The man on the flying trapeze (1975)

From issue number 2 (1975) of The Western Socialist

A chronic(le) expounder of "simpleminded" politics tells it like it is not!

Charles McCabe is a newspaper Journalist who writes a dally column for the San Francisco Chronicle. He is widely regarded around these parts as a liquor drinking philosopher; a commentator upon man’s many foibles, his failures and his successes, but an Omar Khayyam he is not. A wiseacre yes, and when in his cups a savant of no mean regard.

Now Mr. McCabe Is one of those high-wire journalists, who is able — so it would seem — to oscillate effortlessly from problem to problem, subject to subject, without so much as even a casual glance at the danger below. Or even regard for the accuracy of his undoubted mental gymnastics. He is, to boot, a latter day Cassandra. A self-proclaimed Humanist, a Liberal-Anarchist, going along with J. S. Mill who “argues not only for political freedom but social freedom, not only against the tyranny of the majority but also against the social tyranny of prevailing conventions and opinions.” So he says.

So last Monday’s (1/27/75) sermon to the “laity” (McCabe’s term) was no less tendentious than most if not all of Mr. McCabe’s intellectual carousing.

Friendship vs. Politics

It seems that Mr. Alistair Cooke, who is well known on both sides of the Atlantic (whereas Mr. McCabe only this side) in a recent talk to the BBC made this observation : “To be close only to people who share your own political views and prejudices is not only a terrible restriction on the world of friendship, but is a denial of life itself, since life itself is a good deal larger and richer and more complicated than politics.”

Now no one but a myopic wombat would deny that life without friendship would indeed be a very sad mess of pottage. But for Alistair Cooke to claim that life as we now experience it is larger than politics and more complicated to boot, is a proposition of another vintage.

However, as I have said before, Mr. McCabe is no slouch, and if the wind is in the right direction, he will dribble niftily along any old intellectual tightrope, not only not caring whether it sags in the middle — and this one certainly does — but proclaiming his unqualified support with Alistair Cooke’s statement with the following unctuous observation: “A well-put statement as nearly all of Mr. Cooke's are, and one very near to my heart, as nearly all of Mr. Cooke’s sentiments are.”

Mr. McCabe then goes on to compound Mr. Cooke's naivete with the sure-fire prerogative of the ignorant by proclaiming “My politics are, in fact, rather simpleminded. I’m against all well-intentioned kindnesses to others, apart from the essential kindness of letting them do their own thing within the framework of laws against hurting, killing and stealing.’’ (Wanna bet!)

In support for this muddled-thinking, Mr. McCabe (who is also a name-dropper) drags in poor old Mrs. Patrick Campbell’s trite remark about homosexuals “It doesn’t matter what you do in the bedroom as long as you don’t do it in the street and frighten the horses.’’ The irrelevance of this quote by Mr. McCabe, in relation to the substance of his article, would make Mrs. Campbell and the horses whinny in their graves.

The milk and water approach to human affairs as evinced by Mr. McCabe is touching, and no doubt would get a lot of votes from most sections of a befuddled populace! it is therefore pertinent to ask of Mr. McCabe whether his sentimental approach to violence, killing and stealing would motivate an advocacy against the laws in favour of the appropriation by the capitalist class of the surplus wealth produced by the working class, because it is this particular situation that at base causes the hurting, killing and stealing which Mr. McCabe tells us he finds so objectionable. And also if Mr. McCabe felt so disposed to crusade against capitalism would the columns of the San Francisco Chronicle still be available to him?

Politics Bigger Than He Thinks

Mr. McCabe expresses the view in his column that “politics is but a part of the full life and not so damned big part at that.” Is that so? Let him read the San Francisco Chronicle, for which he writes, and see how much space is allocated to that which is supposed to constitute the full life! Unless he is referring, of course, to the Society Columns.

The blood and guts of the situation is that our whole existence today is dominated by economics, and politics is the stock in trade, the tools we use to deal with the problems spawned from a particular economic predicament—that of poverty amidst plenty.

Capitalism is the society that has long since overcome all of the main problems of production to the extent that all human life could adequately be sustained: its failure, however, lies in its inability to distribute these goods and services which it so obviously hasn’t the power to do. Distribution in capitalist society demands the repository of the market place and the possession of money. The latter presupposes the former.

With the exception of the capitalist class most of us are quarantined to live out our lives on a wage packet. Capitalism’s problem is to dispose of the surplus wealth produced by the working class, for which they do not get paid. If society were able to have free access to this surplus wealth, not only would we then be able to live the full life, but It would mean the end of politics as well.

Politics, political activity, is that function that lays claims to the various opposing interests between (1) rival sections of the capitalist class, primarily over the vexing question of taxation — who shall pay what to whom and how much, and (2) between rival national capitalists the world over. Over the question of markets; cheap or cheaper sources of raw materials; trade routes and spheres for investment; warfare, internecine warfare, is the scenario which politics has to deal with and in the process whole countries are decimated, and many, many more live in constant deprivation. If after this “ball game” there is anything left over to live the “full life” perhaps Mr. Alistair Cooke would care to comment on it, and Mr. Charles McCabe would care to drool about it.

Harry Hamme

The assassination of art (1975)

From issue number 1 (1975) of The Western Socialist

In a democratic society, art is politics in the widest sense, a celebration of common values which sweep away the old and clears the way for the new needs of man.

Victor Jara, Chilean play producer, singer guitarist, was a supporter of the Allende regime. In the military coup that followed he was assassinated on 15th September 1973. They broke his guitar fingers before breaking his spine. Bullets were then shot into his body.

He is one more addition to the many creative people in history who have become too dangerous to live. For the arts are not amusements, ornamental skills, diversions, comforts for tired businessmen or social polish for the pretentious. At least, not to the men who wield political power. The arts communicate and communication is the most potent force for progress and change.

History is full of the power of the arts, not the overt expression of dissatisfaction nor the blatant clarion call to rise and fight but the uniquely potent expression of ideas which show that man is ready for change. Art is a barometer and a celebration, a mirror to the emotional and intellectual development of man. The artist says, “This is man, how he feels, how we feel,” and once said, it can never be repealed. The ideas catch fire in the minds of men, not because they are new and logical but because they express clearly what people feel but cannot quite themselves make known.

George Bernard Shaw provocatively said that art is propaganda. It is this but far more. In a democratic society, art is politics in the widest sense, a celebration of common values which sweeps away the old and clears the way for the new needs of man.

This does not mean that artists are consciously political in the modern use of the term. In fact, the moment an art becomes consciously political, it usually ceases to be art. The pamphleteer is not an artist because he knows rationally exactly what he wants to say before saying it. He may express new values but they are communicated on a mechanically logical level. There is no bridge of feeling between the old and the new for the mass of the people, still struggling to understand their own feelings, to make the crossing. Art does not lead the needs of man; it expresses them and man, whose evolution is on a social and economic level rather than a physical one, can develop further because he then knows clearly where he is. He recognizes as his the values expressed by the artist.

But some artists do not communicate in their own time. They may lead the way for other artists to follow but they themselves may be a little too far ahead of their time. These artists are sometimes called “important” as distinct from “great”, the universally recognized artists who signify a whole epoch or “celebrate” a common feeling.

Both kinds of artists can be dangerous to the established powers but the “important” artists are more easily destroyed than the “great” ones. They are less supported, less recognized and their deaths provoke less reaction.

The Un-American Activities Committee could not destroy Charles Chaplin or Arthur Miller nor could the Soviets destroy Yevtushenko but artists with less recognition, ahead of their time and people, are frequently destroyed in the power struggles of the world.

President Allende did not have the control of the Chilean parliament or of the army and his own political programme did not have the understanding of the peasants. He was supported as a leader and all this suggests that he was not really the spokesman for the people. The intellectuals and artists who supported him were therefore not truly representative of the people; they were a little before their time. Victor Jara died because his death meant a delay in his ideas developing among the people. Had he been expressing true national feelings, his martyrdom would have been too dangerous because of the possible reaction. More importantly, his martyrdom would have been irrelevant because his values would already be held by the majority of people anyway.

Throughout the world, the fate of the Allende administration has been hailed by the left and the right wings as an illustration that a majority of people cannot change society by democratic and constitutional methods. In actual fact it merely illustrates the futility of a vanguard group trying to lead an ignorant mass of followers into a change which the majority do not understand. When you can destroy a leader and destroy a cause, destroying a leader is obviously the best solution.

A second moral can be drawn. We must learn to respect and protect our artists whatever their political opinions. A society which neglects them is destroying its capacity to change.

Mark Fury, 

S. P. of New Zealand