The Butcher of the Commune. (1909)

From the August 1909 issue of the Socialist Standard

“It is a lie—their Priests, their Pope,

Their Saints:—their . . all they fear or hope

Are lies, and lies …”

Had Robert Browning’s victim of the Inquisition lived in our own time she could have added “their Press” to her list of lying agents. The truth of this is never more clearly seen than on the occasion of a popular military “hero” shuffling off this mortal coil.

On July 8th, at his house in Paris, expired General the Marquis of Gallifet, Prince of Martigues, etc., at the advanced age of 79. This old Bonapartist scoundrel, referred to by capitalist journals, both French and English, as “Famous French Fighter,” “Friend of King Edward,” “Great loss to France,” etc., etc., was in reality an unscrupulous and abandoned wretch, who, by his cold-blooded murders at the time of the Commune, earned the undying hatred of all who hold dear the cause of working-class freedom.

As Socialists we cannot fail to be struck by the wonderful and significant unanimity displayed by the organs of Capital on both sides of the Channel, when estimating the dead “hero’s” character.

Thus the Daily News, peaceful persuader and mouthpiece of reform, whilst lightly touching on his “severe repression in 1871,” gave due prominence to “his services to France.” The Petit Journal of July 9th wrote as follows :

“Eccentricities of character could not justify the story of executioner in civil warfare. It is said he took a fiendish pleasure in butchering conquered federals who had fallen into his hands. No trustworthy evidence of any weight has ever come to light to support these accusations, against which he was always unwilling to defend himself; finding that, as he himself once wrote in a letter, ‘to apologise would be wanting in elegance’ !”

No trustworthy evidence !

The Commune was dead. The last barricade had been captured and its brave defenders either massacred or taken prisoners.

The special correspondent of the Daily News (how “the whirligig of time brings in his revenges”) whilst searching for appropriate “copy” amongst the barricades, had the misfortune to fall in with Gallifet’s soldiers, who, despite the fact that the pressman held a pass from the Versailles Government, forced him to join a herd of unarmed prisoners.

These poor wretches were being marched from Paris to Versailles.

The description by this eye-witness of the scenes on the road has often been quoted.

“The column of prisoners halted in the Avenue Uhrich, and was drawn up, four deep, on the footway, facing to the road. General the Marquis de Gallifet and his staff, . . . dismounted and commenced an inspection from the left of the line. Walking down slowly and eyeing the ranks, the General stopped here and there, tapping a man on the shoulder or beckoning him out from the rear ranks. In most cases without further parley, the individual thus selected was marched out into the centre of the road, where a small supplementary column was thus soon formed. . . It was evident that there was considerable room for error. A mounted officer pointed out to Genera! Gallifet a man and a woman for some particular offence. The woman, rushing out of the ranks, threw herself on her knees, and, with outstretched arms, protested her innocence in passionate terms. The General waited for a pause, and then with most impassive face and unmoved demeanour, said : ‘Madame, I have visited every theatre in Paris ; your acting will have no effect upon me’ (ce n’est pas la peine de jouer la comedie) . . It was not a good thing on that day to be noticeably taller, dirtier, cleaner, older, or uglier than one’s neighbours. One individual in particular struck me as probably owing his speedy release from the ills of this world to his having a broken nose. . . Over a hundred being thus chosen, a firing party told off, and the column resumed its march, leaving them behind. A few minutes afterwards a dropping fire in our rear commenced, and continued for over a quarter of an hour. It was the execution of these summarily convicted wretches.” Daily News, June 8th, 1871.

This description was deemed worthy of a leading article on the next day. The following is a brief abstract:

“. . For the touch of M. de Gallifet’s fingers meant death. The appearance of the unfortunate men and women who were thus singled out for execution is described as being something horrible. One already wounded, his shirt soaked with blood, sat down in the road and howled with anguish . . . others wept in silence ; two soldiers, presumed to be deserters, pale but collected, appealed to all the other prisoners as to whether they had ever seen them amongst their ranks. . . The huddled mass of corpses which was subsequently seen by several horror-stricken correspondents showed where M. le Marquis had passed.”—Daily News, June 9, 1871.

From the “Manifesto of the Working Men’s International” we take the following:

“The captured soldiers of the line were massacred in cold blood ; . . . Gallifet, the kept man of his wife, so notorious for her shameless exhibitions at the orgies of the Second Empire, boasted in a proclamation of having commanded the murder of a small troop of National Guards, with their captain and lieutenant, surprised and disarmed by his Chasseurs.”

Does the Petit Journal want any further evidence ?

Our message is to the working class. We bid them to remember that at all times the powers that be are determined to maintain their supremacy by every means in their power. If they cannot gull the workers by political cheating, lying and chicanery, they are prepared to shoot down men, women and children by thousands rather than surrender one jot or tittle of their beloved “rights of property.”

Like every other class in the course of history, the ruling class came into power by means of the command they held of armed force. When we have sifted and winnowed out the chaff of “comforts of religion,” “respect for law and order,” “adaptability.” and all the other canting phrases beloved of labour niisleaders we find that the ultimate appeal is to force. Ignorance plays a great part in helping to keep the workers in subjection, but it is by force the “super” class hold their position. We must consciously organise therefore for the capture of the armed forces in order to convert them from an instrument of oppression into an agent of emancipation. Let this “consummation devoutly to be wished” once become a fact, then those brave souls who perished in the Commune will not have died in vain.

Fritz.

The Suez Canal in World Affairs (1953)

From the July 1953 issue of the Socialist Standard

The Suez Canal is the gateway to the Orient, the connecting link between East and West, between Britain and the members of the Commonwealth in the East.

The story of the Canal and the struggle for control of this area is told by Hugh J. Schonfield in “The Suez Canal in World Affairs,” published by Constellation Books, London.

Many centuries ago the wealth of the East was brought to the Mediterranean via Egypt. About 2,000 years B.C. a canal was built joining the Red Sea and the Nile. This canal, called the Canal of the Pharoahs, was silted up and rebuilt during successive reigns and renamed under succeeding empires. Finally it was closed in 776 A.D. while Egypt was under Arab domination. Then trade between the East and West declined, in the 13th and 14th centuries Marco Polo and other travellers opened up the Northern Overland route to India and China. The growth of the aggressive power of Turkey blocked this route. A new route was sought. Christopher Columbus sailed west and Vasco de Gama rounded the Cape of Good Hope. The Cape route gave successively the monopoly of Eastern trade to the Portuguese, the Dutch, the French and the British. To gain and maintain this monopoly Britain made herself mistress of the seas.

France with her southern seaboard on the Mediterranean was interested in opening up the ancient route to the East through Egypt. But competition with the Cape route was impossible while goods had to be carried by camel to Alexandria, then transhipped. A canal between Suez and Cairo was suggested, but the political and practical obstacles seemed insurmountable. Egypt was part of the Ottoman Empire and it was thought that there was a difference of 30ft. in the sea levels of the Mediterranean and the Red Sea. English merchants aware of French designs sought privileges in Egypt. Both French and English governments sought influence in Egypt and Turkey and when war broke out between England and France in 1793, France tried to establish herself there, but Britain put an end to these territorial ambitions by defeating the French at the Battle of the Nile.

About 30 years after, an Englishman Lieut. Waghorn started a postal route to India via Egypt demonstrating practically the advantages of this route. Engineers investigated the question of the difference in sea levels and a sect founded by the utopian socialist Saint Simon set up an organisation to examine the question of a canal financially and technically. An alternative scheme for building a railroad was put forward, supported by Britain. But France continued to retain her interest in the canal. Both Governments sought concessions from the Viceroy of Egypt who played the one against the other. When the Viceroy died, Britain received a concession to build a railroad because she had paid court to his successor. The dispute between France and Britain might have become serious if they had not been already allied in prosecuting the Crimean War.

The advantage gained by Britain was offset when Ferdinand de Lesseps received a concession from Mahomet Said, the next Viceroy, authorising him to form an international company to build a canal. The British Government opposed the venture and effectively warned off British capital from taking part in it. But after the construction of the canal Britain realised her mistake and bought up about half the shares. Then in 1882 when rioting broke out in Alexandria British troops took possession. Britain wished to preserve the right to defend the Canal if any Power attacked Egypt and to guarantee with other Powers to keep the Canal open in peace and in war. Other Powers disagreed but a compromise was reached with the Convention of 1888, which made Turkey nominal guardian and guaranteed to keep the Canal open in any circumstances. But Britain still remained in Egypt.

Germany, seeking means of expansion, seized on the possibilities of the undeveloped near East and set out to build the Berlin-Bhagdad Railway which would offset Britain's domination of Egypt and her use of the Suez Canal. When war broke out between Britain and Germany in 1914, Egypt lined up with Britain and closed the Canal to enemy shipping. Turkey, seeking to regain control in Egypt set out to invade it. Britain made Egypt a Protectorate and with the defeat of Germany and Turkey became guardian of the Canal.

In 1922, Egypt was declared an independent stale but the Egyptian Government was dissatisfied with the conditions of the declaration. Italy's longstanding threat to Britain in the Mediterranean culminated in the declaration of war against France and Britain in 1940. The Canal was attacked by air and Egypt was attacked by land from Libya. Because of Italy's lack of success Germany took a hand. For a considerable time the Mediterranean was closed to allied shipping but with the halting of Rommel at El Alamein the Canal was made safe to send aid to Russia in the effort to defeat the Japanese in the Far East.

Since World War II, Egypt has sought to terminate the 1936 Agreement which allows British troops to occupy the Canal Zone. But Egypt, like all other belligerents in war, has shown that she won't pay any attention to the 1888 Convention which guaranteed to keep the Canal open to all shipping in peace or war. In the conflict between Israel and the Arab League, Egypt stopped supplies going to Israel.

Mr. Schonfield's story of the Canal shows its importance to the capitalist Powers in peace and in war.

Today Egypt wants Britain to evacuate her troops from the Canal Zone but Britain is reluctant to do so until she is assured of strong Middle East defences. Certain sections of British capitalist class opinion would like to make the Canal Zone the central base in these defences because of its geographical position, and oppose handing over to Egypt this base with its hundreds of millions of pounds worth of installations. Other sections of the British capitalist class remember the limited use of the Canal during the two world wars and its vulnerability to land attack and are of the opinion that the North East Mediterranean coast with the mountains behind forming a barrier to landborne troops would provide a more suitable base. They claim that the Canal will decline in importance with the increasing use of air instead of the sea for conveying troops and equipment.

To understand why the Canal is important it is necessary to know something about present day society. The means of producing society’s needs are owned by a small section of society, the capitalist class, and the vast majority, the working class, must sell their labour power to the few who own those means of production. In exchange for their labour power the workers receive wages that are very often barely enough to live on. What the workers produce over their wages allows the capitalist class to live comfortably and increase their capital. To realise this surplus the capitalist class must sell their goods and must find raw materials with which they can be produced. This means that there must be trade routes to bring the raw materials from where they are produced to where they are needed and to take the finished articles to the markets where they can be sold. And to protect these trade routes in event of war the different sections of the capitalist class struggle for control of strategic points.

Mr. Schonfield would like to sec the dream of Ferdinand de Lesseps come true. He would like the Canal used for the benefit of humanity. He would like the Canal used to build up the backward countries and raise their standards of living. But if the Canal is to be used for the benefit of humanity the means of living will have to be the property of all society. Then goods won’t be produced and exchanged for the profit of the few but distributed solely for the use of all.

J. T.

Cooking the Books: Some reformists never learn (2024)

The Cooking the Books column from the August 2024 issue of the Socialist Standard

When, after losing the European elections to the National Rally (formerly the Front National), Macron called a snap election, the politicians regrouped to contest it. On the left, the hard-left breakaway from the ‘Parti Socialiste’ France Unbowed, the Communist Party, the Greens and the PS itself formed a New Popular Front (NFP) which emerged as the largest group in the National Assembly.

In an article in the Guardian (2 July), Julia Cagé and Thomas Piketty (yes, him) described its economic policy and the logic behind it. They wrote of its:

‘ambitious policies to improve the purchasing power of poor and lower-middle-class people. These reforms include a substantial increase in the minimum wage, wages indexed to prices and free school lunches. Most importantly the NFP wants to prioritise investment in the future by increasing public spending on infrastructure – throughout the country, including in isolated rural areas – as well as in health, education and research’.

The two are co-authors of a book about elections in France since 1789 in which they concluded that it was people in small towns and rural areas that tended to vote far-right ‘first and foremost because of socio-economic concerns: they lack purchasing power, they suffer most from the lack of investment in public infrastructure’, adding ‘and they feel that they have been abandoned by governments of all stripes in recent decades’. Hence the rise of the far-right.

This seems plausible enough; it’s unlikely to be just because they want to kick immigrants out or stop more coming in (that’s only the false solution proposed by the far-right). Cagé and Piketty reckon that, if the parties of the left increase purchasing power and spending on public infrastructure they can win people away from the ex-Front National.

An increase in people’s purchasing power through higher and indexed wages and benefits and more government spending on public services and amenities is all very well but where is the money to come from? Ultimately, there is only one source: the profits of business enterprises. But the pursuit of profits is what drives the capitalist economy and if you tax them too much to redistribute income to the ‘poor and lower-middle-class’ or to pay for first class health care and education that will provoke an economic slowdown, making this unsustainable. That’s the way capitalism works and can only work: by giving priority to profits over satisfying people’s needs. Despite the political slogan, profits cannot be put before people.

The last time this was tried in France was in 1981 after Mitterrand was elected President and a government including the Communist Party came into office. In June the new government increased people’s purchasing power by putting up the minimum wage, pensions, family allowances and housing benefit but the result was a disastrous failure compared to which what happened under Truss was a storm in a teacup.

The increase in benefits had been paid for by recourse to the printing press; as a result, the internal price level in France got out of line with the international level. The franc was devalued in October and again in June 1982. By this time, the government had learned the lesson that if you are in office under capitalism you must respect its economic laws, and rowed back on its reforms, giving priority instead to trying to revive the profits of business enterprises and adopting a policy of ‘rigueur’ regarding wages and benefits. In March 1983 the franc had to be devalued for a third time.

While, to judge by the programme of the NFP, reformists in France have not learned by their previous failures to improve people’s lives by increasing their purchasing power, reformists in Britain have. The new Chancellor of the Exchequer here is skipping trying to do this and going straight to the ‘rigueur’ stage, called here fiscal responsibility.

Political and Moral (2023)

Book Review from the January 2023 issue of the Socialist Standard

Capitalism. The Story Behind the Word. By Michael Sonenscher. Princeton University Press. 2022.

This short book – the author calls it an essay – in the field of political and moral philosophy explains that the words ‘capitalist’ and ‘capitalism’ originated in France.

Capitaliste was the name given in the 18th century to those with money – capital – who lent it to the government to pay for its wars. Capitalisme was the name given to this as a system and ideology by royalist opponents of the French Revolution in the early 19th century who didn’t like the power and influence of these financiers. It was later taken up by those on the left such as the reformist Louis Blanc (the person credited with first saying ‘from each according to their abilities, to each according to their needs’). Sonenscher quotes him as saying that capitalism was the enemy of capital and advocating the state ownership of capital, a form of state capitalism that would have abolished ‘capitalistes’ and that had a future before it.

Sonenscher remarks that the word ‘capitalism’ does not appear in Marx’s Capital. This is true. Marx uses the term ‘capitalist mode of production’ by which he meant the system where capital was invested in production and which had quite different results than when it was lent to governments and whose abolition would end not only the social role of capitalist but also the whole system of investing money in production for sale on a market with the aim of making a profit.

Sonenscher traces how, in the discussions about the state, economy and society in the late 18th and early 19th centuries amongst some well known (Adam Smith, Ricardo, Hegel) and some less known writers of the period, ‘capitalism’ was contrasted to ‘commercial society’ resulting from the division of labour. Since then, he notes, the two terms have become conflated, with capitalism virtually coming to mean commercial society. This in fact comes nearer to what socialists understand by the word: a property society where everything, including people’s working energies, is subject to being bought and sold. However, in much popular usage, even by ‘anti-capitalists,’ the word still retains its original association with finance and banking.

Towards the end of the book the author reveals that he doesn’t think that either commercial society or lending to governments can be ended. He sees what exists – where the state borrows money to mitigate the worst effects of commercial society – as all that is possible. Despite this, his essay is an interesting discussion of the origin and history of a key word in the socialist vocabulary.

Adam Buick

The Class Struggles in France: Before and After the Commune. By Paul Lafargue (1928)

From the March 1928 issue of the Socialist Standard

Appearance of the Working Class on the Political Stage.

Although, prior to 1848, Socialism scattered into an endless number of variations of schools and school-lets, it could not, all in all, count many adherents. It did not gain a foothold among the masses of the workers and it enticed only a few artisans and bour­geois.

Therefore there was no reason for the capitalist class to worry about that kind of Socialism; it regarded its adherents as queer specimens and harmless visionaries, which indeed they were. These adherents themselves contributed all that is humanity possible to appear as such and to be very grotesque. They wore garments of very peculiar cut—the St. Simonists buttoned their coats at the back so that they needed the aid of a comrade when dressing, and thus had their attention directed towards co-operation—excessively big hats, long beards, etc. So long as Louis Philippe ruled, the bourgeois political parties continued to struggle for ascendancy as though there were no Socialists in existence. But the June insurrection revealed to them the existence of a Socialism essentially different from that of the Utopians, of a Socialism that appeared to them as the most terrible of all monstrosities. The vicious and silly slanders spread by the entire press about the insurgents, the capitalists accepted as gospel. The newspapers de­clared that Communism and Socialism aimed at a division of goods. The capitalists believed that. For the individualist bourgeois, whose entire mental activities centre upon what he can pocket, a division of goods is the most horrible eventuality he can think of.

Prince Napoleon, who under Louis Philippe had played the role of a Communist reformer, now offered himself to the bour­geoisie to save society from Communism. The brand of Socialism which had not had sufficient comprehension to organise a political party and to instil into the workers a consciousness of their class interests, in the hands of a Bonapartist pretender became a political instrument wherewith to overthrow the republic, erect the empire and “protect order, the family and property.” The first appearance of Socialism on the political stage furnished weapons to the reactionary parties by means of which they retarded political development and suppressed the working class for the benefit of the capitalist class.

The first years of the empire brought an unparalleled prosperity traceable to the foundation of the “Credit Mobilier” (a credit bank for movable property), of the “Credit Foncier” (a credit bank for real property), and of other credit institutions of modern finance, to the building of railroads, the development of agriculture, etc. Due to this prosperity, the June insurrection and the terror it had carried into the ranks of the bourgeoisie were totally forgotten. Those who still remembered the insurrection regarded it as an extraordinary event caused-by extraordinary conditions, a repetition of which they would never live to see. In a like manner Socialism was forgotten and not even spoken of. It was ranked among the whims gone out of fashion, like the National Guard, for which early in the government of Louis Philippe the bour­geoisie had greatly enthused itself.

But Napoleon III. did not forget that he owed his throne to the first political mani­festation of the class struggle. When there came the years of commercial and industrial decline, when a series of bank crashes caused by the collapse of the “Credit Mobilier” ruined numerous existences in all layers of the bourgeoisie, then the republican party again raised its head and attacked the empire. It was then that Napoleon felt the time had come to re-kindle anew the class struggle between the proletariat and the capitalists. The working class and the capitalist class were mutually to rend each other, and the government, as a smirking bystander, was tranquilly to look on and make good use of the respite cleverly gained. Prompted by such considerations, Napoleon restored the right of assembly abolished at the time of his coup d’etat, but limited it to meetings in which economic questions were to be considered. Every meeting dealing with political questions had to be dispersed by the police. These restrictions produced effects opposite to those aimed at. Napo­leon raised politics to the position of forbidden fruit, which alone excited the ardent interest of the public. It remained apathetic, indifferent, toward the economic questions, which the Emperor wanted to put in the foreground of public interest in order to incite the workers against the capitalists and to conjure up before the eyes of the scared bourgeoisie the “red spectre” of Communism and of the division of goods.

The workers, who for fifteen years had heard no more of Socialism, did not even understand the meaning of the term, while the words republic, liberty, etc., smote their ears like a fanfare of trumpets. In order to cater to the passionate interest of their audiences, the speakers at the meetings did not open a fight against the employers and against capital, but interlarded their discourses with allusions to the Emperor and Empress and even with attacks upon both. Instead of picturing the misery of economic exploitation and the allurements and advantages of collective property, they indulged in romantic lamentations about the shame of political oppression, about the happiness of liberty, the greatness of the republic and of the revolution. So that quiet might return to the political waters, Napoleon was prompted again to prohibit public meetings. But it was then too late—the stone had begun to roll.

For the first time since the Great Revolution of the past century—if one disregards the June insurrection and the revolt of Lyon in 1831—a real popular movement swept through the land. Until then only the various layers of the propertied classes had participated in the political struggles. Now, however, it was the workers who got into motion, who assailed the imperial government and fought for the republic. The working class appeared on the stage of political struggles and made common cause with the republican faction of the bourgeoisie. And therewith it obeyed unconsciously, following the logic of events, the slogan Marx and Engels had given to the proletariat in 1847 in the “Communist Manifesto,” namely, “everywhere to support every revolutionary movement against the existing social and political conditions.” This first political manifestation of the working class showed how untenable had been the anti-political tactics of the Socialists prior to 1848. This attitude, forced upon the proletariat by existing conditions, confirmed the capitalists in the opinion that there were no longer any classes. They were full of the sweet illusion that the workers, in the present as in the past, as well as forever after, would see in the propertied their “natural” leaders and, forgetting about their own class interests, would render to the bourgeoisie dray-horse service in the mainten­ance of its interests. So far from opposing the foundation of the International, the bour­geois republicans joined it hoping that : it could be made to serve them. Like Mazzini, they, too, sought in the International a weapon against the empire. And, indeed. it proved to be such a weapon. While Jules Favre and the leaders of the republican party flirted with the government and accepted its favours, the members of the Paris section of the International proudly and contemptuously rejected the offers of Rouher, the vice emperor. They understood that, first of all and at any price, there must be a change in the political situation, that the empire must be overthrown and the republic restored so that Socialism could develop and gain a foothold among the working class.

But at that, the Socialism that could then be offered to the workers was by no means such as to satisfy them and meet their requirements. It confronted them as “mutualism,” as the Socialism of the artisans and petty industrialists, built up and extended by Proudhon through his own anarchistic and reactionary theories. It was he who, in the name of liberty, had publicly championed the secular power of the Pope; and he had also defended the right of American Southern States to abandon Union in order to maintain slavery. The members of the Paris section of the International who, barring a few exceptions such as Varlin and Malon, were Proudhonist “Mutualists,” at the congresses of the International were conspicuous by their reactionary and arrogant attitude. Tolain, Limousin, Chemale and the other Proudhonists entertained the strange assumption that they were to lead the International and force upon it their ideas, although they could not even lay claim to being clear upon its purpose. They always voted with the minority against all Communist motions. The fall of the empire surprised the working class before it had been able to attain a firm organisation or rise to a clear Socialist conception. It strove for nothing but the restoration of the republic. The few workers and artisans forced into the foreground by the political agitation of the later years, also possessed no Socialist convictions. Thus, in 1870, the bourgeois republicans calmly took the place of the Bonapartists, just as in 1848 they had crowded the Orleanists out of power. The workers, even the members of the International, took this to be the natural course of events. On September 4th, 1870, there was in France but one single class politically active, the capitalist class.

It was the Paris Commune of March, 1871, which, though not a Socialist revolution, was a grand repetition of the June insurrection, and made clear to the perception the class struggle latent in the lap of capitalist society. Versailles, where had gathered the representatives of all political parties whom the prevailing conditions had closely welded together, Versailles became the embodiment of capitalist interests. The Paris of the Commune, on the other hand, was the advance guard of the proletariat.

For the second time the modern class struggle in its most pronounced and most terrible form, entered the arena of political life. The rising of the proletariat in 1848 resembled a bolt of lightning out of the blue sky, ominously lighting up the horizon and then striking earthward without leaving a trace. Under the Second Empire the June insurgents as well as the Socialism of Fourier and St. Simon had been forgotten. The Commune, however, although only an insurrection of the Parisians, shook up the entire nation and awakened in the minds of the workers the conviction that under the walls of Paris the struggle went on for their very own cause. For the first time it came about that the workers experienced this emotion, and it was destined to become an indelible one. The subsequent economic events could only deepen it and prepare the workers to become conscious of their interests as a class, and would cause them to come together as a class in a political party.

The Organisation of the Working Class as a Political Party.

The Franco-German war of 1870-71 led to a revolution of the economic conditions of France. The large machine industry, which since the trade agreement with England in 1863 had been slowly developed, suddenly took on a colossal upward swing. French industry had then to meet a severe task; it had to heal the wounds which the war had inflicted upon one-third of the country ; it had to furnish the means for the gigantic armaments, the colossal building-up of militarism ; and, finally, it had to fill the gap caused by the cession of Alsace-Lor­raine, the province of France most highly developed industrially before the year 1870. French industry met these demands in the course of a few years. In all parts of the country factories shot up like toadstools, destroyed petty industry and created an industrial proletariat, which until then had been present only in a few cities of the north-east, the only part of the country where large machine industry had got a firm foothold. Ten years after the war the industrial proletariat could be found all over France.

If the June insurrection had buried Utopian Socialism, the Commune had given the coup de grace to the Proudhon “mutualism.” The Fourierists and St. Simonists had been transformed into mani­pulators of great industrial and financial undertakings, while the mutualists landed in the Senate, as did Tolain, or in worse places, as did Chardey, Fribourg, Pierre Denis. A few attached themselves to the new Socialist movement.

The International, during its short life, had fulfilled an important mission the fruits of which were now to be harvested. The imagination of the scared bourgeoisie pic­tured the International as a powerful, gigantic organisation, firmly organised, able to dispose of millions who, blindly and without remonstrance, would obey the London General Council, which latter ordered strikes and prepared insurrections like that of the Paris Commune. Nothing can be more beside the facts than this conception. The International did not play this role, could not have played it. But even if the mission it actually did fulfil was less romantic, it was none the less great and important. It had the mission to bring nearer to one another and into communication the workers of Europe and America, who had until then been separated by political boundaries and national hatreds and prejudices ; it had the mission to formulate Socialist theories which, so to speak, became the Socialist confession of faith of the world proletariat; it had the mission to create, in theory, an international Socialist movement at a time when there existed in no country, Germany alone excepted, a national Socialist movement. Only a revolutionary and scientific genius like Marx could have conceived the thought of such a work, could prevent the International from being led into wrong channels and, instead, perform the task that had been set in so short a time. When the International, which in reality had died after the congress at The Hague in 1872, a few years thereafter entirely dis­appeared there existed in the world an international Socialist Party the members of which had the mission to found in their home countries national Socialist parties.

The men who in France, after the fury of the Versailles reaction had somewhat subsided, took up the Socialist movement at the point where the Commune had left off, had been members of the International. They had. therefore, drawn their new Socialist convictions from the common fund of Socialist theories which the International had formulated at its various congresses. Ten years after the fall of the Commune, the congress held at Marseilles, attended by representatives of the working class from all parts of France, decided against a strong minority to organise the workers as a class party, which was to participate in economic conflicts through the support of strikes and in the political struggle utilise the ballot to conquer the powers of state and by means of them transfer the land and the means of production into the possession of the entire nation. Therewith the Socialist Party had found its proper field of action, had raised its standard, and now it remained only to draw together its forces and to organise them. This task was taken in hand eagerly and with enthusiasm.

(From the Weekly People.)

Saving what’s Left: Mélenchon bucks the trend? (2022)

Mélenchon in Toulouse

From the June 2022 issue of the Socialist Standard

The recent Presidential ballots in France have ended as everyone predicted they would do: in the second round run-off Emmanuel Macron clearly defeated Marine Le Pen, the leader of the right-wing Rasssemblement Nationale (RN). Although Le Pen’s performance in the important pre-vote TV debate with Macron was not quite as bad as her efforts of five years ago, she remained incapable of countering Macron’s grasp of detail and his schoolboy enthusiasm for all things technical. The prior elimination of candidates representing what remains of the mainstream in French politics, made the electoral outcome horribly inevitable. Although Le Pen looked very confident about the effects of her rhetorical flourishes, her defeat represents the normal outcome of latter day Fifth Republican politics. Even if we take into account the seeming originality of Macron’s electoral majority formed around his République en March Party (LREM), it is still business as usual.

The LREM is a grouping of left and right politicians fleeing from the existing party structures; a kind of Blairite big-tent of perplexed opportunists and old sweats seeking a second youth. Its existence underlines the gradual shrinkage and fragmentation of the conventional republican centre right and a parallel demise of putatively socialist and communist parties. In reality, the supposedly left/right centre of Macronism only looks novel when contrasted with the continuing presence – indeed growth – of the party formerly led by Le Pen’s father Jean-Marie Le Pen. Her father set up the openly racist Front National (FN) to give vent to his visceral hatred of Arab immigrants, blacks and Jews. The space he created for this putrid style of politics opened the way for the somewhat less vociferous RN. A recent dalliance with respectability means that the RN remains largely bankrupt both in terms of ideas and in strictly financial terms.

Contemporary French politics, in fact, boils down to how the centre have used this extreme right excrescence to their own advantage. For conventional parties, the fact that the FN/RN persistently falls at the last hurdle of the presidential run-off is all to the good: its existence creates a feedback loop which unfailingly returns the system to its original (centrist) point of departure. This is especially true when a particularly close result provides a frisson of excitement in an otherwise stagnant body politic. This strange situation is partly due to the fact that de Gaulle’s plebiscitary monarchy established in the 1950s was designed for stability. Under its umbrella voters are gently enjoined to vote for the least-worst candidate in the two-person run-off. To begin with, the perversity of the system was hardly visible: tailor-made for the grand Charles, it offered little scope for competitors. But with some tweaking it could be made to work for politicians who lacked the general’s post-war charisma. The needed refinement was introduced by Mitterrand who – working in cahoots with Chirac – introduced dodgy reforms to the electoral system in order to maintain the FN as a looming death-star aimed at the centre of the universe. So it is that with national service long gone, the militaristic superb of the General has given way to the charmless style of one Emmanuel Macron who came to power from the élite schools and the banking sector. He is hardly a hero of the resistance. But the message for conventional politicians is clear: cynics, nincompoops and technocrats can sneak into power simply on the back of the presence of an ageing cohort of scruffy xenophobes. What a system! But it is one which has been used equally by Chirac, Sarkozy and Francois Hollande.

Scarecrows

The Le Pen clan then, father and daughter, have operated as scarecrows – répoussoirs – who make the centre position preferable. The result, over time, has been the creation of an inward-looking political caste of untouchable top-level functionaries and corporate tycoons linked at the hip by the spinning of the revolving door leading from public sector to financial opulence. The ‘Caste’ – the title of a recent book – try to hold both ends of the political spectrum. This creates a kind of see-saw arrangement where no one is really happy to make the first risky move away from the centre. The only perspective is found in the rear-view mirror: for example, wannabe presidential candidates like to imitate the distinctive gestures of the grand Charles in the hope of squatting the comfortable middle-ground. This was easy enough for Mitterrand (who famously once denounced the system as a permanent coup-d’état), easy for Chirac but far more difficult for the twitchy and corrupt Sarkozy who in another life was a slick corporate lawyer. Macron’s youth gave him something of a Kennedy style which he used to pull off this scam. But his later success is more of a homage to the working of the system than it is to his tactical perspicacity. In reality Macron is an accident-prone youngster who believes in his own propaganda (‘France, the start-up nation’ was one of his slogans).

Can Mélenchon Save the Left?

Now we are in the run up to the elections to the legislature. This is where things could get interesting. The novelty here is the presence of Jean Luc Mélenchon’s, France Insoumise Party: France Unbowed (what a horrible name!). JLM is a politician who started his political career in the early Mitterrand days when the left adopted reforms meant to be of benefit to ordinary people. These included the lowering of the retirement age to 60, longer holidays, the strengthening of protective labour law, a shortened working week and more statutory rights for part-time workers. In these years JLM was a senator, a professional politician unfazed by Mitterrand’s shift to the right. But he gradually moved away from the French Socialist Party as it adopted policies which put into question many of its more popular reforms. In the end, he established his own small grouping under various guises and enjoyed some moderate success as a gadfly working against a hostile political environment.

He owes his credibility on the left to his unflagging support for popular causes, his vocal anti-racism, and his genuine talent as an orator. He has correctly diagnosed the stagnation induced by the Fifth Republic and proposes a referendum to revive the legislature by switching away from the existing constitution. The constitution tends to favour the rubber-stamping of decisions made by technocrats and applied by presidential fiat. But he was narrowly defeated in the first round of the last two presidential elections partly because of his inability to handle a hostile media. Nonetheless he has a small active group in the Chambre de Deputés, support in the working-class suburbs and a growing influence outside the metropolis.

Things are now working in his favour. The mainstream Socialist Party’s presidential candidate Hidalgo harvested a catastrophically low score in the election (1.7%) and lost her deposit. Similarly low scores were recorded by the Communist Party. The unbelievably uncharismatic leader of the ecologists, Jadot, and other left parties, picked up a few crumbs. For ordinary voters, the left is weak and divided and the political centre of gravity is pulling towards the right. The Socialist Party is suffering from the legacy of weakness and a lengthening series of betrayals. Conventional politicians are now seriously working out how to the raise the retirement age back to 65 and legislation to weaken protective labour law has been adopted largely thanks to François Hollande’s government. So people are looking elsewhere.

At the time of writing, Mélenchon is trying to get the left to unite around a loose coalition under the clumsy acronym of NUPES. This means getting most of the left into his improbable and leaky lifeboat: a coalition of the communists, socialists, and ecologists. So far JLM has managed to neutralise the spoiling tactics of the various party leaders and complacent party hacks. The brutal fact is the left has nowhere else to go. The left coalition will be up against a macrocosm of centrist opportunists and neo-liberals, a deeply divided republican right and the inevitable presence of the spectre on the extreme right. It will be a bumpy ride but things could work out better for him this time. JLM is an unlikely candidate for the supreme office and one who openly dislikes this presidential system. But so far he has managed to pull off an impossible movement towards the union of the left in a very hostile environment. This should give the centre some reason to be afraid. For it could spell the end of the terrible legacy of de Gaulle. Whether Mélenchon is willing to shake off the darker side of Mitterrand’s legacy is another matter.

M.M., 

Paris.

Political Notes: Another wasted Irish martyr (1981)

The Political Notes Column from the June 1981 issue of the Socialist Standard

Another wasted Irish martyr

It is usual for IRA activists to be condemned by their opponents as cowardly thugs but that description could hardly be applied to the hunger strikers so the media hacks had to search for other words. They were not very successful.

Their confidence may have got the boost it needed, as Bobby Sands lay dying, from the' appeal by Northern Ireland Secretary Humphrey Atkins for, people not to heed lies and rumours but to pay attention to local councillors and clergymen and to “monitor the media".

The idea that local politicians and priests can be relied on to tell the truth is simply ludicrous, since if they did so they would drop out of capitalist politics and stop peddling religious nonsense.

All of these deal, in either side of the conflict, in the basic absurdity that the troubles in Ireland stem from religious differences. Such bigotries may inspire some of the nastier violence, and give fuel to the more extreme incitement by self-seeking politicians. This may make the bigotries appear as the cause of the problems when in fact they are part of the symptoms.

For Ireland is split, like any other of the artificial divisions in capitalist society, on lines of clashing economic interests. The incidental political and religious-theories simply bedevil and aggravate the problem, which will not be permanently resolved short of abolishing its cause — the private properly basis of capitalist society.

The hunger strikers were undoubtedly brave and steadfast literally unto death. Their martyrdom—for such was the object of their fast—obscured the essential fact that they were also tragic men. For their courage and steadfastness were applied in the interests of one side in a struggle in which they, as members of the working class, had no interests.

So the tragedy was that, having so much to give, they were content to give it only to be wasted.

Pay out at the bank

Among the many betes noires which torment the repose of all crusading lefties one of the blackest and most beastly is Barclays Bank.

The reason, as is well known to all cheque book holders, is that Barclays have a lot of investments in South Africa, whose racist oppression rouses those same lefties to a frenzy of protest no less intense for being discriminatory in its target.

This has reached the point when Barclay's Annual General Meeting is a sort of day out for the protesters who, perhaps because it is after all one of the Big Five Banks, usually include some expensively trendy lefties.

This year, for example, there was ravishing actress Julie Christie, indignantly bobbing golden curls in attack on the policies of the South African government. Possibly she is the trendiest — certainly she is among the most attractive of the protesters so far. At all events something persuaded the Bank to stop stone walling for a change and guardedly agree with some of the criticisms.

Retiring Barclays chairman Anthony Tuke did this, however, with some spirit, pointing out that about 300 other British companies also operate in South Africa and that one of Barclay’s first objects is to promote the exports of British capitalism td that country.

Now this was pretty shrewd of him, because British exports are dear to the heart of all British lefties as they are supposed to provide jobs for British workers (even if at the cost of jobs to other workers abroad  — perhaps in South Africa).

Barclays invest in South Africa for the same reason as all other capitalist concerns invest anywhere — to promote the process of profit making, which means the process of working class exploitation. As long as the government takes care of that aspect, the concerns need not worry too much about its other policies, however brutal and repressive they may be.

That is a fact of capitalist life—and such facts are habitually not easily absorbed by lefties who prefer publicity worthy demonstrations to effective remedies.

French lesson

The victory of Mitterand in the French Presidential election was another self-inflicted defeat for the working class.

Anyone who doubts this need only consider some of the utterances, before and after the result, by the two candidates. First Giscard, speaking just before the vote at that infamous World War 1 charnel house Verdun, asserted that of all the candidates only he had been in the army when the war in Europe ended in May 1945. As if being a soldier in a war necessarily makes a person a more desirable president. As if patriotism is a tenable, useful principle instead of a baseless and anti social fallacy. In any case Giscard was telling less than the truth, since his time in the army (as if it mattered) was actually less than that of Mitterand, who spent much of the war as a prisoner.

Mitterand had his own lies to tell. "It was a victory for youth, labour, creativity and renewal and will set off an enormous national upsurge” he exulted, too carefree — like his jubilant supporters in the streets — to recall the innumerable similar claims made by other victors before him, all of them discredited.

This mixture of deception and empty promises is fairly representative of the standard of debate in capitalism’s elections. Its object is not to encourage knowledge and participation but to ensure ignorance and apathy. Tragically, the working class swallow this muck and cast their vote in accordance with it.

When will they weary of this insulting, degrading, self-destructive process? When will they grasp the fact that they are the people who conceive, design and produce everything in society but allow themselves to be conned out of taking possession of it?

This is the measure of the defeats the workers inflict on themselves when they wastc their votes at election time by giving them for the continuance of capitalism. At such times they could resolve that capitalism shall be brought to an immediate end. But in France, as elsewhere, the message is that the deceit is still regarded as palatable and so capitalism grinds on.

Songs and Revolution. (1927)

From the September 1927 issue of the Socialist Standard

In the course of our work as Socialist propagandists we frequently come in contact with people who appear to imagine that the bulwarks of capitalism will collapse as the result of much lusty singing of the “Red Flag.” No “Labour” meeting is considered a success unless this or some similar ditty is borne upon the night air, with or without orchestral accompaniment. What the arguments presented at such gathering’s lack in logic is amply made up for by vociferation. This attitude of mind recalls the legend of the Walls of Jericho falling before the blasts of the trumpets of the Children of Israel. In fact, idealism generally has its roots far back in the magic past, although it serves a very useful purpose to the capitalist class of the present day, as we shall endeavour to show.

The following is an extract from an article in the “Daily Chronicle” of July 20th entitled, “Music; the Life Force,” by Dr. Leigh Henry :

“The French Revolution was the outcome of a reaction in music.

When Rouget de Lisle wrote “La Marseillaise” he roused the people to such an inflammatory pitch that they rose in arms and overthrew their tyrants, only to create a greater and more powerful one; but it was a German, Theodore Korner, who brought about the downfall of Napoleon by going among his countrymen and singing to them old folk songs and poems of revolt which past generations had handed down.”

Dr. Leigh Henry may be an authority on musical forms, but his notions of history are laughable. He might as well ask us to believe that the War and the Allied victory in 1918 were due to the influence of “Mademoiselle from Armentiers,” or “It’s a Long Way to Tipperary” ; but let us examine his illustration a little more closely.

The French Revolution resulted in the triumph of the Third Estate (or middle class) over the feudal nobility, with the monarch at their head. The convocation of the National Assembly, the imprisonment and eventual execution of the Royal Family, the war with Austria, and Europe generally, were simply events in the struggle for supremacy of the bankers, merchants, shopkeepers and manufacturers in the towns, assisted by the lawyers and by the peasantry in the country at large. As this, that, or the other section of the insurgent mass asserted itself, so group after group of leaders were pushed forward or thrust aside.

All the so-called great men of the epoch from Mirabeau to Napoleon were simply the tools, conscious or otherwise, of the rising class.

At this period, owing to the undeveloped state of French industry, the number of wage-workers in the country was comparatively small, and their political influence, such as it was, fell into the scale on the side of the capitalist revolutionaries. The peasants hankered after the land, and did in fact secure a greater degree of control than they had till then possessed; but the richest estates, including those of the clergy, were seized by the Government and auctioned off to the highest bidders. Thus the poor remained poor. Instead, however, of performing forced labour for the aristocrats, they commenced to slave to fill the pockets of the tax-gatherer and the usurers.

On this basis was erected the First Empire, and the problem of a bankrupt national exchequer was solved. No sooner had they dealt with their feudal enemies at home than the French capitalist class found themselves set upon by the remaining feudal monarchies of Middle and Eastern Europe and the capitalist government of Britain; the former feared the spread of the Revolution, the latter could hardly favour the rise of a new commercial competitor.

Conscription filled the armies of Napoleon as taxation filled his purse. Nevertheless he was idolised by the very peasantry who bled for his glory, both financially and physically.

The “Marseillaise,” which inflamed the imagination of the insurgent capitalists, became the National Anthem in the hour of their triumph, and in spite of temporary eclipses, still holds that place of “honour.”

That the German folk-songs assisted in stimulating the more simple-minded of the German peasants to enable their overlords to regain their lands and power from the hated upstart, Napoleon, may be granted; but the actual force which mobilised the German armies was the same pressure which every ruling class is in a position to bring to bear upon its slaves. In other words, the musical accompaniment of historical events plays a secondary part in determining their character.

The primary factor is the economic development of the society concerned.

The “Marseillaise” or “God save the King” would be quite unintelligible to the inhabitants of Central Africa or the South Sea Islands, owing to their totally different stage of development and mode of life, giving rise to different groups of ideas, including notions of musical taste and methods of expressing emotion.

Similarly, the barbarians celebrate birth, initiation, marriage, war, and death with rhythmic monotones which appear positively weird to the European. They may haunt him, but he would hardly describe them as melodious. The nearest approach to their effect is that of the Church chants, which are little more than modified survivals of the dirges droned out by the slaves in the catacombs of Rome. In the ancient and medieval worlds, music was practically inseparable from religion, first of the pagan, later of the Christian variety.

Even the lays of the troubadours combined profanity with mysticism; as the bloody sagas of the Norsemen would be incomplete without reference to the gods of Valhalla.

With the grand operatic masters of the 18th and 19th centuries a change is evident. From Mozart to Wagner they all exhibit the influence of the economic and political upheaval which characterised their age.

The rise of the capitalist class was reflected in the musical world by the triumph of the secular principle. The church choir gave way to the stage chorus, which provided an enhancing background for the efforts of individual vocalists.

The destruction of the old village life by modern industry spelt the death knell of the ballad and the folk-song. These mediaeval modes of expression have been supplanted by the music-hall ditty, while the negroes of America have avenged their enslaved ancestors by infecting their 100 per cent. American masters with jazz tunes and “spirituals.”

This interesting resurrection of the primitive seems to indicate that capitalism has reached the limits of originality in art, just as, on the economic plane, it condemns the masses to an ever-worsening standard of living. To avoid misunderstanding, the writer would add that, while jazz has much that can be said in its favour when compared with the stilted products of the Victorian epoch, it nevertheless represents a reaction rather than an advance. It is a symptom of the decay and break-up of the classical musical tradition, but it gives little indication of what will take its place.

The struggle of the working class for emancipation has yet to make its mark, but when it does it can hardly leave the dance-hall and the theatre as it finds them. As the workers acquire leisure, they will develop their critical faculties in other directions besides that of economics. When they enter freely into possession of the fruits of their labour, they will have something to make a song about. Till then, perhaps, we shall have to put up with the “International” and the “Red Flag.”

Eric Boden

A tie to the job (2000)

From the August 2000 issue of the Socialist Standard

The morning rush hour often yields a flurry of colours as men rushing to work sport undulating ties on their mad dash to be by their masters by the allotted time.

Tied to the ruling class

For the capitalist class, the tie is the very symbol of elegance and power, echoing Oscar Wilde’s sentiments that “a well-tied tie is the first serious step in life” (Wilde joked this at a time when very few workers actually wore ties at all). Indeed, the tie was suitably born soaked in blood. The word “cravat” comes from “Croat”, the nationality of the soldiers who won Turkey (previously in the Austro-Hungarian Empire) for Louis XIV of France, and who marched victoriously into Paris adorned in colourful silk handkerchiefs tied around their necks. The French King soon copied this style and began a similar fashion among the European aristocravats, pun intended. Indeed, Louis XIV called an entire regiment the Royal Cravattes.

In the stiff world of power, English gentlemen were soon wearing cravats so high and tight that they could not even turn their own necks around. Clothes have always been a symbol of the wearer’s status in society, and this fetishism of commodities as embodiment of social superiority was perfectly exemplified by the cravat. Indeed, LeBlanc, a Frenchman who spent his life instructing the elite how to tie a cravat properly, remarked that “the grossest insult that can be offered to a man comme il faut is to seize him by the cravat; in this place blood only can wash out the stain upon the honor of either party.” The official name of the common way in which most men tie their ties today, the Windsor technique, is named after the Duke of Windsor himself.

Ties which both hang flaccidly from the neck to the groin like a penis and also point to it are the very symbol of the phallus, which is so envied by other men and women not for its actual qualities as much as the social meaning attributed to the gender of its owner. The tie is thus a symbol of the domination of men over women, and of power in general.

To those of us who wear it to work (and I am one of them) the tie is a burden, another rule to follow in a workplace dominated by rules and regulations. It represents the very essence of discomfort, as it applies light pressure to the very tube we all require to breathe, reminding us of our life sentence to capital by tie hanging, of how much our lives are owned and controlled by the elite, and how much our very life force is maintained because of our servitude to another class. Wearing a tie, we simply don’t feel free, just as we don’t look free, donning an article required of many workers regardless of their individualities or creative abilities. The very essence of conformity.

Ties come in all colours, symbolizing the endless shades of commodities on the marketplace. Just as we workers identify ourselves by what soap opera we watch, what car we drive, what shade of left or right we adhere to, so our many-coloured and patterned ties mirror these false identities and choices. They maintain a sense of choice and free will (Mickey Mouse tie versus striped tie versus plain coloured tie) in a world in which workers have virtually none other than in such a meaningless domain as that of choosing between this or that object of consumption. They feel like the object of our individuality even while being mass-produced and inevitably laying bare our bondage to the job.

With my tie as chain around my neck I often imagine myself to be the chained factory farm cow, being prepared for the slaughter, raised only as a commodity for sale on the market from birth to death. Indeed, the dress “code” itself, like all codes, symbolizes the world of apparition, what the Situationists termed Spectacle, beneath which lurks the real meaning of our servitude.

I do not “wear it proudly.” It reminds me of a life of slavery. With my tie on, like the factory farm cow, I dream of greener pastures where I too can graze in freedom. I fantasize of a world in which all the paraphernalia of the capitalist system are gone—money, wages, buying and selling, bosses, nation states, meaningless objects of consumption and, yes, ties too – and people will relate to each other directly, without the mediation, status and conformity of the dress code.

In such a world, the feeling of freedom and ease is likely to reflect in our attire, and as the artificial division between “their time” (work) and “our time” is gone, so will the division between “work clothes” and “play clothes” as well. Whether we will all wear something more akin to pajamas or athletic clothes or close to nothing only history can tell, but it is clear from the tie that it acts in the same relation as ideology, maintaining while at the same time obscuring the deeper relations of minority ownership and power.

The very word “tie” speaks to both our actual economic ties to the ruling class as well as to the feeling of being tied to it. I look forward to a time when I will be appreciated for the mind above the coloured collar, and when clothes are admired for their uniqueness, their comfort, and the manner in which they express the freedom of human society.

Kaz.

The French Non-Revolution (1988)

From the May 1988 issue of the Socialist Standard

Twenty years ago this month students were erecting barricades and battling with the police in the streets of Paris. Over nine million workers were on strike. Industry was at a standstill with most factories occupied by strikers.

This social explosion had started at the beginning of May when the government, hoping to stop the student unrest that had been growing over the preceding months from getting out of hand, ordered the police to arrest certain student activists including the most prominent. Daniel Cohn-Bendit, known as Danny-le-Rouge. The result was to provoke the very thing they had been hoping to avoid. Barricades went up in the student quarter on the left bank of the river Seine and fierce street battles took place on the night of 10-11 May as the police tried to reconquer the area, dispensing indiscriminate brutality to all who got in their way.

To protest against this police brutality against the students the trade unions called a one-day general strike for the following Monday 13 May. Many workers — wage and salary earners had their own grievances against the government, which had been treating them in much the same way as Thatcher has been treating workers in Britain since she came to power — did not return to work the next day or came out again later in the week and a full-scale general strike, with factory occupations, which was to last several weeks, spread throughout the country.

Some thought that France was on the brink of a revolution that would sweep away capitalism and usher in workers' control of society. But this was an illusion. In the absence of a socialist-minded working class, the most that could have happened was the collapse of the Gaullist regime and its replacement by some left-of-centre government of capitalism similar to that then in office in Britain under Harold Wilson.

De Gaulle himself had come to power as a result of an army and settlers' revolt that had begun in Algeria ten years previously. In terms of the then existing constitution — that of the Fourth Republic — the way he came to power was perfectly illegal but such changes of regime by extra-parliamentary means have been a frequent feature of French history since the French revolution of 1789. Since that time there have in fact been a number of such changes — France has had five republics, two empires, two monarchies in addition to Vichy France under Marshal Petain — and this is what the term revolution has come to mean in French politics.

Such a "revolution" — resulting in the restoration of the Fourth Republic or in the establishment of a sixth one — was indeed a possibility in May 1968 but would have had nothing in common with what socialists mean by revolution — a change in the basis of society. From a socialist point of view, a change of political regime carried out by action on the streets is no more relevant than a change of government carried out by electoral means. Both are merely ways of rearranging the political administration of capitalism. Both leave the capitalist basis of society unchanged.

In any event the opponents of the Gaullist regime — from the student activists to the left politicians — underestimated the determination of De Gaulle and the solidity of his regime. When at the end of May he disappeared from Paris, opposition politicians thought that he was about to go and began to stake rival claims to the posts they would like to occupy in the new government. De Gaulle had in fact gone to Germany secretly to meet the leaders of the Army. On his return, on 30 May he immediately went on radio and TV to announce that a general election would be held in June in which the issue would be: maintenance of the Gaullist regime or a left-wing government dominated by the French Communist Party (which was at that time indeed much stronger than the non-Communist left). Faced with this choice, in the election which took place on 23 and 30 June, the voters gave De Gaulle a landslide victory. The May events had resulted, not in the overthrow of the Gaullist regime but in its consolidation. Of course they also brought university reform and wage increases and other benefits for the workers but as an attempt to change the political regime in France by extra-parliamentary means May 1968 was a complete flop.

This wasn't evident immediately, at least not to the student and extreme-left activists. They argued that it would have succeeded if only the workers had taken the next step and instead of just occupying the factories had started operating them without the bosses or if only the French Communist Party (PCF) and the trade union centre it controlled (the CGT) had not betrayed the revolution by taking up a moderate, constitutional line. The Trotskyists put on their scratchy old gramophone record about the revolution having failed for want of a vanguard party to lead the workers. More interesting was the attitude of Cohn-Bendit both at the time and later.

In a book written with his brother Gabriel in August 1968. entitled Leftwing Radicalism. Cure for Communism 's Senile Disease (an obvious play on the title of Lenin's pamphlet Left wing Communism. An Infantile Disease which the PCF quoted against him and other "leftists"). Cohn-Bendit argued that the Gaullist regime could have been toppled on the night of 24-25 May if the student demonstrators who had moved over to the right bank of the Seine had stayed there after burning the Stock Exchange (or rather starting a fire inside it since stock exchanges, being built of marble, don't burn easily) and had gone on to capture the ministries of Finance and Justice a few streets away instead of returning to the left bank.

Today, however, he argues that what the opponents of the Gaullist regime should have done in May 1968 was to have called for a general election in mid-May at the height of the factory and university occupations which he reckons they would easily have won. He has even gone on record as saying that the biggest mistake he has ever made was "not to have called for an election sooner in 1968" (The Economist 14 February 1987). In other words, Dany the Red, the student revolutionary, now says that the way to have overthrown De Gaulle was through elections. As a member of the German Green Party he now actively participates in electoral activity and has even been their candidate for the post of mayor of Frankfurt.

As a matter of fact this is not all that much of a U-turn since, even in May 1968, Cohn-Bendit was well aware that the student movement, despite its revolutionary rhetoric, was in practice struggling not to replace capitalism by socialism but to replace Gaullism by some left-wing government. So it is not really a big change, that he should now be saying a better way to have achieved this would have been through the ballot box. When he spoke about "revolutionary action" he did not mean action to overthrow capitalism but merely street demonstrations, seizure of public buildings and strikes to overthrow De Gaulle. This emerges clearly, for instance, from the interview the pretentious philosopher and ex-PCF fellow traveller Jean-Paul Sartre had with him in the middle of the events and before his expulsion from France on 22 May as an "undesirable" alien (his parents came from Germany) and which was published in Le Nouvel Observateur on 20 May. Here he stated clearly that the aim was "the overthrow of the regime". explaining that in his view:

  A radical change in the structure of our society would only be possible, if, for example, a serious economic crisis, the action of a powerful workers' movement, and vigorous student activity suddenly converged. These conditions have not all been realised today. At best we can hope to bring down the government. We must not dream of destroying bourgeois society (translation in The Student Revolt, Panther. 1968).

But to say that all that could be done in the circumstances was to bring down the government without destroying capitalism is tantamount to saying that all that could be done was to replace one government of capitalism by another. Cohn-Bendit did not shrink from this conclusion:

  Suppose the workers hold out too and the regime falls. What will happen then? The left will come to power. Everything will then depend on what it does. If it changes the system — I must admit I doubt if it will — it will have an audience, and all will be well. But if we have a Wilson-style government, with or without the Communists, which only proposes minor reforms and adjustments, then the extreme left will regain its strength and we shall have to go on posing the real problems of social control, workers’ power, and so on.

So Cohn-Bendit was lucid enough to recognise that, in the circumstances obtaining in May-June 1968, the only possible alternative to the Gaullist regime was some left-wing government. In the end this did come but 13 years later, when Mitterrand was elected President and appointed a Wilson-style government with PCF Ministers. As was inevitable, since capitalism can never be made to function in the interest of the wage and salary earners, this government failed miserably to solve working class problems — just as it would have done had it come to power in 1968.

This being so, it is pertinent to ask if raising the issue of a change of regime was not a diversion from the economic objectives of the general strike such as higher wages and better conditions. Actually, the French working class behaved in a remarkably intelligent way: refusing to get themselves killed in an attempt to replace the Gaullist regime by a government of left-wing politicians, which would have brought them no benefit, they profited from the momentary weakness of the regime in place to extract higher wages and a number of other concessions.

Naturally the student and political activists (Trotskyists. Maoists and other assorted followers of Ho Chi Minh. Che Guevara and Castro) found this a rather timid attitude and blamed the trade unions for betraying the workers who, according to them, were waiting for a lead to take action to overthrow both Gaullism and capitalism. But it is clear that it was the unions who were more representative of working-class opinion and had the more realistic if less exciting attitude. Workers are not as stupid as Leninists imply in their contemptuous dictum that ’’left to themselves, workers are only capable of acquiring a trade union consciousness". Trade union consciousness alone is indeed far from socialist consciousness but it is far in advance of Leninism. As one wit has put it, it would be more correct to say that, left to themselves, students are only capable of acquiring a Leninist consciousness.

May '68 was, however, rather more than a general strike for economic ends sparked off by student riots. It also had a deep and lasting effect on social attitudes in France — decline of authoritarianism and paternalism in all fields — and it led everywhere to an interest in radical social ideas. Books by and about Marx as well as Rosa Luxemburg, Anton Pannekoek, Paul Mattick and other radical thinkers became readily available (alongside, it is true, less helpful works by Trotsky). All sorts of ideas came to be discussed. Tariq Ali. who saw himself as the British equivalent of Dany-le-Rouge. even declared in June 1968 on a television programme about the student revolt "we believe in the abolition of money". Naturally, with such ideas springing up spontaneously, socialists were able to get our point of view over much more easily than normally. The revival of genuine socialist ideas may prove to be the most lasting historical effect of May 1968. In any event, we are still working to ensure that it is.

Adam Buick

Paris Commune 1871 (2021)

From the May 2021 issue of the Socialist Standard

May 28 marks the 150th anniversary since the French Army captured the Communards’ final positions, officially marking the end of the Paris Commune, the first living example of workers in control of political power. Preceded by the Franco-Prussian War, which ended after Prussian forces besieged Paris for over four months, the Commune began on March 18, 1871, following a failed attempt by the French Army to seize 400 cannons that the Government of National Defence deemed ‘state property’, even though Parisians themselves paid for the cannons via a subscription. The French Army retreated to Versailles and Paris’s National Guard then took control of the city for over two months before the French Army could gather enough reinforcements to return and slaughter the Communards during Bloody Week. Along with the Prussian Army, who’d just defeated the French, they injured as many as 10,000 Communards and massacred as many as another 10,000, with 147 alone being shot at what’s now called Communards’ Wall in Père Lachaise cemetery the day before the French and Prussian armies fully suppressed the uprising. The French Army captured over 43,000 prisoners during and immediately after Bloody Week, 13,500 of whom were either sentenced to imprisonment, deportation, forced labour, or death.

Barricade at Paris 1871

The Paris Commune arguably stands out as the first peek at what the last phase of capitalism might have looked like, as well as what challenges the working class might face in attempting to surpass it. Though the Commune was ultimately foiled, events like this are always worth analysing for any lessons that can be learned, whether good or bad, and applied to the future.

The Good

One of the best aspects of the Commune was that it was leaderless. Leaders necessarily imply followers placing all their faith in them, even though no one’s infallible. Having a leader also allows an easy target to be picked off, incapacitating their followers at the drop of a hat. Rather than leaders, the Commune had mandated delegates, elected by the Communards themselves, who were recallable any moment the people felt a delegate wasn’t carrying out their will — a direct democracy. They also had plans to implement the same structure of self-government across the rural areas of France, having district assemblies in the central towns and having those send delegates to the National Delegation in Paris — decentralised self-government. Magistrates and judges were elected and immediately revocable, as well.

The Commune also passed a decree which implemented a separation of church and state, as well as another allowing everyone to attend school free of charge, with some arrondissements giving out free school supplies, clothes, and food for children — mutual aid. The police were also made revocable, and they abolished conscription, along with the standing army, declaring the National Guard — which included all citizens able to bear arms — as the Commune’s only armed force. Much to the surprise of the bourgeois government, there was no violence between Communards during the entire two months. Pensions were also granted to the unmarried companions and children of national guardsmen killed in active service. The death penalty was abolished and the guillotine was even brought out by the National Guard and publicly burned as the crowd celebrated.

It’s said that the highest salary given to an employee of the Commune was 6,000 francs, though that claim has been contested. Regardless, they abolished child labour, as well as night work for bakers, since it’s very difficult to get sleep while you’re cooking bread. Employees were given the right to take over and run any businesses that were abandoned by their owners and any fines imposed by employers on their employees were prohibited. All workmen’s tools and household items that were given to pawn shops during the siege, valued up to 20 francs, were returned for free and, later, the Commune ordered the closure of all pawn shops themselves, since they were deemed a private exploitation of labour. There was a moratorium on all rents during the siege, meaning they were supposed to be paid back afterward, but the Commune forgave all rent for homes from October 1870 through April 1871, with any amounts already paid counting instead towards future rent, along with a postponement of commercial debt obligations, and the abolition of interest on any debts.

The Bad

It’s much easier to play Monday morning quarterback with uprisings rather than actually participate in them, but it’s always important to take a critical look at these kinds of situations to parse out any decisions made due to bad circumstances from those made due to bad foresight. One of the first that stands out is the fact that, despite many women playing important roles in the Commune, they weren’t allowed to vote in the Commune elections. Only three countries had ever granted women suffrage before this, but — considering the fact that the Communards were seeking economic equality — it wouldn’t have been much of an ideological leap to extend that equality to women, too. Another drawback was the fact that they opted to keep the Commune Council’s meetings secret, citing war with the bourgeois government as their reason. They obviously should’ve tried their best to prevent any sensitive information from getting back to the French Army, though perhaps a reasonable middle ground could’ve been reached.

Aside from those decisions, there were a couple made that were pretty useless. One was the adoption of the French Republican Calendar. Considering the Commune was still at war, finagling with the date should have been the last thing on anyone’s mind, if only because it could complicate communications with allies outside the city. Communards also took to burning various buildings and monuments, two of the most prominent being the Vendôme Column and the home of Adolphe Thiers, the chief executive of the French government during the Commune. While individuals may decide to do that themselves, the only things the Commune administration should have been focused on at that time were keeping Parisians alive and surviving as a political institution— and burning buildings assists with neither of those.

As far as the financial decisions go, the Communards decided to take a loan from the Rothschild Bank to cover their expenses, rather than seize the 254 million francs in gold coins and banknotes left inside the vaults of the Bank of France — essentially leaving their greatest bargaining chip on the table. Had the Commune threatened to collapse the French currency, they might have got Thiers to do anything they wanted. Not only did they neglect to exploit that opportunity, but if employees took over a business, they also recognised the previous owner’s right to compensation. Employers rob employees for their surplus value and, by virtue of that alone, would have no reasonable right to compensation in this circumstance. That money could instead be used for more mutual aid.

Another big issue was censorship and repression. The Commune banned multiple pro-Versailles newspapers and created a Committee of Public Safety to hunt down and imprison enemies of the Commune, in the same vein as the Committee of the same name which committed the infamous Reign of Terror during the French Revolution. Considering how many times efforts like this had taken a turn for the worse before, the Commune should have avoided them at all costs. They also issued a decree which accused the Catholic Church of ‘complicity in the crimes of the monarchy’, arresting roughly 200 church officials afterward, along with another decree later called the Decree on Hostages, which stated that for every prisoner of war or Commune official that was executed by the French Army, the Commune would execute three hostages. However, it’s worth noting that, despite this decree and the fact that the French Army executed multiple Communards beforehand, the Commune executed none of their hostages until after the start of Bloody Week — and even then it was only 63, which pales in comparison to the roughly 10,000 Communards murdered in cold blood during that same week by the French and Prussian armies.

Arguably, there were also more than a few mistakes made on the military front. A major setback happened when the National Guard tried to march on the French Army in Versailles. The National Guard took power after the French soldiers refused to fire on them once instructed to during the soldiers’ attempted seizure of the cannons. The Communards naively assumed the same thing would happen again and advanced without cavalry, artillery, food, ammunition, or ambulances. Not only that, but they didn’t even scout the area ahead, subsequently passing a line of forts on the way that they thought were occupied by more national guardsmen but which had actually just been re-occupied by the French Army, causing the National Guard to suffer heavy artillery fire as a result.

As the French Army was returning to recapture Paris, divisions arose within the Commune about whether to give absolute priority to military defence, or to political and social freedoms and reforms. This decision honestly should’ve been a no-brainer, considering that any reforms would be undone if the Commune were to be drowned in blood. A key fort, Fort d’Issy, was captured by the French Army and the National Guard left the fortifications undefended by one part of the city wall at Point-du-Jour, allowing 60,000 soldiers to enter the city within a few hours. Without an overall planned defence or many barricades having been prepared in advance, it quickly turned into a bloodbath. To add insult to injury, when the Commune Council found out the walls of Paris had been breached, they were holding a trial for a former General — something that clearly could’ve waited until the war was over — and the last military commander they’d chosen, Louis Charles Delescluze, was a journalist who had absolutely zero military experience.

Most importantly, though, even if the Communards had done everything correctly, they were still acting prematurely. Not only was the majority of the working class still not socialist, but the majority of the Communards weren’t socialists in the proper sense, either. Aside from that, capitalism was still in its relative infancy, far from the complete global hegemony we’ve reached now and any developments that are bound to happen in the future. As frustrating as it may be, we have to remember that, no matter how badly a minority of the working class may want to establish socialism, they’ll fail until the material conditions have developed for them to succeed — two key conditions being productive forces capable of sustaining a socialist society, as well as a vast majority of the global working class understanding what socialism is and what responsibilities it would entail, while actively wanting to establish it. Nonetheless, the Commune was a noble effort that will surely go down in history as one of, if not the greatest, attempt at liberating the proletariat.

Jordan Levi

(WSPUS)

Marx’s considered opinion on the Paris Commune:

“[A]part from the fact that this was merely the rising of a town under exceptional conditions, the majority of the Commune was in no sense socialist, nor could it be. With a small amount of sound common sense, however, they could have reached a compromise with Versailles useful to the whole mass of the people — the only thing that could be reached at the time. The appropriation of the Bank of France alone would have been enough to dissolve all the pretensions of the Versailles people in terror, etc., etc.” (Letter to F.D. Nieuwenhuis, 22 February 1881) (see Marxist Archive)