking "God" or "Allah" in some Holy War: it has a definite propaganda value, both for self defence and to discomfort one's enemies. Thus it can serve, for example, to rationalise and excuse the politician's failure to "deliver the goods" by suggesting that the "Real World", with its rising oil prices and cheap foreign imports, is rather more refractory and unyielding than they had bargained for. On the other hand. it enables them to dismiss their opponents' views as unworkable, utopian and out of touch with that "real world" which they with their vast experience in repeated political failures and broken pledges, are so intimately acquainted with.

A few months ago, ex-MP Shirley Williams was caught in the act, exposing the machinations of her politician's mind to readers of the Guardian (May 19). She complained of the way in which the image and reality (of politicians) are constantly confused by the media—a somewhat odd complaint from a political conjuror whose profession is so vitally concerned with the creation and manipulation of images—of themselves, their opponents or their scapegoats.

Through television, they (politicians) become images—actors in some drama called politics—and the fact that they are real men and women operating in a real world is easily obscured.

Ah, that quaint little cliche again! But possibly Williams is obscuring a fact or two here herself about the nature of the "Real World"? Consider the reason she gives for her concern over the media: "Democracies die unless people have some trust in those they elect to represent them and to lead them." In her view the media tends, in certain ways, to undermine this trust.

What she is suggesting is that democracy hinges on the apparent conduct of leaders. Presumably them if a leader chose to flout the wishes of the electorate and thus undermine their trust, he or she would be able to get away with it either because public opinion would be compelled to adapt itself to undemocratic views or it counts for nothing anyway and can be safely ignored. Either way such a view implies that society is like putty, to be moulded at will by a few prominent individuals or "great men". Why, in that case, bother about the whole rigmarole of democracy, one might well ask?

This is indicative of the contempt in which politicians hold us. We count simply as voting fodder to be cynically used in the game of power politics, incapable of creative self-assertion, of democratically organising ourselves without patronising politicians seeking our "trust". They are the most ardent devotees of the "great man" theory, in their assessment of fellow leaders. In their generous claims as to the historic significance of some public figure they flatter themselves in the knowledge that they out in a similar role.

The "great man" theory, however is based, in Plekhanov's words, on an "optical illusion". Great men are themselves the products of the sort of society they live in, of given social forces that are used by them to effect social change. Whatever influence their personalities have it is exercised within these fundamental constraints. Is it really surprising then, given the basic lack of democratic control over social affairs in capitalism, that this should be reflected in the inflated, grandiose images political leaders have assumed, images whose source—society itself—they seek to play down by attributing their stature to qualities vested in their own personalities. The fact that they seek mass mass support, disposes of such pretensions as fiction but ironically it is on the strength of such fictions that they solicit support. What else could the call for a "strong leader" be?

No matter. The fantasies of politicians would be of small account except for the fact that they are shared by the working class—without whose support the politicians would not be in power—and are reflected by and through the media, which cannot be blamed for any lack of trust the public feels towards its "leaders". The leaders themselves invite the distrust and cynicism by entertaining illusions about their capacity to solve capitalism's inevitable problems. Illusions that are without foundation in the "real world".

This problem of credibility the leaders attempt to overcome by the tactic of finding some readily recognisable scapegoat for society's ills. The more credible the scapegoat, the less incredible will seem the politicians' claims to be able to legislate away those social ills in the face of their continuation, or even aggravation.

Take for example the problem of inflation, which has greatly concerned our political masters in the post-war era—particularly since the early seventies. The search for a scapegoat has inevitably focused on the working class. Typical of the sort of view expressed on the matter was Jo Grimond's contribution to a Commons debate on the cost of living: "When production hardly rises, pay increases inevitably lead to inflation. That is not the discovery of Professor Friedman but commonsense" (Guardian, 15 April).

In other words, "greedy workers" are to blame—despite the fact that between 1850 and 1892 average wages rose by 62 per cent (Study of Prices Lawton and Crowther) while prices fell by 8 per cent—in defiance of the "laws of commonsense", it would seem.

Others can be more blunt in their criticism. Recently the "Iron Lady" herself, before an assembled conference of several hundred well-heeled and rather indignant Tory women, rounded on workers putting in for high wage claims and behaving "selfishly". It is curious that a believer in the market economy's capacity to perform wonders by motivating individuals on the basis of competitive self-interest, should reproach workers for behaving accordingly. And this from someone who is forever talking about the need to give workers "greater incentives" (which on the face of it, is what a large pay rise would presumably provide)—that is, to stimulate what she and those who think like her would call "greed".

But moralising is not restricted to avowed defenders of capitalism. The saying that the Labour Party owes more to Methodism than to Marxism, probably explains its long-established tradition of viewing what it calls socialism as a sort of act of charity forever being obstructed by mean, unsympathetic financiers in the City.

The fake revolutionaries on the left are no better. In its pocket pamphlet No. 1, enigmatically entitled Do Wages Cause Inflation? the Socialist Workers' Party argues that "Wage rises don't cause inflation—the big companies raise prices to protect their profits". This time it's the greedy capitalist who is to blame. The pamphlet goes on to point out that the "bosses won't invest if their profits are too low". This is undoubtedly what Paul Foot, that ubiquitous guru of the SWP, had in mind when, on a Question Time TV program (22 May), he explained why the world's production potential was far from being used up. It was, he said, because of the greed of the wealthy. Apparently then, when production is held back for lack of profit it is due to greed but it is also greed which causes production to go ahead by ensuring profits through raising prices! Paul Foot would do well to heed Engels' remark:

Whoever declares that the capitalist mode of production, the "iron laws" of present-day bourgeois society, are inviolable and yet at the same time would like to abolish their unpleasant but necessary consequence has no other recourse but to deliver moral sermons to the capitalists, moral sermons whose emotional effects immediately evaporate under the influence of private interest and, if necessary, of competition (The Housing Question).

Society today is based upon the ownership and control of the means of living by a small minority. The rest of us, the workers, produce all the wealth and in doing so create a greater value than we receive back in the form of wages and salaries—the surplus value being appropriated by the owners of capital. Marx described succinctly the relationship between profits and wages:

They stand in inverse ration to each other. Capital's share, profit, rises in the same proportion as labour's share, wages falls, and vice versa. Profit rises to to the extent that wages fall; it falls to the extent that wages rise (Wage Labour and Capital).

In the language of the moralist, this means that the "less greedy" the workers are, the "more greedy" are the capitalists, and vice versa.

Moralists should take a look at history. How would they account for the period of deflation, 1921-31, when both prices and wages fell by roughly 30 per cent? Could it be that the impoverished British working class was mysteriously seized by an overpowering feeling of generosity towards the capitalists above and beyond the normal call of duty in generously providing profits for them? As any historian will know, that was an era of high militant activity and industrial unrest. And yet if you hold the view that the level of wage claims determines the general price level, what other conclusion is open to you?

Inflation is, in  fact, the consequence of government-authorised excess printing of inconvertible paper currency. Workers do not have access to the printing press but it suits governments to represent an inevitable consequence of their inflationary policies—high wage claims to maintain real living standards against a background of spiralling prices—as the cause of inflation.

Socialists have been called utopian. Utopia however simply means "no place" and only on this sense is socialism a utopia, for indeed it exists nowhere in the world at present. But while socialism is the practical fulfillment of the material interests ("greed", if you like) of the working class, the dream world that occupies the minds of politicians is incapable of realisation. The real world we all live in—even politicians—is one in which the interests of the buyers and sellers of labour power, are locked in fundamental and irreconcilable conflict and cannot be harmonised except in the distorted imagination.

Next time one of these pious paragons of virtue rises heavily from some overburdened banquet table to lecture the workers on why they ought to "tighten their belts" in these days of economic gloom, remember that.

Robin Cox

Editorial: No laughing matter (1988)

Editorial from the February 1988 issue of the Socialist Standard

Many a media career has taken root in the traditional enrichment of the national life through the satirising of its eminent persons. We are now experiencing a revival of this tradition which began some thirty years ago, as the wartime reverence for political leaders wore thin under the abrasive reality that the post-war world was as gritty as ever with coercion, fear and poverty. So the fringe theatre sprang up; and Private Eye; and just in time to make sport of Macmillan's blundering into the Profumo affair, That Was The Week That Was.  

Before Profumo the worst the satirists could do to Macmillan was to caricature him as Supermac - a combination of actor, father-figure and magician, who could conjure up an unprecedented well-being for the people. After Profumo (although that was not the only reason) he felt unable to continue as Prime Minister. It was a long time, before memories became blanketed to the extent that Macmillan could re-emerge, not as Supermac but as the frail but anguished champion of compassion for the sick, the unemployed, the striking miners.

Of course those old satires were pretty tame stuff compared to the downright Spitting Image, where a pin-striped Thatcher berates Cabinet meetings which are a cross between the Zoo and Bedlam; where Kinnock is a bumbling purveyor of resoundingly empty cliches; where Reagan is not the powerful man in the free world but a brainless narcoleptic. Now that Denis Thatcher has been so pitilessly lampooned as the boozy author of those "Dear Bill" letters, does anyone remember that he he really a rich, manipulative capitalist?

Well this is all very well. As the untiring pedlars of the deception that this murderous social system is the best human beings should hope for, those leaders deserve our contempt. But when we have had a good, contemptuous laugh at them, what then? It was recently officially admitted (as if we didn't suspect it in the first place) that when he was Prime Minister Macmillan decided to suppress the facts about the Windscale Fire in 1957. As an incident, that fire was as serious as Chernobyl; its nuclear pollution was as lethal as Three Mile island. We shall never know how many people have died, and how many more will yet die from its effects but, there is no doubt that some of them would have been saved had the facts been made known at the time. Thirty years afterwards is rather too late for them. The truth was covered up — and the people died — because Macmillan's priority was to protect the interests of the British ruling class in relation to those of their American counterparts.

More recently, it becomes daily more evident that Thatcher was bent on victory in the Falklands war at whatever cost. For one thing, the war tapped a well (which many devotees of the satirists might have assumed to have dried up by 1918) of blind jingoism among the British working class, which helped the Tories to their triumph at the polls in 1983. It was of little account, that hundreds of workers had to die, and hundreds more to suffer horribly, to achieve those victories.

What we are arguing here is that politicians may be laughed at but they must also be taken seriously, for what they are. Their role is to persuade us to keep in being a social system which is not supportable in any human terms. Capitalism deprives the majority of people of a full and happy life; what it leaves of their lives it distorts, commonly into a monster of fear and destruction. In simple terms, it kills and tortures millions of people. It can be justified only through deceit — and that is the source of satirists' raw material.

Yet all this sorry mess rests on the acquiescence, if not the enthusiastic support, of that majority — the people who suffer under capitalism. We don't have to endure this system; there are more effective ways of defending ourselves against its ravages than laughing at its spokespeople. Satire claims to add to the gaiety of our lives when in fact it is a depressingly sterile response to a desperate problem which cries out for an urgent solution. And that is in our hands. If we continue to treat capitalism as a laughing matter the joke will be on us.

'The Naked and the Dead' (1950)

Book Review from the July 1950 issue of the Socialist Standard

It was not for several years after the cessation of actual hostilities that the various "classics: of the first world war, such as "Journey's End," "A Farewell to Arms" and "All Quiet on the Western Front" came before the public eye. By the time they did, the so called glory had faded from victory and the sting from defeat, and writers could view the situation far more accurately. World War Two is now bearing fruit of a similar flavour.

So far most of this work has come from Italy and America, the Italians dealing with the home conditions of defeat, and the Americans with the problems of a victorious army. It is announced that Hemingway is attempting to emulate his own post-1918 success. He has been beaten at the post by John Horne Burns with the "Gallery" (which in many ways reminds one of the Italian film "Paisa") and Norman Mailer with "The Naked and the Dead."

If some of the provincial ladies who gather at the vicar's sewing circle to make comforts for the troops and talk glibly of the glories of war, dared read this book they would be most highly offended. Yet the author purports it to be no more than a portrait of an average American brigade in action in the Pacific during the years between 1941 and 1945.

There is neither grandeur nor glory, pomp nor fulfillment. Instead there is ugliness and cruelty, pettiness and frustration.

The peculiar circumstances in which these men find themselves, in a strange climate, living for months on end in an all male society, waiting to kill or be killed, brings out in them everything that is vicious. Between the men and those dressed in the brief authority of "stripes: petty grievances are magnified into major issues; and the same antagonism exists between the N.C.O.'s and officers, to such a degree that a sergeant wittingly sends an interfering officer to his death. And even among themselves, the officers, N.C.O.'s and men are constantly seeking an excuse to release their high strung tempers. The two Jews and other minorities are the first to suffer.

Behind the lines their conversation is centred almost entirely upon sex in its crudest terms. It is reminiscent of the two soldiers who, at the opening of 'All Quiet on the Western Front," muse upon the use of silk underwear in the officers' brothels. The unnatural monastic order of their existence magnifies this function so much out of proportion that it looses all semblance of normality. Each man tries to outdo the other in the lurid tales with which they pass their time.

It is only a minor battle and they win. The Japanese are driven from the atoll and one prisoner is brutally baited and shot. Searching for souvenirs, the Americans find wallets containing photographs of wives and families in Japan, similar to those which they carry themselves.

Where is the victory? In a piece of jungle land? The dead Japanese may well have been dead Americans. As it is they must fight on, land on another island, fight another battle and continue to degenerate till the conflict ends.

That is the story. Well could it have been the story of a battle at the time of Napoleon, of the Spanish Armada, of Alexander the Great. Throughout the history of property-society wars have been accompanied by horrors beyond description. In the name of freedom, right or justice men have been fed to the Spanish Inquisition, Boers and Indians cast into British concentration camps, Jews and recalcitrants into gas chambers. Women have been raped and children slaughtered. It is impossible to train men to murder, cast them into pools of blood and expect them to retain a sense of proportion. Such conditions as these must breed the inhumanity we witness.

Neither this book nor the others mentioned point to a solution. That is not the task of the novelist. Nevertheless they are useful as pictures of what war is really like—pictures which may inspire the reader to ask himself, "Why should these things be?"

Ronald.

From Our Branches. (1904)

From the September 1904 issue of the Socialist Standard

EAST LONDON.

Our branch is yet in its infancy and has an enormous amount of preliminary work to do with only a small number of member to do it. The area of our propagandist field is very great and so is the spade work necessary to cultivate that field. But as our members are Socialists not merely in name but in reality, whatever we want in membership, we gain in enthusiasm. We are therefore pleased with the work and satisfied with the results. One of our main difficulties is the obtaining of branch premises: a difficulty we hope soon to dispose of. Much interest is shown by the men in East London on all our lectures, many hoping, and this hope is in no wise singular, to shortly throw their time and energy into the East London branch. — I. Blaustein.

EDMONTON.

I hasten to give few words on the position here in hopes that though few, their publication in "The Socialist Standard" may interest comrades in other parts, even if conferring an honour upon sleepy Edmonton.

In future issues of our paper I may be given an opportunity of tracing from their earlier stages the growth of the reform parties, etc., already existing here, and of showing from an analysis of their political manifestations the chief reason of the apathy of the many and the despair of others when forced to contemplate the Social Problem, but meantime it will be sufficient to say that those causes and their results combined simply rendered more imperative than ever the formation of a Socialist organisation in this district—that, therefore, in obedience to the law of necessity, as as the advertiser would put it, "to fill a longfelt want," The Edmonton Branch of the Socialist Party of Great Britain was constituted. Since that moment success has been ours. Our propaganda meetings—of which we hold two every Sunday—have proved very encouraging indeed, fully justifying our appearance. The absolutely unsolicited testimonials given us in the shape of planned attacks upon our meetings by a few persons calling themselves Social-Democrats, have done much to clear the political atmosphere and to show the workers of Edmonton exactly who's who. Needless to say those attacks (some of them dirtier even than the weather we have lately experienced) were by a courtesy and tolerance on the part of our speakers somewhat disconcerting to those men who yet seem ignorant of the power of truth, and who through failing to understand that Socialists can be gentlemen, affect at times the disposition of the hooligan or the bully.

However, be that as it may, those attacks will soon cease. Even a bully knows when he is thoroughly beaten, and as we are not children to be frightened away, but men and women strong in the rectitude of our principles and organised in a party that understands them, being ready at all times, as during the past two months, to give a good account of ourselves—to repel effectually all attempts tp check our progress, no matter under what guise the pseudo-reform-quack politicians choose to appear—we look with assurance to the future. After two months' work we are numerically and financially stronger, richer in enthusiasm, and as firm in our determination to win as we are confident of victory.

For assistance in the past and anticipating a continuance of it in the future, we desire to place on record our appreciation of and indebtedness to, our speakers and the party generally, while to help in organising for the grand, the final fight the workers of Edmonton will gladly welcome our new ally, "The Socialist Standard."

All hail "The Socialist Standard"!

Speed the Social Revolution.—A. Anderson.

FULHAM.
This branch was formed in mid-July and is already carrying on a vigorous and well-conducted propaganda. Our open-air meetings are held at 11.30 a.m. on Sundays at the corner of Waterford Road and King's Road. In Fulham there is a large number of workers who are beginning to understand that nothing short of the Social Revolution will benefit them. Thus there is a good prospect for the success of our branch of the Socialist Party, and it is with the most optimistic of views that the comrades here rally round the flag of The Socialist Party with the determination of helping to build up a sound organisation to free the workers from the enslavement of capitalism.

— E. J. B. Allen. Sec.

ISLINGTON.

The Socialist Party of Great Britain having been inaugurated on the 12th of June, 1904, its Islington branch was formed two days later, on the 14th. Its members commenced their outdoor propaganda with a mass meeting in Finsbury Park on the 19th June, which turned out a success, the audience at one time reaching 2,000. We are carrying on meetings on Sunday mornings and evenings in Finsbury Park. We have also started week night meetings on Wednesday at Highbury Corner, where we meet with an appreciative hearing from an intelligent audience. Our membership is steadily growing, having now reached 20, and this number will be soon augmented as we intend getting in touch with several unattached Socialists who are in agreement with our principles.

—W. L. Auger, Branch Correspondent.

PADDINGTON.

The Paddington Branch was formed the week following the first meeting of the Party. From that time we have made splendid progress. We are increasing our membership, and it is rare for a week to lass without having made new recruits for the cause of Revolutionary Socialism. Our members are giving their best effort and energy, for the purpose of making this district a stronghold of our party. Each member of our branch recognises his responsibility, and takes his place in the fighting line. Since the time we were enrolled as members of The Socialist Party of Great Britain, our propaganda meetings have been attended by increased audiences who take a keen interest in our lectures. We feel convinced now that a straight Socialist Party is formed in this locality, the members of our class will rally to our support.

The sale of good educational literature has increased, showing that insistence upon the existence of the class-struggle and the principles of Socialism clearly explained, create a desire on the part of the working-class to learn more of our movement, and the object for which we are striving. The branch has been successful in opening and extending our propaganda to Regent's Park. The meetings held have been very encouraging, members of the audience expressing their congratulations on our efforts to build up a branch of our party in that district, and we are confident that in a short space of time a new branch will be the result. The increased propaganda has the effect of calling into action all our resources, the result of which has the good effect of developing more members capable of taking the chair at our propaganda meetings, which is a good training for future speakers of the party. Our experience is that punctuality at outdoor meetings is essential to ensure a successful meeting. We find that an audience interested in our propaganda will congregate near the spot, just about the time for the meeting to commence, so that to start late causes a bad impression. The success of our outdoor meetings depends largely on the internal organisation and administration of the branch business. Therefore we strive to improve our organisation by a careful system and method, so that our members know what work they have to perform. The prospect for us looks very bright. We are the only party that can gain the attention of the working-class in this district. With an increasing membership, and a demand for literature, there is a certainty of our paper having a large circulation. It is our intention to leave no stone unturned in extending the sale of "The Socialist Standard" and to keep on forging ahead for the purpose of building up a strong, class-conscious movement in the West of London, which shall be a source of strength and vigour to The Socialist Party of Great Britain.

—T. W. Allen, Secretary.

PECKHAM.

Things are going very well with us in Peckham. Our branch meetings are well attended, our membership is increasing, our members are good workers, we have very good discussions on Friday evenings, which is a good way of training likely speakers. We are putting in good outdoor work, holding well-attended meetings in Rye Lane on Thursday evenings, as well as Sunday meetings on the Rye. So you see, we are going strong.

—W. Russell.

TOOTING.

Considering that the Tooting Branch has been in existence only five weeks, most of which time has been occupied in organising branch, we can hardly claim to have yet enlightened the workers of this district to a true understanding of their position, or to our just claim to be considered The Socialist Party of Great Britain. Nevertheless so encouraging has been our opening, so well attended have been our meetings, that the speaker at a meeting of the S.D.F. announced from the platform that so great had been the spread of Socialism in the district that the formation of another Socialist Party had been rendered necessary. Our explanation of our principles and policy are so much appreciated that every branch meeting has seen an increase to our membership. Our greatest hope is in the intelligent and appreciative audiences we have at our meetings and in the many unattached Socialist in Tooting.

—C. Goss, Sec.

WATFORD.

Since the formation of the Watford branch we have held seven out-door propaganda meetings, and in addition to these on July 31st we had a regular field day, two mass meetings being held, one in the afternoon and one in the evening, the latter with a very large and attentive audience. Our speakers are listened to with attention and interest and questions are usually asked, so much so that comrade Fitzgerald was answering questions for hour and a half on one occasion. Up to the present we have sold about 9s. worth of literature, and hope to materially increase our sales on the advent of the "Socialist Standard." We are running an economic class with comrade Fitzgerald as instructor, which is open for any due to join. Our members are all enthusiastic workers and are determined to do anything in their power to forward the cause of uncompromising Socialism, in spite of a whole host of reform and bogus labour parties.

—C. T. King, Organiser.

WEST HAM.

This branch has started with a fair membership and is pursuing an active propaganda at Dames Road, Forest Gate, one of the best places in West Ham for the purpose. Now we have shaken ourselves down and got into working order, we intend spreading ourselves out a bit and so have arranged to render assistance to other districts. Commencing with the first week in September, we will hold meetings in Devon's Road, Poplar, on Sunday mornings, to assist our East End comrades, who are having an uphill fight in that district. We will hold our own meetings as usual at 7 p.m., and on Monday evenings we shall start propagating our principles at Roden Road, Ilford, where there is every prospect of the early formation of a strong branch. We want some more good, sound literature, and trust that the E.C. of the party will see their way to furnish it at an early date.

—G. H.

(This matter of literature is receiving our most serious consideration.—Ed. Com.)

WOOD GREEN.

This branch is at present holding its branch meetings in the secretary's house. Efforts are being made to secure more suitable premises which can be made the real centre of propaganda in the district. Our members are all real live Socialists, each talking some share in the propaganda of uncompromising Socialism, with the result that our membership has considerably increased. Our meetings at Jolly Butchers' Hill prove that there is a growing interest in our principles, there being questions and discussion at most of those meetings. The branch keeps a keen eye upon local affairs, with the doings and misdoings of the Administrative councils. In Wood Green the future is full of promise for The Socialist Party of Great Britain.

—John Crump, Secretary.

Proper Gander: Do Have Nightmares (2015)

The Proper Gander Column from the January 2015 issue of the Socialist Standard

Crimewatch has been a depressingly regular fixture on BBC1 for over 30 years. Its format has hardly changed over the decades: reconstructions of violent offences, ‘most wanted’ mugshots, and grainy CCTV recordings of robberies and assaults, shown in the hope that viewers who know about them will phone in. Watching this can leave us with the uneasy feeling that masked attackers are stalking every street. Research in 2003 found that the programme increased the fear of crime in over half of its viewers, while a third said it left them feeling afraid. Even if it doesn’t turn us paranoid, Crimewatch reminds us that society can make people alienated and desperate enough to commit the most brutal acts.

The reconstructions are shot with tense music, moody lighting and blurry scenes in slow-motion. These directorial gimmicks are familiar from every single crime drama littering our screens, but feel tasteless when they’re used to depict real, horrific situations. Presumably, the producers of Crimewatch think that this approach is most likely to encourage people to call in. Conversely, the way the programme presents CCTV footage looks more like You’ve Been Framed. There is cheesy music and cheesier wordplay, such as the ‘hamburglars’ stealing from a fast food joint getting ‘£15,000 to go’.

The show also features old investigations reopened because of ‘failings’ or ‘significant mistakes in the police response’ at the time. Today’s police force is presented as much more efficient and precise, especially thanks to advances in DNA identification. The show is an advertisement for the police’s strength as much as it is an appeal for information. Crimewatch, like the police, only focuses on catching criminals. The state can do little else, as it can’t remove the causes of violence built in to the society it defends.

Mike Foster

Cooking the Books: Another Reform Goes Wrong (2015)

The Cooking the Books column from the January 2015 issue of the Socialist Standard

When the Chancellor announced in his Autumn Statement that stamp duty on buying a house was being reformed, to reduce it on most purchases while increasing it on the most expensive, he claimed that this reform would benefit 98 percent of house-buyers. The assumption was that as this tax was being reduced, the price of houses would also fall.

The Chairman of the Office for Budgetary Responsibility, Robert Chote, however, warned ‘the reform could put up prices in some areas, predicting that they would rise where the tax had fallen and fall where it had risen.’

This paradoxical effect is what happens when something for sale is taxed in a sellers’ market as one where demand exceeds supply. This, in fact, is the logic behind the taxes on tobacco, alcohol and petrol. By regulating sales the government creates an artificial sellers’ market which pushes up their price; it then taxes the surplus profits of the sellers.

This situation can also arise without government intervention and is what Chote was predicting with regard to house prices.

John McDermott, in his ‘Since You Asked’ column in the Financial Times (6/7 December) elaborated. He has his questioner say ‘I thought that lower taxes would mean buyers would pay less overall.’ To which he replies:

‘Of course prices will go up. The Office for Budgetary Responsibility, Britain’s fiscal watchdog, estimates that for every 1 per cent fall in the effective rate of stamp duty, house prices rise 1.4 per cent, a house currently worth £300,000 would cost about £2,000 more under the new rates according to Shelter, a housing charity. When you lower  transaction costs of any transaction, there will be more of those transactions. There will be lower transaction costs for 98 per cent of purchases, according to the OBR. In a market where there isn’t a lot of supply, the extra demand will push up prices.’

That’s how the market works. Sellers always charge what the market will bear at any time, irrespective of whether the tax on what they are selling goes up or down. If the tax goes up and the market won’t bear an increase in price, then the tax falls on them. If, on the other hand, the tax is reduced and the market will still bear the same price as before, they won’t pass the reduction on but keep the whole of it for themselves.

If again, as in this case, a tax reduction results in increased demand, this means the market will bear a higher price and the seller will increase the price. And vice versa, as with the higher stamp duty for the most expensive properties, this reduces demand for them forcing the seller to reduce their price.

This phenomenon was noted in the second issue of the Socialist Standard in October 1904 with regard to rates and the price of rented accommodation:

‘When the Central London Railway was opened the competition for houses in Shepherd’s Bush increased largely, and as a consequence rents rose as much as 3s. in the £. This was the limit offered for the time being, and when shortly after rates were raised by a good sum, the rents remained unaltered. At West Ham, which is the most heavily rated district in England, rents are falling, while rates are rising, owing to the decreased demand for houses.’

In any event, taxes on items that workers consume to recreate their labour-power, in so far as they increase or decrease the price of these items, exert, respectively, an upward or a downward pressure on wages. It’s just that, in the field of housing, reforms have a habit of not working out as planned.

My Time and What a Life! (1950)

Book Review from the June 1950 issue of the Socialist Standard

"My Time, My Life," by George Camden, Dent, 8/- 254pp.

They say that sick people cannot read enough about their particular complaint. In the same way many workers, not content with witnessing the misery and unhappiness around them, are eager to read another's experiences of their own conditions. As a result such volumes as William Goldman's "East End, My Cradle," and "Tent of Blue," dealing with the slums and sweat shops of Whitechapel, and Max Cohen's "I Was One of the Unemployed" have earned a fair measure of success. It is likely that "My Time, My Life," will be equally successful. Of its type it is a well-written work.

Need I recapitulate the story? The pre-1939 unemployment, life in two rooms: the economic fear of a young wife at the signs of a second pregnancy; the deep-felt horror of the blitzes; the tragedy of a man returning from work to find his wife and baby dead; these are things we know only too well from the realm of hard experience. Yet Mr. Camden has set it down with a reality which excludes any of the false heroics which so frequently mar a work of this nature. In fact so honestly does Bill Smith, the "S" of this novel, react to his surroundings, that several critics, presumably in search of some treacly glorification of the "man in the street" at war, have condemned him as a cynic and a misery.

Bill Smith, just like his counterparts throughout the whole of the modern world, does not like his position in society, spending the best part of his life on the "ball and chain," released only to the dole or the army. He says, with typical bluntness:

"Brother, it's all double Dutch to me! We don't deal with this type of goods in our neighbourhood. We like each other or hate each other and there's always a good reason for both. We've got no territory except what we pay rent for. And when it comes to our turn in the wooden box we'll all have the same landlord."

How many workers make statements such as this; how many workers are aware of the contradictions and fallacies of the world around the, yet unable to recognise their cause and their cure! If Mr. Camden's work will prompt his readers to answer such questions as the one he poses above and many others besides, it is well worth while, but for those actively seeking a solution we suggest a little less consternation with effects and a lot more with causes.

Ronald.

The People You Meet No. 4 — "George" (1950)

From the February 1950 issue of the Socialist Standard

Every morning you'll see old George on the 8.45 from Ilford to Liverpool Street, with his neatly rolled umbrella and Daily Express. The affairs of the world are decided in his compartment. Lately they have come to the conclusion that the workers are very lazy, impudent in insisting on wage increases, and in need of the "big stick" of unemployment.

"But didn't you say George came from Ilford where one pawnbroker alone left a million pounds? They've got branches of Woolworths', Montague Burton's and every other chain store. They've even got a labour exchange."

Yes, George's district has all those things, and George is a worker too; but never tell him I said so. He'd throw a fit. You see, George has got on in the world. His old man was only a factory hand but he's "something in the city." Where poor old Dad only produces the goods, George has the job of adding up the profits their common master makes on them. He's got his own house in Ilford, or a least will have in ten years' time when he's finished thirty years' mortgage repayment; his own car, only a Ford, but still a car, and his boy is at a fifth-rate public school.

Wage slave? Not at all, says George. George gets a salary cheque. He's very proud of that. Of course, he doesn't realise what this constitutes. Far from being the value of his services, it is no more than the cost of his production. In other words, enough to provide him and his wife and child with food, clothing and shelter with just a little over for entertainment. Of course, he gets more than Dad. He has required more training and it costs more for his upkeep. Imagine the look on the boss's face of George bowled up to work in dungarees; he must wear black coat and striped trousers, well pressed and neat. He must live somewhere respectable. It enhances the good name of the firm.

Yet George knows poverty—an insidious genteel poverty. In Stepney the kid tells the insurance agent that "Mum says she's out." In Ilford George's wife tells him she hasn't cashed his pay cheque. In slumland the poverty is constant and open, in Ilford it hides behind the curtains and a shining door knocker. And George knows other features of capitalism too. Several hundred of his kind recently were axed from the civil service. As the conditions of capitalism grow tighter the administrative workers are the first to be pruned. What then?—addressing envelopes for football pools or going from door to door trying to sell vacuum cleaners on the never-never to workers as poor as himself.

Yet in spite of it all George still won't have it that he's a worker. And it pays the capitalist to foster this belief, to persuade George that he is a member of the mythical "middle class." The squabbles between "officers and employeeds," "staff and hands," "black coat and dungarees" all tend to hide the real struggle between capitalist and wage-slave, irrespective of the form his slavery may take.

But he's in for a shock. The breeze of economic troubles is fact becoming a tornado, and what will he do then? Maybe the shock will do him good, clear the mist from his eyes, and show him his correct alignment—in the ranks of the workers striving for Socialism.

Ronald. 

Editorial: Hopes for the New Year? (2015)

Editorial from the January 2015 issue of the Socialist Standard

January 2015, the start of another year. Time for looking back on past failures and for promising ourselves we will do better in the future. Do politicians indulge themselves in this game? Perhaps they do, but if so, it would give us scant reason to hope that a better future was in prospect for the working class.

Back in 2010, the Tories promised to eliminate the structural deficit by the next election, to be the greenest government ever, and to ensure that the NHS would be ‘safe in our hands’. They promised a ‘Big Society’ (remember that?) which would give power back to the people and encourage individual enterprise. They said they would rescue working people from the benefit trap by making work pay. Later they promised to replace every council house sold with a new, ‘affordable’ home. At the last election, did the British working class trust the Tories and Lib Dems to keep their politicians promises? Did they believe such promises would make their lives better in future? Or did they merely react against the long list of failed pledges made by the previous Labour governments: to keep debt stable, to keep inflation down, to cut youth unemployment, to borrow only to invest, not to raise income tax. Did not Brown, in fact, assure us of increased prosperity; did he not tell us that he had beaten back the trade cycle and there would never be mass unemployment again?

Failure to keep promises is a defining mark of all governments pledged to run capitalism. Sometimes such failures are the result of opportunistic manoeuvring (the Lib Dem’s promise not to raise tuition fees comes easily to mind). Sometimes the promises themselves are no more than convenient lies, bait to catch unwary voters, or balm to sooth working-class anger or pacify their resistance. But when all the parliamentary squabbling and finger-pointing is done, the fundamental underlying cause of such failures is not the stupidity or greed or ignorance of politicians but the workings of capitalism. The economic system, a tightly-woven web of social and legal relationships driven by profit, is its own master, following its own anarchic way, ceaselessly undermining the attempts of governments and corporations to tame or control it.

Perhaps the politicians, servants of capital, eventually come to believe their own promises – it often seems that a capacity for self-deception is a hallmark of a successful career in parliament. But whatever motives lurk behind politicians’ eyes whenever the glib promises come tumbling out of their mouths, capitalism will have its way with them. And it will have its way with us, too, the working class. It was never set up to meet our needs or to fulfil our hopes or dreams. It was not designed to provide for the fulfilment of humanity as a whole.

Whatever hope this new year may bring, it will not lie in the prospect of working people finally electing a capitalist political party that can keep its promises, for unless it is promising us further exploitation, conflict and unfulfilled hopes, such a party does not, and cannot, exist.

Karl Marx in Current Criticism: The Verdict of a Generation. (1913)

From the March 1913 issue of the Socialist Standard 

The Test of Time

Just thirty year have passed since the body of the great path-finder was laid to rest in the grave upon Highgate Hill. Thirty years – the life-time of a generation  – yields a fair test of the truth of the theories advanced by a thinker, and should offer an opportunity to judge a man’s work in something approaching true perspective.

I cannot attempt in these lines a comprehensive survey of the work of Karl Marx. A life of sixty-five years of stress and struggle is not to be examined in a column or two. But some of the main points in Marx’s work may be briefly yet profitably reviewed in the light of our present knowledge.

All kinds of opponents of Socialism profess to offer us something “more in keeping with the times.” But whether it by Syndicalism or Revisionism, Co-partnership or State Capitalism, each and every one of these is seen to be fallacious when tested by the scientific theories put forward by Marx.

Karl Marx is best known, perhaps, by his work Das Capital, a treatise on the production and circulation of commodities which, although  “criticised” in hundreds of volumes by professors and other leading lights of modern society, has never been refuted.

Professor Böhm-Bawerk, the Finance Minister of Austria, urged in his Marx and the Close of his System, that the labour system of value is wrong because Marx failed to take into account scarcity as a factor in fixing value! This expert economist might have seen in the first seven pages of Capital how well scarcity was allowed for. “Diamonds are of very rare oc-currence on the earth’s surface,” wrote Marx (Capital, p. 7), “and hence their discovery costs on an average a great deal of labour time. Consequently much labour is represented in small compass. . .  If we could succeed at a small expenditure of labour in converting carbon into diamonds, their value might fall below that of bricks.” By saying a thing is scarce you can only suggest that it takes a great deal more time to get than if it was plentiful.

Marx’s Awkward Question

All the economists who have blossomed forth since Marx wrote have merely revived theories that were abandoned as useless a century ago by men like Adam Smith and David Ricardo. John Stuart Mill, who pieced together portions of many economists and gave them to the world as his Principles of Political Economy, Prof. Stanley Jevons, with his “Final Utility” theory, the whole Austrian school of economists with their “Marginal Utility” notions; all these, together with the more modem “seers” like Professor Marshall, really base their economics on the old theory of  “Supply and Demand.” The value of an article, in their ides, is fixed by the difference between the supply of that class of goods and the demand for the same.

But Marx asked what fixes the value of an article when supply and demand are equal, and to this question no answer has yet been vouchsafed by the capitalist hacks.

No wonder the well-known German social reformer and critic of Marx, Prof. Werner Sombart, has to confess that “Marx’s theory of Value may perhaps be refuted, but that has not yet been done.”

A Grudging Tribute

This Berlin Professor of political economy writes thus of Marx: “There was reason enough why Marx was able to rank so high among the social philosophers of the nineteenth century and to exercise by the side of Hegel and Darwin so great an influence on the thought of our day. He combined within himself the best philosophy of history current in his time with the knowledge of the highest forms of social life. He knew his Hegel, and he knew his Western Europe, more especially France and England. He gathered all the lines of thought that had preceded from thinkers of previous ages, and was clever enough, perhaps because of his international experience, to pay but little heed to what was accidental in national development and to lay stress on what was typical in the life of society to-day.” (Socialism and the Social Movement, p. 52).

Marx, together with his great co-worker, Frederick Engels, came to the conclusion that the whole of past history since the passing of primitive communism, had been a history of class struggles. These classes – at one time chattel slave owners against the helots, later barons against burghers, now capitalists against wage-labourers – all had their roots in the changing conditions of wealth production and exchange.

The material conditions, says Marx, are the foundation upon which rise all social institutions and when material conditions change so also do the institutions of society.

In his books upon capital Marx laid bare the method of robbing the wage-labourers. He showed that out of the value created by the worker’s energies, the worker receives merely enough to barely subsist on. The surplus of the value created goes to the exploiting employer. Hence there is a conflict of interests between the wage workers and the employers. The latter try to increase the amount of surplus-value and the workers struggle unceasingly against their masters, and must do so while the employers have the power to extract this surplus over the wages paid.

Almost Like Prophecy

This class struggle is the cardinal principle of the Socialist policy. And just as it was opposed in Marx’s day, so now the class struggle theory is fought against by all those who wish to blind the toilers to their true interests. Just as it was true when Marx and Engels wrote the Manifesto of the Communist Party, so now it bears the stamp of irrefutable fact. Marx showed that the progress of  modern capitalism would result in a widening of the gulf that divides the employing class from the working class. He pointed out “in words which seem to many even non-Socialists like prophecy” (wrote Professor R. T. Ely in his Studies in the Evolution of Industrial Society) that wealth would concentrate into fewer bands the more the system grew.

Professor Werner Sombart, the Revisionist of Revisionists previously quoted, says on this point:–

“During the last 20 years, as we know, there has been a concentration of capital by the formation of trusts such as Marx in his boldest flights of imagination could never have dreamed of. Especially is this the case in the United States of America, where we get the best examples of these giant undertakings. According to the latest statistics, no less than 8,664 concerns which were formerly independent are now amalgamated in a few Trusts with a capital of 20,000 million dollars. Of these seven of the ‘greater’ industrial trusts contain 1,528 concerns formerly independent, and possess a capital of 2,663 million dollars. The six largest railway trusts are even better placed; they have a capital of 9,017 million dollars! ”

The truth of the class struggle has been driven home with more tragic emphasis than ever during the last few years. The wide-spread , strikes and lock-outs, the fiendish cruelty of the employers toward their rebellious slaves all over the capitalist world, has induced even capitalist authorities to “lament” the growth of “labour unrest” and of class strife.

Marx’s Magnificent Achievement

Socialism became in Marx’s hands a part of social science. The schemes of St. Simon Fourier, Cabet, and Owen were based upon abstract principles like “justice,” “truth,” and “right.” They appealed to the “moral” side of the wealthy, and hoped to see communities established in accord with their ideals. Cabet with his “Icarie”, Robert Owen with his “New Harmony” community, each thought to solve the social problem and end the social strife by his carefully planned colonies. But their failure serves as a lesson accentuating the need for science in social action instead of Utopian ideas.

Marx rescued Socialism from the hands of the Utopian and placed it upon a foundation of scientific fact. Not moral appeals, but organised political action was the way to fight the capitalists. Society, said Marx, moved not because of changing morals, but under the pressure of growing economic forces making a change in social forms inevitable.

Even such an opponent of Marx as Mr. J. Ramsay Macdonald has made the admission (Socialism and Society, preface) that “Marx’s co-ordination of historical facts and explanation of historical movement from the point of view of the Hegelian left wing brought the whole theory of Socialism from the misty dreams of vague desire to the clearly defined empire of science.”

It used to be the regular custom in the party to which the above labour “leader” belongs to anathematise Marx and consign him to oblivion as a sociologist. But the place of prominence which history has tardily given Marx, the esteem which he has won in the minds of serious working men and women, have forced the I.L.P. to change their tactics and hence they cling to the name of Marx whilst outraging every principle for which Marx stood.

Mr. Keir Hardie, who derives his “economics” from Jesus Christ, says in his My Confession of Faith in the Labour Alliance: “The Labour Party practices the Marxian policy of the Class Struggle”. Such a statement, of course, is utterly false. the alliance with the most bitter enemies of the working class such as the Liberal manufacturers, for the purpose of “getting in”, is certainly part of the class struggle, but the Labour Party take sides in that struggle with the masters. Even their own members such as Philip Snowden and F.W. Jowett, have confessed to the reactionary position of their party.

Marx’s whole life was guided by the principle of “No Compromise”. Because of his refusal to truckle to the rulers of Germany he was hunted down and put on trial for sedition. Paper after paper was suppressed, and in their effort to crush “the terrible Marx”, the German powers even incited the French and Belgian Governments to thrust him from their shores. But how different did the leader of the British Labour Party get treated!

Karl Marx was persecuted with all the force of the law, but Mr. Macdonald is especially invited to lunch with the German Emperor, an invitation which he gladly accepted.

Doesn’t this alone show how false to the toilers’ interest is this Labour Party? Defiance, not deference to capitalism, was Marx’s motto, and he always opposed any flirting with the enemies of the Red Flag. In the early days of the International he strenuously fought against the attempts of Charles Bradlaugh to enter the organisation, because even then Bradlaugh was showing signs of joining hands with the Liberals.

Marx’s exposure of the Liberal Labour leader George Howell brings home his hatred of those who acted as decoys for the masters. He did not hesitate in 1875 to oppose the union of the followers of Lassalle with the Workingmen’s Party of Germany at Gotha, even though he lost many friends thereby. The Lassalleans were Utopians, and desired to inscribe on the Unity programme State Co-operation in Industry as the policy of the party. The trenchant attack of Marx remains a beacon for the toilers to-day, when men talk of “Socialist unity”, but want us to sacrifice our Socialism in order to become “united”.

Now and again the reactionary “leaders of Labour” to-day admit the soundness of Marx’s revolutionary policy. For instance, Mr. Ramsay Macdonald says in Socialism and Society (page 9):–

“We seem to have reached the maximum improvement which the present system can yield. Further ameliorative efforts of a purely reforming character can produce little fruit”.

The main theory of the Labour leaders at present is for a legal minimum wage. Talking of his late wife’s advocacy of this nostrum Mr. R. Macdonald tells us (“Margaret Ethel McDonald: a Memoir”): “Once she said with a whimsical smile: ‘when the last Wages Board will have given its last decision, we shall still have to go upon the housetops and shout with Marx ‘Workers of the World, Unite! You have nothing to lose but your chains’”.

Marx laboured to keep the working class upon the right road to their salvation. Amidst deepest poverty, hunted across frontiers, turned out of doors because of failure to find the rent, refused work even as a manual labourer, the mighty proletarian thinker never wavered from the work of his life. The story of his struggles has never been fully told, but the glimpses we get of his life are sufficient to stimulate us to the fullest extent to prosecute the work of educating our fellows in Socialism with the material he placed ready to our hands, and organising them for its realisation on the basis which he so clearly indicated.

Adolph Kohn

What about art? (2004)

From the August 2004 issue of the Socialist Standard

Among the perennial questions asked of socialists are some concerning the likely attitude to art in socialism. For example, how would Socialist society treat any artistic elite, and who would have access to famous works? Names like Michelangelo and Leonardo da Vinci are likely to figure in such questions.

    

The appreciation of works of art today can be tempered by what they would fetch in the sale room, at which time they take the form of commodities. The identity of the artist is then of greater moment than the aesthetic appeal of a work. If a painting is reassigned by specialists as being the work of a studio assistant its value can be totally undermined. Museums house interesting and beautiful works (and some to hurry past), not all of them on display. Or we can see pictures and antique furnishings displayed in the grand surroundings of some stately home, all serving as a reminder that ownership of ‘great’ works of art has long been the prerogative of the rich and powerful. It was for example no accident that the wealthy city states of Northern Italy were also influential artistic centres, and the setting for the Renaissance. In fact in all the regions where there was financial prosperity through trade, and “wealthy entrepreneurs to purchase”, important artists were to be found.

Renaissance Italy

It was a time of expansion in trade and banking, including credit facilities. What Lisa Jardine refers to as the “dawning of a high culture of commodities” meant that those who prospered from their banking and trading activities, like the Medici family, were able to indulge in conspicuous consumption (Worldly Goods, p. 124). Art works were part of this display of wealth and position. Objects appear in paintings, including those with religious themes, which reflect the luxurious lifestyles of the patrons and their families. Both patrons and artists were inspired by the revival of interest in classical art and in science and learning.

    

Dignitaries from church and state commissioned buildings, sculpture and paintings from masters which were then designed in their workshops. Artists, painters and sculptors learned their trade in the workshops of an established master, often a goldsmith. Taken on as apprentices to provide cheap labour, or because they were paying for their tuition, they would begin with cleaning and preparation of materials and in due course progress to assisting with commissioned works. The master might leave his assistants to finish a work, or might finish a work that had been started by others. Artists could also attend at the workshops of other masters. It is likely that Leonardo da Vinci, as well as the workshop of Verrocchio, also attended at that of Antonio and Piero Pollaiuollo who “flayed cadavers to study the anatomy and function of the muscles” (Leonardo The Artist and the Man, Serge Bramly, p. 98). Piero was at the forefront in the use of sketching to capture aspects of the human figure. This peculiarly Florentine development in the use of drawing “was the basis for a new understanding of the human figure”.  Leonardo benefited from the development and carried it forward, “in his hands it became a major tool of exploration of the human figure . . . and many other subjects” (Man and the Renaissance, Andrew Martindale, p.47).

    

Individual artists made ‘extraordinary imaginative leaps’, but genius did not just drop from the sky. Michelangelo may have had sudden inspiration about how to fulfil the commission in the Sistine Chapel, but as a youth he had served a three-year apprenticeship in the workshop of Domenico Ghirlandaio before turning to the study of the great masters of the past, including Greek and Roman sculptors. His drawings reflect his considerable ability as a sculptor, as well as his study of human anatomy which, like that of Leonardo da Vinci, included the dissection of bodies. Once a breakthrough had been made, such as the working out of linear perspective or in the way materials could be used, it would be emulated by other artists and pupils. A clarification of some of the sources for the discoveries and inventions credited to Leonardo showed that he had “precursors and masters whose thoughts he pursued or revived” (Serge Bramly, Introduction, p.11)

    

If the Renaissance was a time of a flowering in the arts, what might we expect of the period following the establishment of common ownership and democratic control of the earth and its resources?

Socialism 

We do not claim perfection for a socialist world, only that it will be possible to first clear up the mess left by capitalism, and then to deal with new challenges as they arise by the unfettered application of human knowledge, imagination and ingenuity. Socialism is not just about providing for material needs, it is a whole life proposition. Consider the situation where all production is solely for use, with leisure and entertainment no longer industries, but simply activities necessary to human well-being; work and recreation not as now separate parts of life but viewed as an integrated whole. The need to be creative, to expend mental and physical energies, which is part of our identity as human beings, could be fulfilled by different aspects of work and leisure according to individual choice. People living in free association will be able to choose the kind of contribution they wish to make to the common good, undertaking study and training as necessary.

    

Clearly it would not do if too many chose to make an artistic contribution to the exclusion of the more practical occupations. But it is likely that relatively few would choose to undertake artistic work only. Socialism can only happen if the majority of the working class make the conscious decision to implement it; implicit in this decision is a willingness to co-operate in order to fulfil the totality of needs.

    

The idea of an elite in artistic achievement is in line with the ethos of capitalism that the inequality in society is there because human beings are unequal. We would not expect everyone to have identical aptitudes, tastes and skills, but where the social aim is human happiness individuals will be able to discover just what their abilities are and to realise their full potential as human beings. The way will be open for a far greater involvement in art, and for the blossoming of all kinds of talent, with the achievement of excellence perhaps being considered as normal. The idea of an elite could be turned on its head.

    

Still there will be some whose work in art and architecture, as in other fields, earn the extra esteem of the community. It is worth remembering that artists did not always attach great importance to individual recognition. Artists have not always put signatures on their work. The names of the masters responsible for the sculptures of Chartres, Strasbourg and Naumburg are not known. “No doubt they were appreciated in their time, but they gave the honour to the cathedral in which they worked” (The Story of Art, E. H. Grombrich, p. 205).

    

In former times it was the fashionable young men who made the Grand Tour, perhaps accompanied by a water colour artist, now many with more modest means are able to travel and see architectural wonders and gaze upon the vault in the Sistine Chapel, though it is probably from books and television programmes that many ‘great’ art works have become more familiar. Recognising that most people would see his Pearblossom Hwy (1986) in the form of a poster – the work is 10ft across – David Hockney printed 5,000 copies for an exhibition, taking great care with the production of the poster (That’s the way I see it, David Hockney, 1993, p. 115).

    

A world of common ownership will not make it more difficult to enjoy works of art. Museums could still have a useful role in this, and computer-generated copies could be made available. There will be no special kudos attached to the ‘possession’ of items. The idea of what constitutes great art can change through time, though some works continue to have an appeal long after the age which produced them. Those who live in a time when the sole purpose of art is to enrich life will be able to judge the art works produced in previous eras from an enhanced perspective.

    

The story of art, which is as old as Homo sapiens, will continue to unfold, and will no doubt include achievements which equal and even surpass those of the great artists of the past.  Developments in the choice of materials, in styles of building, and in the choice of subject matter for sculpture and painting are for that future to discover. If problems concerning attitudes to art should arise they will be of a kind that a society of equals will be very capable of resolving.

Pat Deutz