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Four Books by King Mob (Dave and Stuart Wise) published by BPC

1 October – BPC Publishing has now issued TEN titles, available from Amazon/KDP. Four titles have been issued in the BPC WiseEbooks Series in 2024 as paperback and ebook. In reverse chronological order they are:

A Newcastle Dunciad 1966-2008: Recollections of a Musical and Artistic Avant Garde plus Bryan Ferry and the Newcastle Arts Scene (WiseEbooks Sries No. 4))  – 24 Sept. 2024.

In 1966, King Mob founders Stuart and David Wise were students at Newcastle School of Art, publishing the avant garde magazine Icteric. A Newcastle Dunciad, the latest in the WisEbook Series, recalls the ideas and practices of the Tyneside radicals and how they were ‘recuperated” by the developers for the post-industrial ‘regeneration’ of Tyneside. This volume also has a Situationist critique of their art school contemporary, Bryan Ferry.

King Mob: The Negation and Transcendence of Art: Malevich, Schwitters, Hirst, Banksy, Mayakovsky, Situationists, Tatlin, Fluxus, Black Mask (WiseEbooks Series No. 3– 21 May 2024

Twin brothers David and Stuart Wise, as art students in mid-1960s Newcastle, immersed themselves the radical ideas of Icteric (‘the often confusedly anti-art magazine’). The Wises participated in the saving and restoration of Kurt Schwitters’ Lakeland Merz Barn, and organised a controversial commemoration of the Russian Futurist, Kazimir Malevich. The documents in this book, written over a 50-year period, describe these and subsequent efforts by the Wises to subvert the ‘recuperation’ of ‘art’ into the capitalist culture industry.
In reflection on their engagements with like-minded radicals – the English and French Situationists, New York’s Black Mask collective, the London-based King Mob, and more recent formations – the authors consider how and why the Revolution ‘due to unforeseen circumstances’ did not take place. They also analyze the recuperation of radical aesthetic ideas in the works of latter-day chancers like Damian Hurst and Banksy.

Dialectical Butterflies: Ecocide, Extinction Rebellion, Greenwash and Rewilding the Commons – an Illustrated Dérive (WiseEbooks No. 2 – 12 March 2024)

Beautifully illustrated with original colour photos, Dialectical Butterflies is a psychogeographical exercise in butterfly preservation as part of the environmentalist, anti-capitalist struggle against ecocide, The lifelong fascination of David Wise and his late twin, Stuart, with the ecology of butterflies goes back to their involvement in the mid-1960s surrealist-inspired radical arts scene in Newcastle. From their contact with the Situationist International the Wise brothers adopted the concept of ‘recuperation’ which they see exemplified in today’s ‘greenwashing’ PR exercises. Their latter-day rewilding campaign is effectively a post-situationist Longue Dérive through the relatively forsaken terrains of derelict industrial sites and zones of autonomy in northern England; as well as the contested public space of Wormwood Scrubs in London.

BPC Title: King Mob: The Negation and Transcendence of Art (illustrated).

 

Lost Texts Around King Mob by Dave and Stuart Wise with contributions from Ronald Hunt, John Barker, Fred Vermorel, Chris Gray and Phil Meyler (BPC WisEbooks Series No. 1 – Jan. 2024).

King Mob was initially a coming together in London of members of the English section of the Paris-based Situationist InternationaI and like-minded individuals from Newcastle associated with the anti-art magazine, Icteric, and the Black Hand Gang. Following Guy Debord’s expulsion of the English members from the Situationist InternationaI in December 1967, the King Mob Echo was co-founded in April 1968 by former SI member, Chris Gray and ‘friends from the north’, Dave and Stuart Wise.
The material in this collection by King Mob writers and their associates still has a power to provocatively invigorate and open-up new directions of thought and action emanating from a subversive critique of culture. For the most part, these texts have been forgotten and therefore never archived in the libraries of art history and the ‘popsicle academy’ of media/music studies. Indeed, they had to be rescued from what Marx referred to as “the gnawing criticism of the mice”.

For more books published by BPC see HERE

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Cities of the Dreadful Future: The Legacy of Psychogeography, Urbanism and the Dérive in London and Paris

Unitary urbanism expressed a vision of city planning based on aesthetic and technological innovations in architecture, but freed from subordination to the needs of corporate developers and the endless expansion of private car ownership. Such pleasurable activity as the Dérive had yet to be impoverished by the pollution and noise of traffic jams, and the vandalism of planners and developers. Chtcheglev could still write of a future in which city dwellers would reclaim the streets: “we will construct cities for drifting… but with light retouching, one can utilize certain zones which already exist. One can utilize certain persons who already exist.”v

By David Black
9 January 2023
The British Dérive

Alex Trocchi, Scottish novelist, Francophile and one-time Situationist, once reminisced about his friendship with Guy Debord in the 1950s:

“I remember long, wonderful psycho-geographical walks in London with Guy. He took me to places in London I didn’t know, that he sensed, that I’d never have been to if it hadn’t been with him. He was a man who could discover a city… He had a magical quality… Distances didn’t seem to matter to the man. Walking in London, in the daytime, at night, he’d bring me to a spot he’d found, and the place would begin to live. Some old forgotten part of London. Then he’d reach back for a story, for a piece of history, as if he’d been there. He’d quote from Marx, or Treasure Island, or De Quincey.”[ Greil Marcus, Lipstick Traces, p.388.

Alex Trochhi

“Psychogeography” was formulated by Debord and his colleagues as “the study of the specific effects of the geographical environment, consciously organized or not, on the emotions and behaviours of individuals.” The practice of Psychogeography involved the Dérive: a form of daydreaming during excursions on foot through the urban environment, defined as “a technique of transient passage through varied ambiances.”

Psychogeography has, directly or indirectly, influenced a number of British writers. In Michael Moorcock’s novel of 1988, Mother London,  the space-time of the city is explored through the fragmented voices of mental patients in the Thatcherite 1980s, whose traumas are traced back to the mythology and reality of the Blitz. As a lead character says, “All great old cities possess their special myths. Amongst London’s is the story of the Blitz, of our endurance.” Indeed, the primary cause for the fate of modern London was the Second World War, in which the Luftwaffe’s bomber squadrons, doodlebug missiles and V2 rockets killed 30,000 Londoners and destroyed 70,000 buildings. Ironically, the damage to the city empowered post-war planners, architects and property developers to impose further environmental disaster by bulldozing much of Georgian and Victorian London under the banner of ‘modernization’ — although, by way of recompense, money-making ‘heritage’ spots were saved for tourism, and the facades of many iconic buildings were preserved to cover up the gutting of the interiors.

In the 21st century, as the British economy sinks into the North Sea under the mists of Brexiternity, the London skyline continues its upward trajectory of dystopian skyscrapers; all of which appear to give-the-finger to rest of the city as a Psychogeographical “fuck you” from the non-doms, oligarchs, banksters and money-launderers who run the British economy through their tropical tax havens. The once sweet River Thames, regularly polluted with waste by the Thames Water company (that flagship of Thatcher’s privatisations), now flows softly only for tourists, millionaire party-goers on pleasure boats, and the tenants of the new yuppie-hutches which screen the river off from the Londoners who once enjoyed walking its banks.

In Britain, psychogeography, in the hands of academics, journalists, novelists and visual artists has become an inventive technique for exploring cities. Novelist, Will Self, an admirer of Guy Debord’s Situationist writings, teaches psychogeography at London Brunel University. One of Self’s nonfiction books, Psychogeography (2007), features accounts of his Dérives, walking the streets of London and other cities. By consciously suppressing the usual concerns of time and destination, Self finds for himself a more autonomous actualisation of subjective experience, capable of “dissolving the mechanised matrix which compresses the space-time continuum.” Karen O’Rourke writes in Psychogeography: A Purposeful Drift Through the City (2021), “If geographers ‘carve’, ‘draw’, or ‘write’ the earth, psychogeographers add a zest of soul to the mix, linking earth, mind and foot.” Psychogeography, “[i]n its diverse forms.. embodies the desire to renew language, social life, and oneself. For contemporary psychogeographers, the drift is purposeful; it can reveal the city’s underlying structure.” Sonia Overall, in Heavy Time (2021), drifts along the old pilgrim roads from Canterbury to London and takes in her home town of Ely and a landscape of ancient chapels, ruined farms and suburban follies, Overall, in her secular Dérive,  seeks out “thin places”, which constitute a sort of membrane where past and the present seem to collide and suggest  “where new ways of living might begin.”

Iain Sinclair, in his novels and poems from the 1970s onwards, has utilised psychogeographic techniques without paying much attention to their Situationist origins. His ’Lights Out for Territory, 9 Excursions in the Secret History of London (1997) inaugurated a twenty-year cycle of mainly non-fiction books on the unravelling of the city’s social and historical fabric, culminating in The Last London: True Fictions from an Unreal City (2017). The pragmatic nihilism which has “renewed” the London landscape has negated the Dérive as meaningful activity and has even changed the meaning of words to cover up old adages such as “never apologise, never explain”:

“So:​ the last London. It has to be said with a climbing inflection at the end. Every statement is provisional here. Nothing is fixed or grounded. Come back tomorrow and the British Museum will be an ice rink, a boutique hotel, a fashion hub. The familiar streets outside will have vanished into walls of curved glass and progressive holes in the ground. The darkened showroom of the Brick Lane monumental mason with the Jewish headstones will be an art gallery. So?…That insignificant ‘so’ has moved with the times… Now it’s a signifier, a warning bleep letting the recipient know that nothing that follows has any billable consequence. The speaker, the spokesperson, the hireling expert, is not accountable.”

Having charted the social-cleansing of the poorer parts of London by means of development projects and gentrification, Sinclair declared: “I don’t think there is any more that can be said. The topic has outlived its usefulness and become a brand.”

An especially banal example which illustrates this branding is a promotional piece by Frank Jacobs in the Big Think for the 2022 London Circle Walk. He advises,

“Don’t look up ‘psychogeography’. Again and again, you’ll come across Guy Debord, the Marxist theorist who coined the term in 1955… Persist in your research, and you’ll fall down a rabbit hole of mid-century French social, political, and philosophical theory, from which it is safe to say no one escapes entirely unscathed. Rather, think of it simply as what the term itself promises: the crossroads of psychology and geography… It’s unclear whether that would still be in keeping with the tenets of psychogeography as defined by Debord and practiced by the Situationists. But it does sound like a lot more fun than one of their meetings.”

If Jacobs was a bit more familiar with what he writing about, he might recognise himself as a “recuperator.” One of the key tenets of Situationist thought is the concept of recuperation, which describes the process of how subversive elements are contained,co-opted or neutralised by assimilation into the Spectacle as consumable commodities. As for “fun”, defined by the Oxford English Dictionary as “boisterous joviality or merrymaking”, there was, as we shall see, plenty of that, but a lot more.

Down the Rabbit Hole: How it Began

After Liberation from the Nazis, post-war revolutionaries in Paris dedicated to new ways of living began to challenge the dominance of Surrealism within the avant-garde. As Debord articulated it 20 years later in Society of the Spectacle:

“Dadaism and surrealism are the two currents which mark the end of modern art. They are contemporaries, though only in a relatively conscious manner, of the last great assault of the revolutionary proletarian movement; and the defeat of this movement, which left them imprisoned in the same artistic field whose decrepitude they had announced… Dadaism wanted to suppress art without realizing it; surrealism wanted to realize art without suppressing it.”

In 1947 a major Paris publishing house issued a book by the 20-year-old Romanian exile, Isidore Isou, entitled Introduction d’une nouvelle poésie et d’une nouvelle musique. Isou analyzed poetic language as having gone through an “amplification” process in the romantic period, followed by a “chiseling” process under Baudelaire, Rimbaud and Mallarme, until Dada finally destroyed it. For Isou, once the chisel of history had done its work, the truth and beauty of poetic language was no longer to be found in words, but in letters, representing figures and sounds. Isou’s “Letterists” (or “Lettrists”) experimented in paintings made up of letters, and sound-poems. They also challenged the separation between art and life. In a manifesto for a “Youth Front” Isou hailed the youth of France as a sort of sub-proletariat: alienated by the educational system, excluded from consumerism by low pay or unemployment, and oppressed by the archaic French Penal Code. The first act of the Youth Front was a riotous assualt on the staff at a brutal Catholic orphanage, which ended in arrest and imprisonment for some of the attackers. In a similar spirit, in 1950, a group of Letterists led by Michel Mourre, disguised as a Dominican monk, disrupted Easter Mass at Notre Dame by announcing “God is Dead,” and reading out an anti-religious poem. They were attacked with swords by the Swiss guards and almost lynched by the congregation before the police came to the rescue and arrested them. On the cultural front, venerable Surrealists, regarded by Isou as conformist and bourgeois, found their exhibitions and poetry readings disrupted by Letterists shouting ‘”surrealism is dead!”

Isou extended the “chiseling” concept to cinema with his Traite de bave et d”eternite (Slime and Eternity) which, when “premiered” at the Cannes Film Festival, caused a near riot (not least because Isou hadn’t finished it, so that for last 90 minutes the audience was subjected to the soundtrack in total darkness). In 1952 Isou recruited two other film-makers: Guy Debord and Gil Wolman.

Left to right: Wolman, Dahou, Debord, Chtcheglov

In 1952, at the Paris premiere of Charlie Chaplin’s Limelight, Debord and Wolman handed out a statement which ended with the words: “the footlights have melted the make-up of the supposedly brilliant mime. All we can see now is a lugubrious and mercenary old man. Go home Mister Chaplin.” As Chaplin had been barred from the United States for suspected “communist” sympathies, the French Left was deeply offended by the action. The attack was probably motivated at least in part by a statement of support for Chaplin put out by leading Surrealists. The Chaplin “disruption” was too much for Isou, who first praised it, but then backtracked and denied all responsibility. Debord and Wolman, along with writer Michele Bernstein, took this as their cue to break with Isou and form a rival “Letterist International.”

Guy Debord and friends in the film: On the Passage of a Few Persons
Through a Rather Brief Unity of Time

The members and fellow-travelers of the Letterist International were young; nearly all of them in their teens or early twenties. These “lost children” (les enfants perdus) were of the generation that had grown up during the Nazi occupation (some of their parents had been Jewish deportees or Maquisards), but had been too young to fight in the resistance. As political radicals, they felt betrayed by the re-imposition, post-Liberation, of a “traditional” conservatism which kept intact the authoritarian penal code and a Gendarmarie which had in large part collaborated with the Nazi occupiers. They also felt betrayed by the bureaucratic, class-collaborationist French Communist Party, the ineffective and dogmatic Trotskyists, and the recuperated Surrealist avant-garde. Also, they did their best to resist conscription for France’s imperialist wars in Indo-China and Algeria.

The headquarters of the new international was a bar in the Arab quarter of Paris’s Left Bank. According to one of the regulars, Elaine Papai (who married Jean-Louis Brau, the Letterist poet):

“The life of the Situationist International cannot be disentangled from Saint-German-des-Prés and the climate that once reigned in that neighbourhood. The Letterist International had set up its headquarters at Moineau’s, a low dive in Rue du Four where the letterists were joined by hitherto unaffiliated young revolutionaries. Drugs, alcohol, and girls (especially underage ones) were part of the folklore of the Letterist International, as revealed in certain slogans of that time which, curiously enough, reappeared on the walls of Paris in May 1968. ‘Never Work!’ ‘Ether is freely available,’ or ‘Let us live!’”

(Quoted in Vincent Kaufmann, Guy Debord: Revolution in the Service of Poetry)

Another young woman of the group, the Australian artist, Vali Myers, recalls,

“They were the rootless children from every corner of Europe. Many had no home, no parents, no papers. For the cops, their legal status was “vagrant.” Which is why they all ended up sooner or later in La Santé [prison].We lived in the streets, in the cafes, like a pack of mongrel dogs. We had our hierarchy, our own codes. Students and people with jobs were kept out. As for the few tourists who came around to gawk at “existentialists,” it was all right to con them. We always managed to have rough wine and hash from Algeria. We shared everything.”

(Quoted in Kaufmann, ibid)
Vali Myers (Ann), Roberto Inigez-Morelosy (Manuel) et Géraldine Krongold (Geri) Paris, 1950, Ed van der Elsken Nederlands Fotomuseum Rotterdam. © Ed van der Elsken / Collection Stedelijk Museum Amsterdam

Unlike the rest of the avant-garde, the Letterist International refused to be “answerable” to the court of art criticism and the gaze of the “other,” refused to seek fame, and declined to market anything they produced. The LI’s mimeographed journal Potlatch, which appeared in twenty issues between June 1954 and November 1957, had an eventual print run of five hundred copies. It was always given away free to friends of the group, or mailed to people who expressed an interest. The Letterist International’s theory of “unitary urbanism” was first formulated by the nineteen-year-old Ivan Chtcheglev:

“Darkness and obscurity are banished by artificial lighting, and the seasons by air conditioning. Night and summer are losing their charm and dawn is disappearing. The urban population think they have escaped from cosmic reality, but there is no corresponding expansion of their dream life. The reason is clear: dreams spring from reality and are realized in it. The latest technological developments would make possible the individual’s unbroken contact with cosmic reality while eliminating its disagreeable aspects. Stars and rain can be seen through glass ceilings. The mobile house turns with the sun. Its sliding walls enable vegetation to invade life. Mounted on tracks, it can go down to the sea in the morning and return to the forest in the evening… The architecture of tomorrow will be a means of modifying present conceptions of time and space.”

‘Unitary Urbanism’. International Situationists Issue !

Unitary urbanism expressed a vision of city planning based on aesthetic and technological innovations in architecture, but freed from subordination to the needs of corporate developers and the endless expansion of private car ownership. Such pleasurable activity as the Dérive had yet to be impoverished by the pollution and noise of traffic jams, and the vandalism of planners and developers. Chtcheglev could still write of a future in which city dwellers would reclaim the streets: “we will construct cities for drifting… but with light retouching, one can utilize certain zones which already exist. One can utilize certain persons who already exist.”v

In 1957 the Letterist International, the Movement for Imaginist Bauhaus, and the former-surrealists of CoBrA (Copenhagen-Brussels-Amsterdam) led by the Danish painter Asger Jorn, came together to found the Situationist International (1957-72). Within a few months other groups from Italy and West Germany affiliated to the SI, thus inaugurating a stormy fifteen-year process of fusions, schisms and expulsions, and an equally stormy spread across the globe of Situationist ideas, which were themselves by no means immune to ideological and cultural “recuperation.” The concept of détournement, in the hands of practitioners throughout the world, was to give rise to numerous innovations, such as the subversive use of comic books and pirate radio, the defacing of advertisements with additional images and words. But détournement. first conceived as a counter-measure against recuperation, was further developed by the Situationists into a more general concept of spontaneous rebellion against the technology of consumption.

By 1968, when the streets of the Paris were once again fought over, the city of the Letterists had disappeared and its utopian urbanist potential had already been destroyed by urban development and tourism..Debord observed in Society of the Spectacle (1967):

“Tourism, human circulation considered as consumption, a by-product of the circulation of commodities, is fundamentally nothing more than the leisure of going to see what has become banal. The economic organization of visits to different places is already in itself the guarantee of their equivalence. The same modernization that removed time from the voyage also removed from it the reality of space… Urbanism is capitalism’s seizure of the natural and human environment; developing logically into absolute domination, capitalism can and must now remake the totality of space into its own setting. ”

How it Ends

In 1988, Debord reflected that in the two decades since he wrote Society of the Spectacle, capitalist modernization had led to the stage of the “integrated spectacle”, characterized by incessant technological renewal; fusion of State and economy; generalized secrecy; forgeries without reply; and a perpetual present which “wants to forget the past and no longer seems to believe in a future.” His analysis foresaw the feed-back loop now perfected by electronic social media, “achieved by the ceaseless circular passage of information, always returning to the same short list of trivialities, passionately proclaimed as major discoveries.” Meanwhile, he continued, “news of what is genuinely important, of what is actually changing, comes rarely, and then in fits and starts. It always concerns this world’s apparent condemnation of its own existence, the stages in its programmed self-destruction.”

The “cancellation of the Future” – or rather of any positive “visions” of it – has been silently accepted by the pragmatists of the political class. Labour Party leader, Kier Starmer, having viciously suppressed Jeremy Corbyn’s mass following, blurts out meaningless abstractions about “security” and “stability” for a “dynamic, agile, strong and, above all, focused” nation, “driven by clear, measurable objectives”. As Adam Curtis suggested in a recent podcast, the future is seen by politicians as a dark and dangerous thing-in-itself, which the fearful and obedient masses supposedly rely of politicians to protect them from.  The politicians pretend that they know what they are doing. The public knows they are pretending. And the politicians know that the public knows they are pretending. And yet, any talk of actually doing something about the problems in the here and now is regarded as a dangerous and “unhelpful” heresy which our current Tory regime seems well on the way to making a criminal offence. I would suggest, by way of conclusion, that the Letterist and Situationist “extremists” had, as well as a sense of history, much more of a grasp of strategy and activist practice than today’s environmental campaigners have.

REFERENCES AND FURTHER READING ON THIS SITE

Asger Jorn, Détourned Painting and the Situationists

Alexander Trocchi: Psychedelic Situationist

Situationist Theses on the Paris Commune

Charles Radcliffe, former Situationist

Iain Sinclair: Poetry with the AMM All-Stars on Resonance FM

FURTHER READING OFF-SITE

Karen O’Rourke, in Psychogeography: A Purposeful Drift Through the City

Guy Debord, Society of the Spectacle

Guy Debord, Comments on Society of the Spectacle

Iain Sinclair, The Last London, London Review of Books Vol. 39 No. 7 · 30 March 2017

Adam Curtis on the fall of the Soviet Union’s worrying parallels with modern Britain (Youtube)

Ivan Chtcheglev, Formulary for a New Urbanism.

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How Green was the Psychedelic Revolution? Acid King Richard Kemp breaks his 45-year silence

BY DAVID BLACK

24 November 2022

“We need history, but not in the same way a loafer in the garden of knowledge needs it.” – Friedrich Nietzsche

In March 1977 the first national police operation in history, codenamed Operation Julie, carried out what the media hailed as the “biggest drugs raid in British history”. The drug was LSD, made by one gang in London and another in Carno, mid-Wales. In March 1978, at Bristol Crown Court, 29 defendants were handed down prison sentences totalling 170 years.

One of them – who got 13 years – was Richard Kemp, the brilliant chemist who had founded the illicit LSD enterprise back in 1968 with American Beat writer David Solomon (who got 10 years). As suggested by the six-part BBC podcast, Acid Dream, (October/November 2022), Kemp was also something a Green prophet. To a certain extent I think he was, but I fear that there is a myth in the making of what is otherwise sound history.

Acid Dream concentrates on the illegal goings in mid-Wales in 1976-7. Participants include LSD distributor, Alston Hughes; former undercover cop, Stephen Bentley; Kemp’s partner, the late Christine Bott (words spoken by an actor) and Kate Hayes, who knew Christine in her later years and published her memoirs in 2020.

What is certain is that Kemp, while on remand in prison wrote an 8,000-word statement which he intended to present at the trial in 1978, but he was dissuaded from doing so by his lawyers, who thought it to be too political and insufficiently repentant. A week after the Julie trial ended, parts of the document were published in the Cambrian News. Journalist Patrick O’Brien introduced it as ‘Microdoctrine – the beliefs behind Kemp’s LSD,’ and summarised Kemp’s views on ecology:

“On ecology and conservation Kemp believes it is obvious we are living on the world’s capital rather than its income. He says that to achieve a level of consumption that is reasonable, taking into account the Earth’s limited and dwindling resources, two things are necessary. People will have accept a lower stand of living by being content with having things which are necessary for survival, and luxuries will have to kept to minimum. Secondly these goods which are supplied will have to be built to have the longest possible lifespan, at the end of which they must be capable of being recycled… In common with expert scientific opinion he was convinced that, if Earth’s raw materials were to be conserved and pollution reduced to a tolerable level, there would have to be a revolution in people’s attitude. And he believed LSD could spark changes in outlook and put the world on the road to survival.”

Richard Kemp wrote in his own words:

“It has been my experience and that of many of those I know, that LSD helps to make one realise that happiness is a state of mind and not a state of ownership.”

And,

“Insofar as LSD can catalyze such a change in members of the public, it can contribute to this end… I have never believed that LSD is the substitute for the hard work required to change oneself. One might say it is a signpost pointing a way to self-discovery.”

In the final episode of Acid Dream, Richard Kemp – now 79 years old – breaks his 45-year silence. Kate Hayes travelled beyond these shores to his home (which he keeps secret) and interviewed him. He is no longer the idealist he was. Sadly, he has lost hope of a rational ecological solution to impending doom, but recognizes that Kate, as a mother, has to live in hope and fight on. In the taped interview with Kate, Kemp admits making money was a serious motivation for making acid, but adds,

“I think my motivation was to change the course of human history. You can’t have a much higher motivation than that. The Earth’s resources are finite. And they are being used up, and when they’re used up they’re gone. We’re changing the ecology of the planet in a way we’ll be able to feed fewer and fewer people at the same time that population is continuing to grow. So for me it was like I was never quite sure what my purpose in life was to be, and then it was as if suddenly ‘now I know why I’ve been born and now I know what I’ve got to do’. I didn’t ask myself whether I was completely sure about this for very long. I just thought I’m the right man, the right person at the right time, with the right skills and right temperament. Everything about it said ‘do it man, do it, go for it’”.

Hayes interjects to say that the late Christine Bott (who got a vicious 9 years prison sentence for being Kemp’s partner) didn’t actually regret any of it. Did he?

“I regret getting caught, I regret the fact that she got dragged down with me. If I could have got her out of it I would have done.”

Hayes suggests. “The mistake it seems was having to do the tableting at the farmhouse.” Kemp responds,

“Yeah. Well I made plenty of mistakes. No doubt about that. And it was during that period when I had the [motor] accident and the poor vicars wife died as a result of that. That’s something that I’ve got on my conscience for the rest of my life.”

Finally, actor Rhys Ifans reads Kemp’s “words, taken from his Microdoctrine written 45 years ago”:

“Before too long our planet will be facing untold challenges. Maybe not in our lifetimes, but certainly in the ones of those who come directly after us. The earth does not have inexhaustible resources and we are living on its capital, not its income. We consume and consume and consume, and bear no thoughts for what we’re doing for the path it’s putting us on. Temperatures will soar, see levels will rise, animals will perish, natural resources will evaporate before our eyes – before we have a chance to come up with a Plan B.

We will no longer be able to live off the land because the land will no longer want us. And that, that is when things will get really ugly. People will starve, be dispossessed of the places they called home. And we’ll begin to fight over the last barrel of oil, the last drop of water, the last ear of corn. Wars will be waged, bombs will be dropped, the world will become about the haves and the have nots. And eventually the rift between the ultra-rich and the ultra-poor will become unassailable because the world will have been looking the wrong way.

Politicians, businessmen, moguls – they will step on the throats of their own people to save their billions while the earth is crumbling apart beneath their feet. Then you’ll get anarchy , the word you like to band about like it’s a walk in the park. Then you’ll see what real anarchy is like. We need a revolution in people’s minds. We need a spark to put the world on a road to survival. We are living on the worlds capital, not the world’s income. And when the capital runs out I dread to think what will happen next.”

Movingly read by Ifans, the text is beautiful and terrifying; the spell binding words of an eco-prophet in fact. But it should not be quoted by the BBC as a statement from Microdoctrine in 1978; because it isn’t. True, a few memorable sentences are Kemp’s (eg “We are living on the worlds capital, not the world’s income”) but the overall passage bears as much resemblance to Kemp’s political insights in 1978, as does Tacitus’s ‘creative’ first century account of Caledonian chieftain Calgacus’s speech denouncing Roman Imperialism (“To robbery, slaughter, plunder, they give the lying name of empire; they make a solitude and call it peace”).

Questions arise. Does an authentic copy of the 8,000 word document Kemp passed to the Cambrian Times in 1978 still exist? If so, who has it and what plans are there to publish it in full? The supposed extract from Microdoctrine features in Theatr na nÓg’s production of Operation Julie – the Rock Opera, which (desrvedly) was a huge hit touring Wales in the summer of 2022. The show was written by Geinor Styles, and the passage in question found its way into the theatre program as an extract from Microdoctrine, Could it be somewhere along the way to Acid Dream writer, Tim Price, the text somehow lost its warning label: “dramatic license”? Adopting (or distorting) historical facts to suit myth-making may be great for entertainment (never let the facts get in the way of a good story, as they say). But rewriting history is politically evil and manipulative as a contribution towards saving the ecosphere from disaster. In our perilous “post-truth” world of an unstable and volatile social media facts really are sacred.

Postscript

22 February 2023 — The ending of the final episode, of the BBC Radio podcast, Acid Dream, ‘The Microdoctrine’, has been re-edited since it was originally broadcast on 22 November 2022. In this new version, the Microdoctrine “extract” has been cut, as has the statement that it consisted of Richard Kemp’s “words, taken from his Microdoctrine written 45 years ago.” The statement has been replaced by a segment featuring actors reading extracts from the dramatisation of Kemp’s views in 1978 written by Geinor Styles for Theatr na nÓg’s production of Operation Julie – the Rock Opera. There has been no explanation offered from the BBC regarding the change, or acknowledgement that it was this blog that pointed it out the error (after all it’s only a blog, right?). Still, The Barbarism of Pure Culture welcomes the BBC’s public-spirited rewriting of what was previously an unfortunate rewriting of history. The six-part podcast, Acid Dream, is on the BBC website for the rest of 2023.

References

Catherine Hayes, The Untold Story of Christine Bott

Andy Roberts, Albion Dreaming: A popular history of LSD in Britain

David Black, LSD Underground: Operation Juliem the Microdot Gang and the Brotherhood of Eternal Love

Adid Dream Podcast

History of LSD and Psychedelia – BPC Books

From BPC Publishing

Psychedelic Tricksters: A True Secret History of LSD (New Edition) (Psychedelic History) Paperback – 8 Jun. 2022

Timothy Leary, High Priest of LSD, predicted: “‘The next war for control of this planet and beyond has to do with the control of consciousness”.From the late-1940s onwards, the US Central Intelligence Agency secretly attempted to use psychedelic drugs for purposes of social control and psychological warfare. But in the 1960s, LSD escaped its captors as a new generation of rebellious youth on both sides of the Atlantic discovered psychedelics as means for expanding consciousness rather than controlling it. Exploding many of the myths surrounding LSD, the CIA and the counterculture, this book explores the roles and motivations of the ‘Tricksters’ on both sides in this world-changing phenomenon.

LSD UNDERGROUND: Operation Julie, the Microdot Gang and the Brotherhood of Eternal Love (Psychedelic History) Paperback – 21 Mar. 2022

In 1968, an expatriate American Beat writer and two Liverpool chemistry students launched a conspiracy to illegally manufacture LSD. It grew into a global industry, supplying the festival-going youth of the 1970s with tens of millions of trips.
It took the police several years to realise what had been established under their noses: laboratories manufacturing LSD; supply-chains for ingredients; and distribution networks which resembled the structure of terrorist cells. In 1977, ‘Operation Julie’, complete with a team of undercover ‘hippie cops’, carried out the ‘biggest drugs bust in British history’.
The hippies wanted to bring about mass psychedelic enlightenment, but their idealism was compromised by the exigencies of running an organised crime group. Their prosecution was weaponised in a culture war to uphold ‘traditional’ values at the very time Margaret Thatcher was presenting herself as their enforcer.
Based on documented testimony and personal accounts from ‘both’ sides, this book presents for the first time a roller-coaster, blow-by-blow account of the genesis, rise and fall of the LSD Underground.

Four Alternatives to Left Vanguardism

CLR James, Cornelius Castoriadis, Guy Debord, Raya Dunayevskaya

By David Black

1 September 2024

1. CLR James

[Grace Lee Boggs, CLR James, Raya Dunayevskaya]

CLR James was born in Trinidad in 1901 and died in London in 1989. In 1932 James left Trinidad and sailed to England to help cricketer Learie Constantine write his autobiography. After working for the Manchester Guardian as a cricket correspondent, James moved to London. He took part in the Pan-African movement, the Independent Labour Party and got involved in Trotskyist politics. James had several books published, including, in 1936, the highly-acclaimed Black Jacobins, the history of Toussaint Louverture and the Slave Revolt of 1791 in the French Caribbean. The first and only successful slave revolt in history, it led to the abolition of slavery by the French revolutionaries in 1794. In 1802, however, slavery was reinstated by Napoleon. Toussaint was betrayed by his comrades and delivered to the Napoleonic regime to die in a French prison in 1803. Toussaint’s historical legacy is that he raised the important question: “are the universal human rights coming out of the Enlightenment and French Revolution truly universal?” – or, just white, male and European?

In early 1939 CLR James relocated to the USA and travelled to visit Trotsky in Mexico. Following the Stalin-Hitler Pact in 1939, Trotsky’s designation of the USSR as a degenerated workers’ state was disputed within the movement. Max Shachtman argued that it was bureaucratic-collectivist. By 1940 James had decided it was state-capitalist. Raya Dunayevskaya (1910-87), formerly Trotsky’s Russian language secretary in Mexico, came up with the same analysis as James, separately but at exactly the same time. Together they founded the Johnson-Forest Tendency within the US Workers Party, which had split from the Socialist Workers Party (US section of the Fourth International) months before Trotsky’s assassination (Joe Johnson was CLR James; Freddie Forest was Raya Dunayevskaya; the third leader of the tendency was Grace Lee – later Grace Lee Boggs, 1915-2015).

In 1947 the JFT rejoined the Socialist Workers Party moved to Detroit, partly because it had become the biggest and most multi-ethnic industrial city of the world, and partly to distance themselves from “petty-bourgeois opportunism” of the intellectuals and the Workers Party leaders in New York. The JFT’s four years in the SWP seems to have consolidated their base amongst miners and auto-workers, but as far as the SWP membership a whole went, their efforts seem to have been a debilitating waste of time. This unhappy relationship ended in 1951. The JFT left the SWP and founded the journal, Correspondence, in Detroit.

Just how far James and his comrades had moved from Trotskyism is evident from the correspondence between the leaders about things well beyond the ken or interest of the unhappy SWP. In 1948 James wrote Notes on Dialectics, a study of Hegel’s Science of Logic. This was a 250 page mimeographed document for internal discussion within the Johnson-Forest Tendency (it was eventually published in book form in Britain in 1980).

Hegel begins his 900-page masterpiece with the movement of philosophical categories: Being, Nothing and Becoming. In James’ interpretation if you determine that you and your experiences are something (like in “I think, therefore I am”), you are also determining that you and your experiences are not something else. Hegel’s Logic tells us – as an inescapable fact of life – that we come from nothing, but we are always trying to become something. This is true for us as individuals, from the day we are born; true for the development of philosophical Logic itself from the Ancient Greeks to the Enlightenment; and true for historical movements. Marx argues that the proletariat is revolutionary or it is nothing; and by negating capitalism it negates itself. It is this historical movement of the proletariat that James is primarily concerned with.

Greek democracy, forgotten under the Roman Empire and feudalism, returns at a new and higher level with the English Revolution of the 17th century. It is defeated, but it comes back: first with the American Revolution of 1776, then with the French Revolution of 1789. The French Revolution also gives birth to the idea of communism (Marx was quick to point that out that it was not he or Enge;s who invented it).

James brilliantly uses Hegel’s argument against Kantianism to expose the fixed determinations and categories of Trotskyism in its failure to understand the class nature of the USSR. The Johnson-Forest group argued that what made Stalinism in 1939 different to the 2nd International betrayers of 1914 could only be grasped by grounding the category of state-capitalism in the dialectic of Labour and Capital, as set out in the categories of Marx’s Capital. No wonder, James said, all of Trotsky’s predictions for World War turned out wrong. On the “Hegelian” aspect of Lenin’s State and Revolution James saw that Lenin propounded a new universal in calling for population “to a man” to run production and the state. As Hegel puts it, no doubt with the French Revolution in mind:

“When external actuality is altered by the activity of the objective notion and its determination therewith sublated, by that very fact the merely phenomenal reality, the external determinability and worthlessness, are removed from that actuality.

In Hegel’s terms the “objective notion” becomes the General Will that the potential of revolutionary change is actually more real thanthe merely phenomenal”. “The fact IS, BEFORE it exists.”

The point CLR James makes in 1948 is that both social democracy and the communist parties had become deadly enemies of the proletariat,  because they were both representations of capital. Social democracy represented a section of the proletariat – the skilled workers – who had been incorporated by monopoly capital; stalinism represented the petite bourgeois, technocratic new class of state capitalism. So, James argues that with the millions of workers organised into unions by European Stalinist parties (or, as in England and America, social democrats), there was nothing left to organise. James therefore counterposes spontaneous class struggle to organisation. The historic task of the workers movement had become how to negate the vanguard party. Spontaneous conscious actions by the masses, already organised in fighting form in their workplaces, would spill over into the surrounding communities and negate all the abstract universals that previous revolutions had thrown up.

After leaving the SWP, the Johnson-Forest Tendency published the journal, Correspondence, in Detroit, but in 1955 Raya Dunayevskaya and Black auto-worker, Charles Denby, broke away to found News and Letters and work on Dunayevskaya’s forthcoming book, Marxism and Freedom.

1958 saw the publication of the pamphlet, Facing Reality: The New Society and How to Bring it Closer, by CLR James and Grace Lee Boggs, with an introduction by Cornelius Castoriadis of the French group, Socialisme ou Barbarie group (see next post). Facing Reality threw out any concept of organized mediation in the world of class struggle:

“the organization will not seek to propagate it [socialism], nor to convince men of it, but to use it so as the more quickly and clearly to recognize how it is concretely expressed in the lives and struggles of the people.” Believing socialism to be “inherent in the masses,” the only role left for revolutionaries was to tell anyone who didn’t know it that this was so.

This perspective raised the question of the organisation’s “historic right” to exist. What was it?

2. Cornelius Castoriadis

[(Cornelius Castoriadis, Claude Lefort]

In 1960 Guy Debord joined Socialisme ou Barbarie, while retaining membership of the Situationist International, and remained a member for one year.[i]

Debord argued that the academic specialists had abandoned the “critical truth” of their disciplines to preserve their ideological function. And as, he believed, “real people” were going to come together to challenge the capitalist order, all “real researches” were “converging toward a totality.”[ii] These “real researches” could be found in “militant publications like Socialisme ou Barbarie in Paris and Correspondence in Detroit,” both of which had broken with Trotskyist vanguardism. Both groups had published “well-documented articles on workers’ continued resistance” to “the whole organization of work” and to their depoliticization and disaffection from unions which had become “a mechanism for integrating workers into the society as a supplementary weapon in the economic arsenal of bureaucratized capitalism.”[iii]

Socialisme ou Barbarie, published from 1949 to 1965, was founded by Cornelius Castoriadis and Claude Lefort. Correspondence, published from 1951 to 1962. In 1958, Castoriadis, using the pseudonym, “Pierre Chaulieu,” contributed to the book, Facing Reality, alongside  James and Grace Lee Boggs.[iv]

Castoriadis (1922-97) analyzed the implications for radical politics of developments in post-War capitalism. The “crisis” and “immiseration” predicted by “traditional” Marxism now appeared to have been forestalled. With full unemployment and an increasingly affluent workforce, Castoriadis saw the remaining contradictions of the system as the “alienation” of the worker from work and the division between management and the managed (significantly Castoriadis did not, as did Marx, conceptualize the division as between mental and manual labor).

Since Socialisme ou Barbarie believed that workers’ councils would be the organs for transition to a socialist society, there was a reassessment of the earlier “council communism” which had appeared during the German Revolution of 1918-19 and its aftermath. In 1952, the veteran Dutch council communist and astronomer, Anton Pannekoek (1873-1960), wrote to Castoriadis on the issue of workers’ councils and the “revolutionary party”: “While you limit the activity of these councils to the organization of work in the factories after the seizure of power by the workers, we consider them equally as being the means by which the workers will conquer this power.”[v]

Whereas Pannekoek held that the workers would decide for themselves on the organization of the new society once the power of the workers’ councils had been established, Castoriadis had drawn up a veritable blueprint for a new “system” of workers’ councils, with elections at the shop-floor level for a government of councils and a central assembly which would oversee a “planning factory” for coordinating and managing the economy at the national level.[vi]

This looked to Pannakoek like the party-building he was sceptical of. Pannekoek argued that for councilists to retain even the concept of a party – even a non-vanguardist party – was a “knotty contradiction.” Castoriadis, for his part, did not see the role of the revolutionary organization as constituting an external leadership to the working class. He believed revolutionary organization would be necessary to thwart the efforts of “Leninist” parties to “take-over” the autonomous bodies that would be set up by the workers. Castoriadis saw Socialisme ou Barbarie as building the revolutionary organization of the “avant-garde” minority of workers and intellectuals, whose role in the short term would be to protect the immediate interests of the workers. Although this organization would have to be “universal, minority, selective and centralized” -to such an extent that it could be perceived as Leninist – he believed that it could avoid degeneration into a bureaucracy because it would not repeat the fundamental division of management and managed, which the vanguard parties reflected in their theory and practice. The journal carried reports from workers describing the monotony and alienation they felt in their jobs, frequently expressing the view that they, the workers, could self-manage their workplaces much more efficiently and creatively than the existing managers.[vii]

The advent of the Hungarian workers’ councils in the Revolution of 1956 was seen by Castoriadis as an epoch-making anti-capitalist development. Mistakenly, however, he saw Soviet “bureaucratic state-capitalism,” with its highly integrated and centralized bureaucracy, as the “highest” stage of capitalism, and therefore ahead of its Western rivals in the domination of labor by capital – not to mention its ideological hold over workers’ organizations in the West. This position implied that successful revolution might be even more likely in the West, because of the contested democratic space that still existed in bourgeois democracies.

However, the events in Hungary did not develop the revolutionary tendencies of the French working class; rather they just eroded the authority and hegemony of the French Communist Party. The vote in the referendum of 1958 for De Gaulle’s Fifth Republic – ninety per cent in favor – shattered Castoriadis’ faith in the working class as a revolutionary force and led to a significant shift in Socialisme ou Barbarie towards covering struggles against alienation in the “superstructure” – especially in culture and education.[viii] But for the moment, the “industrial” work continued. In 1959 the journal Pouvoir Ouvrier was founded by Socialisme ou Barbarie to propagate the program for workers’ self-management based on the theories of Castoriadis, as well as to publish reports from workers on the shop floor. But the “knotty contradiction” of party-and-class identified by Pannekoek soon manifested itself. Claude Lefort (1924-2010) broke from the group in 1958 over what he saw as “a permanent contradiction between the theoretical character of the journal and its propagandistic claims.” In Lefort’s view, which was shared by Henri Simon (born 1922), Castoriadis’ position concealed a “radical fiction” posing as a conception of non-bureaucratic socialism, which in turn concealed both a “communitarian” desire for homogeneity and the inevitability of articulation by a small circle of intellectuals.[ix]

Another issue was raised by Raya Dunayevskaya in 1955. She admired the input of reports by workers in the journal:

“Heretofore socialists and other radicals have been content with publishing a paper ‘for’ workers rather than by them. The fact that some now pose the latter question, and pose it with the seriousness characteristic of the theoretical journal, is a beginning.”

She added however, that to say, “A workers’ paper, yes, but in that case it must come from the workers themselves, and not from us the theoreticians,” was an evasion of the task at hand: “theoreticians cannot be bystanders to a paper that mirrors the workers’ thoughts and activities as they happen.”[x] In 1961, Eugene Gogol of Dunayevskaya’s News and Letters Committees attended a Socialisme ou Barbarie conference in France as an observer and engaged with Castoriadis in discussion of Marx’s 1844 Philosophic Notebooks, the first English translation of which had been published in Dunayevskaya’s book Marxism and Freedom in 1958 as an appendix. Castoriadis argued that Marx’s 1844 writings had “no bearing on Marxian thought after Marx because they were not published until 1920,” and that their philosophic nature made them irrelevant to the question of alienation in modern production.[xi]

After Debord broke from Castoriadis in 1961, the journal International Situationist warned that Socialisme ou Barbarie ran the risk of “providing an ideological cover for a harmonization of the present production system in the direction of greater efficiency and profitability without at all having called in question the experience of this production or the necessity of this kind of life.”[xii] A few issues later (in 1963), the critique continued:

these groups, rightly opposing the increasingly thorough reification of human labor and its modern corollary, the passive consumption of a leisure activity manipulated by the ruling class, often end up unconsciously harboring a sort of nostalgia for earlier forms of work, for the truly ‘human’ relationships that were able to flourish in the societies of the past or even during the less developed phases of industrial society. As it happens, this attitude fits in quite well with the system’s efforts to obtain a higher yield from existing production by doing away with both the waste and the inhumanity that characterize modern industry.[xiii]

In Socialisme ou Barbarie’s first manifesto of 1949, Castoriadis had insisted that Marxism was “beyond question.” But in the course of the 1950s he developed the view that Marxism was the ideology of an earlier, “market” and “production” stage of capitalism, and that in the modern bureaucratic world, Marx’s Capital, for the most part, was no longer relevant. Castoriadis argued that, with the aid of the state, continual expansion of capitalism could take place unimpeded. In the age of state-capitalism and bureaucracy, a new “ideology” was necessary for the new movement towards a system of workers-self management. Castoriadis himself concluded that Marxism was a “pseudo-scientific” “obfuscation” of nineteenth-century class struggles, which had themselves “allowed the system to function and survive.”[xiv]

By the late 1960s the Situationists were attacking what they saw as Castoriadis’ “unmistakable progress towards revolutionary nothingness, his swallowing of every kind of academic fashion and his ending up becoming indistinguishable from any ordinary sociologist.”[xv]

3. Guy Debord

Anselm Jappe, in his book, Guy Debord, argues that, “Debord’s theory is in essence the continuation of the work of Marx and Hegel and that its importance inheres for the most part precisely in this fact” [emphasis in the original].

According to Hegel, the application of abstract principles in law and economics was a further negation of the organic unity of life he saw as having once existed in Greek Antiquity. The unity of subject and object expressed in the art of Greek Antiquity had become impossible for a society in which, according to Hegel, the “lower world” of economic nature (once vested in the “family” or “household”) promoted a “bestial contempt for all higher values.” All sense of the divine had been tossed into the world of “superstition” and “entertainment,”[i] the temple reduced to “logs and stones” and “the sacred grove to mere timber.”[ii]

What then was left for art? Hegel said that “as regards its highest vocation, art is and remains for us something past. For us it has lost its genuine truth and vitality; it has been displaced into the realm of ideas.”

Hegel did not doubt that works of art would continue to be produced and that artists would strive for perfection with new imaginative techniques. In modernity. however, what is aroused in us by art beyond immediate enjoyment is “the judgment that submits the content and medium of representation of art to reflective consideration… For this reason, the science of art is a far more important requirement in our own age than it was in earlier times when art simply as art could provide complete satisfaction.”[iii]

In 1967, Guy Debord wrote in the Society of the Spectacle that the defeat of the social revolutions following the First World War had left the Surrealists and the Dadaists “imprisoned in the same artistic field whose decrepitude they had denounced.” Furthermore, Surrealism had mistakenly put itself “au service” of a revolution in Russia which had already been lost. Whereas “Dadaism had tried to repress art without realising it; Surrealism wanted to realise art without suppressing it.” What was necessary, in Debord’s view, was to project suppression and realization as “inseparable aspects of a single supersession of art.”[iv]

[Top: Jacques-Louis David. Below Rene Magritte]

In July 1957, at a conference in Cosio d’Arroscia, Italy, the Situationist International was founded. Those attending were: from France, Guy Debord and Michèle Bernstein of the Letterist International; from England, the painter Ralph Rumney; from Denmark, the painter Asger Jorn; and from Italy, Guiseppe Pinot Gallizio, the formulator of “industrial painting,” Walter Olmo, experimental musician, and Piero Simondo and Elena Verrone of the International Movement for an Imaginist Bauhaus.

Debord argued in his Report on the Construction of Situations and the Prerequisites for the Organization and Action of the International Situationist Tendency that “the problems of cultural creation can now be solved only in conjunction with a new advance in world revolution.” In order to combat the passive consumption that defined spectacular culture, Debord called for the international to organize collectively towards utilizing all of the means of revolutionizing everyday life, “even artistic ones.”

We need to construct new ambiances that will be both the products and the instruments of new forms of behavior. To do this, we must from the beginning make practical use of the everyday processes and cultural forms that now exist, while refusing to acknowledge any inherent value they may claim to have… We should not simply refuse modern culture; we must seize it in order to negate it. No one can claim to be a revolutionary intellectual who does not recognize the cultural revolution we are now facing…[v]

Although any genuinely experimental attitude based on critique and supersession of existing conditions was usable, production of artistic forms was seen as a dead end, leading at best to recuperation and commodification within the spectacle:

It must be understood once and for all that something that is only a personal expression within a framework created by others cannot be termed a creation. Creation is not the arrangement of objects and forms, it is the invention of new laws on such arrangement.[vi]

Debord said in 1961 at Henri Lefebvre’s Group for Research on Everyday Life:

the critique and perpetual re-creation of the totality of everyday life, before being carried out naturally by all people, must be undertaken in the present conditions of oppression in order to destroy these conditions. An avant-garde cultural movement, even one with revolutionary sympathies, cannot accomplish this. Neither can a revolutionary party on the traditional model, even if it accords a large place to criticism of culture… The revolutionary transformation… will mark the end of all unilateral artistic expression stocked in the form of commodities, and at the same time the end of all specialized politics.[vii]

Georg Lukács’ History and Class Consciouness (1923) saw in the reformism of social democracy a retreat from Hegel and Marx to Kant. Before Hegel and the French Revolution, the rationalists had treated objectivity as independent of, and separate from, the thinking subject; and for Kant, the object was knowable only in how it appeared to the subjective mind, not as the thing-in-itself. In Hegel’s concept of totality this duality in the process of knowledge is resolved by eliminating the autonomy of both the objects and their concepts. The power of the totality is expressed in Lukács’ statement that “the chapter in Marx’s Capital dealing with the fetish character of the commodity contains within itself the whole of historical materialism.”[viii] In Capital Marx shows how the value-form which labor assumes depends on the reduction of the concrete labor to abstract labor, which takes place in the production of commodities through the medium of socially necessary labor time.

The Society of the Spectacle argues that the spectacle does not falsify reality merely in an ideological sense, along the lines of the economic base producing false consciousness in the superstructure; nor does the spectacle constitute itself abstractly as a force external to the concrete social activity of individuals. Rather, the spectacle-commodity and reality each transform themselves into their opposites. The spectacle is a real product of that reality; and “real life,” in its subjective passivity, absorbs its own objectified falsification. Their reciprocal alienation is the ground and essence of spectacular capitalism, in which the world is turned upside down:

The spectacle is able to subject human beings to itself because the economy has already totally subjugated them. It is nothing other than the economy developing for itself. It is at once a faithful reflection of the production of things and a distorting objectification of the producers.[ix]

Where then, does this leave proletarian class consciousness? Lukács, in his 1923 essay, ‘Reification and the Consciousness of the Proletariat’, argues that work, as a social-metabolic process, is reified and fragmented in a such a way as to make people incapable of recognizing the world beyond their own particular tasksas being of their own making. People are thus rendered passive and contemplative, no matter how “busy” they are.[x] Against the fragmenting yet totalizing power of the commodity Lukács dialectically juxtaposes the particular commodity that production is based on: labor-power. Since labor-power cannot be separated from the laborer, then any real self-consciousness on the laborer’s part of that relationship can be “ascribed” as revolutionary. Lukács thus postulates a “subject-object identity” constituted by the class that “wakes up” to mass revolutionary consciousness.

Lukács, however, is well aware of the gap between the “ascribed” revolutionary consciousness and the actually existing reformist/false consciousness. Reification, as the “necessary, immediate reality of every person living in capitalist society,” can be overcome only by “constant and constantly renewed efforts to disrupt the reified structure of existence” and by relating the “concretely manifested contradictions” to the totality of development, and becoming conscious of the immanent meanings of these contradictions in their totality.[xi]

Debord, taking up this problem of the passive and contemplative nature of everyday life under capitalism, sees the leisure industry, with its Club Med holidays, mass sports events, television and movies, as much more than mere distraction. In “consumable pseudo-cyclical time” the commodified moments of leisure are explicitly presented as moments in the cyclical return of real life, but all that is really happening is the spectacle reproducing itself at a higher level of intensity: “The moments within cyclical time when members of a community joined together in a luxurious expenditure of life are impossible for a society that lacks both community and luxury.”[xii]

Debord argues that because the spectacle attempts to establish an illusory unity over the fragmentation and separation, any real proletarian subjectivity cannot confine itself to concerns over egalitarian distribution of wealth; it must be total itself. The real social contradiction is between those who are at home in alienation – or at least feel obliged to maintain it – and those who would abolish it. The coming revolution would require a complete break with vanguardism as well as anarcho-councilism.[xiii]

As Debord puts it in Society of the Spectacle, Lukács claimed that the Bolshevik form of organization “was the long sought mediation between theory and practice, in which proletarians are no longer spectators of the events which happen in their organization, but consciously choose and live these events.” The trouble was, “he was actually describing as merits of the Bolshevik party everything that the Bolshevik party was not.”[xiv]

The Situationists’ grasp of the difference between class consciousness in-itself and in-and-for-itself was at the root of their polemical attacks on the bureaucratic practices in the workers’ movement and the fragmented, contemplative ideas of sociologizing intellectuals. Situationist writings suggested that workers could reach revolutionary conclusions among themselves and that the Situationist International saw no responsibility for helping this process along, unless approached by the workers’ councils themselves for assistance.

Debord thought that the French revolt of May/June 1968, soon to be followed by the “Hot Autumn” of Italy in 1969, heralded “the beginning of a new era,”[xv] But he had no intention of building a new political party, either on a national or international basis, that would become, like others past and present, yet another “representation” of the real struggle. The Situationists, as les enfants perdus, had no further missions to fulfill in the organizational form they had upheld for the previous fourteen years, and nowhere to return to. In 1972, after a final round of resignations and expulsions, which left Debord and the Italian, Gianfranco Sanguinetti, as the only two remaining members, the Situationist International was dissolved at Debord’s behest.

Twenty years after the May Events of 1968, in his 1988 Comments on the Society of the Spectacle, Debord identified the dilemma facing the Left well before the fall of the Berlin Wall and the apparent victory of neoliberalism:

the coherence of the society of the spectacle proves revolutionaries right, since it has become clear that one cannot reform the poorest detail without taking the whole thing apart. But, at the same time, this coherence has suppressed every organized revolutionary tendency by suppressing the social terrains where they had more or less expressed themselves: from trade unions to newspapers, towns to books. In the same movement, one has highlighted the incompetence and thoughtlessness of which this tendency was quite naturally the bearer.[xvi]

In 1967, Debord had noted the ever-increasing size of the working class and the impending proletarianization of the entire workforce. But in the Comments of 1988, Debord, as Jappe puts it, “reversed the terms of this proposition”: the conditions of the middle classes had become proletarianized in their separation and lack of power but, as they lacked class consciousness, they had negated the power of the proletariat as a force irreconcilable with capital, by absorbing it. In late-Debord thought, the early-Lukács’ formulation of a structure of reified consciousness evolves into that of the “integrated spectacle.”

Debord’s “pessimistic” Comments of 1988 should be seen in relation to his original theorizing of the spectacle and the forces resisting it. In distancing the Situationists from both the vanguardist and spontaneist positions, the Society of the Spectacle argued the revolution “requires” workers to become dialecticians:

Proletarian revolution depends entirely on the condition that, for the first time, theory as intelligence of human practice be recognized and lived by the masses. It requires workers to become dialecticians and to inscribe their thought into practice. Thus it demands of men without qualification more than the bourgeois revolution demanded of the qualified men which it delegated to carry out its tasks (since the partial ideological consciousness constructed by a part of the bourgeois class was based on the economy, that central part of social life in which this class was already in power). The very development of class society to the stage of spectacular organization of non-life thus leads the revolutionary project to become visibly what it already was essentially.[xvii]

The idea that the organized working class would become “visibly what it already was essentially” bears a similarity to C.L.R. James’ position on the British shop stewards organizations in the 1950s as representing the “future in the present.”[xviii] Debord’s reflections about the importance of theory being lived by the masses and the workers becoming “dialecticians” bears more than a passing resemblance to (if not a subtle détournement of) Dunayevskaya’s portrayal in Marxism and Freedom (1958) of Black civil rights activists, women, rank-and-file workers and youth as a movement from practice which was itself a form of theory, demanding the engagement from intellectuals she saw lacking in Castoriadias:

The task that confronts our age, it appears to this writer, is, first, to recognize that there is a movement from practice — from the actual struggles of the day — to theory; and, second, to work out the method whereby the movement from theory can meet it…. Far from being intellectual abdication, this is the beginning of a new stage of cognition. This new stage in the self-liberation of the intellectual from dogmatism can begin only when, as Hegel put it, the intellectual feels the “compulsion of thought to proceed to… concrete truths.”[xix]

[The above section is an abridged extract from The Philosophical Roots of Anti-Capitalism: Essays on History, Culture and Dialectical Thought by David Black (Lexington 2013)]

4. Raya Dunayevskaya

[Diego Rivera, Raya Dunayevskaya, Leon Trotsky]

In 1914 the parties of the Second International were committed to mobilising the international workers movement to prevent war between rival imperialist powers; ,when the Guns of August sounded, socialist and trade union leaders fell into line. When Lenin, then exiled in Geneva, received a telegram telling him that German Social Democracy had voted in the Reichstag for war credits, his first reaction was to dismiss it as a forgery.

Rosa Luxemburg was not so surprised. The “Pope of Marxism”, Karl Kautsky, had long argued that the German working class should subordinate its autonomy to a reformist strategy in which the centralized bureaucracy of the bourgeois state was to be a conciousnesss-forming tool of “progress”. Kautsky, having ruled out the tacticof the Mass Strike, failed to address how the socialists might educate and assimilate those non-proletarian forces that could be won over. In Germany the failure to do so installed the germ of defeat that later led to counter-revolution and the eventual triumph of fascism.

In Luxemburg’s critique of reformism, Gillian Rose in The Broken Middle sees a notion of transcendence: that the proletariat could only exercise its revolutionary will if it went “outside” and “beyond” the existing society. This wasn’t so much utopianism, as the recognition of an “aporia”: a state of being, caught in the schism between theory and practice, which was resistant to a priori logic and determination – as formulated by Kant – even though it lacked any discernable path of transcendence. In Greek Antiquity, Poros, the god of plenty and resourcefulness meets Penia, the child of poverty and powerlessness; and after drinking too much, is seduced by her. Their child is Eros, who inherits the “nature” of both parents, and lives in a state of aporia. The word aporia is the privative of the word porus, which refers to a ford or ferry crossing point in a river. So aporia is an impasse, in which the navigator may be faced with danger and uncertainty of success. In the concrete terms which Rose assigns to Luxemburg, the resolution of the aporia would require the difficult union of the daily struggle and “the great world transformation”. This new movement would have to grope along the path between the revolutionary Scylla of abandoning the mass character of the social democratic party and the reformist Charybdis of abandoning the goal of socialist transformation.

In the 1960s, the anti-Vietnam War movement, which created a whole new generation of radical youth, had its organisational origins in the civil rights movement. In 1970 a young Left activist corresponded with Raya Dunayevskaya (1910-87) on the question of the counterculture: “The movement is now not primarily in the factory; the consciousness is not there nearly so much as in the rock-drug culture.” Dunayevskaya’s reply points out that the workers didn’t respond well to middle-class leftists telling them what they should do – whether agitation for a “general strike now!” or whatever. And the fact that workers were unipressed by leftist arguments  – did not necessarily mean they were only concerned with “bread and butter” issues and incapable of transcending trade-union consciousness. Although Dunayevskaya doesn’t, as does Gillian Rose, employ the term “aporia”, she appears to recognise it historically in relating the New Left to German Social Democracy:

“Do you know that the Kaiser was the only one who knew something that Lenin did not know, that he need not fear the Second International’s opposition to the first world holocaust he was going to unleash because the socialists were so elitist, lived so much by themselves, had their rituals for everything from marriage as ‘against’ the bourgeois type, to naming of their children by revolutionary instead of biblical names, that they has no contact with the unorganised ‘backward’ masses and this isolation ensured capitulation.”

German Social Democracy was a massive movement, but that didn’t make it the party of the masses. In effect, it became a massive sect, a sort of secular religion, preaching to the masses without actually engaging with them. Of course Germany Social Democracy “favoured” the replacement of the Kaiser’s monarchy with a democratic republic, but when it came to elections what figured were the “bread and butter” issues. Rosa Luxemburg argued that holding on to the call for a republic was a principle that trumped the ephemeral short-termism of persuading monarchists to vote socialist, which would have the dire consequences in eventually unleashing fascism.

Quite separate from the industrial proletariat of the 1960s was the Woodstock “nation.” Dunayevskaya conceded that this counterculture was “certainly a superior phenomenon to the Establishment.” After all, the counterculture bespoke of the duality of the existing society and the “two worlds within the existing structure that undermine it.” But counterculture wasn’t the Revolution. And objectively, self-appointed ‘People’s War’ factions – such as the Weather Underground, and other groups, influenced by Maoism, who believed that power came out the barrel of a gun and that a prairie fire could be started by a single spark – weren’t revolutionary. Against their “violent spouting,” she argued,

“…the forces of the new, the combatants, culturally as well as in a class sense, are lined up for the life and death struggle long before they are ‘armed’. Does that make the ones who are ‘armed’ the revolutionaries? Even though their chaotic acts lead to the tragic blowing up of themselves, and even though it gives the Nixon­Agnew terrorists the excuse to conduct their preventive civil war before the objective situation and the subjective forces have coalesced to assure the victory of the social revolution.”

The problem was philosophical:

“…to think that activity is only ‘doing’, irrespective of the underlying philosophy, is not only as one-sided as the ivory-tower type of thinking, but is precisely what the establishment, the power structure…. are counting on us as doing… We, thereby, prove only one thing. We are as organically part of this society we were supposed to be uprooting as the society itself is, because we are operating within its pragmatic, philosophic structure”

Dunayevskaya was not enthusiastic about the new utopian hippie communes, which were set up in separation from the rest of society. Again, that was “precisely what capitalism does want. That is to say, to break up the various revolutionary forces the revolutionary forces from ever finding each other.” She traced the problem back to the times of the Abolitionists and Transcendentalists.

“So-called communal living is not new in America and is the very opposite of the Paris Commune ‘storming the heavens’… the American intellectuals were inspired by the utopian socialists to build their ‘communes’ at the very moment when the Abolitionists were trying to show them that association with the blacks is the only ‘transcendental’ gesture that meets the challenge of the times. Whether or not you would like to look into that period with Abolitionists’ eyes, or only with eyes of today and as a poet. I would very much like to see a review by you of Hawthorne’s Blithendale Romance.’

Sadly, the review never appeared and I have been unable to trace the identity of Dunayevskaya’s correspondent.

ENDNOTES TO pt 3

[i] Vincent Kaufman, Guy Debord: Revolution in the Service of Poetry (University of Minnesota Press: 2006) p. 171.

[ii] Debord, “Perspectives for Conscious Alterations in Everyday Life,” International Situationist, No. 6, S.I. Anthology, pp. 68-74.

[iii] “The Bad Days Will End” (editorial), International Situationist, No. 7. S.I. Anthology, p. 82.

[iv] C.L.R. James, Grace C. Lee, and Pierre Chaulieu (Cornelius Castoriadis), Facing Reality: The New Society, Where to Look for It, How to Bring it Closer (Detroit: Bewick, 1974), pp. 34-39; Cornelius Castoriadis, “C.L.R. James and the Fate of Marxism,” in C.L.R. James, His Intellectual Legacies, eds. S.R. Cudjoe and W.E. Cain (Massachusetts University Press: 1995), pp. 277-97. After 1958 there was no further contact between Castoriadis and James. According to Cudjoe and Cain, Castoriadis was angered because “James published ‘Facing Reality’ without fully working out the ideas contained in the pamphlet and without having Castoriadis’ final approval to publish his section in the pamphlet.”

[v] Pannekoek, Anton. “Discussion sur le probleme du parti révolutionnaire,” Socialisme ou Barbarie, July-August 1952. www.marxists.org/archive/pannekoe/1953/socialisme-ou-barbarisme.htm

[vi] Richard Gombin, The Origins of Modern Leftism (London: Penguin 1975), p. 98; P. Chaulieu, “Sur le contenu du socialisme,” in Socialisme ou Barbarie (July-September 1957).

[vii] Gombin, Origins of Modern Leftism, pp. 99-100; P. Chaulieu [Castoriadis],  “Discussion sur le probleme du parti révolutionnaire.” Socialisme ou Barbarie (July-August 1952); P. Chaulieu, “Réponse au camarade Pannekoek,” Socialisme ou Barbarie (April-June 1954).

[viii] Arthur Hirsch , The French Left (Montreal: Black Rose 1982), pp. 108-31.

[ix] Claude Lefort, “Interview.” Telos, No. 30 (1976).

[x] Raya Dunayevskaya, “A Response to Castoriadis’s Socialism or Barbarism” (1955), reprinted in News and Letters, Oct-Nov 2007.

[xi] “Letter from Eugene Gogol,” News and Letters Bulletin, August 1961.

[xii] Debord, “Instructions For Taking Up Arms,” International Situationist, No. 6. S.I. Anthology, p. 64.

[xiii] “Ideologies, Classes and the Domination of Nature,” editorial, International Situationist, No. 8. S.I. Anthology, p. 102.

[xiv] Cornelius Castoriadis, “On the History of the Workers Movement,” Telos, No. 30, 1976.

[xv] “Lire ICO” (editorial), International Situationist, No. 11. S.I. Anthology, p. 372.

 

Gillian Rose Against the Holy Middle

Remembering Britain’s Greatest Post-War Philosopher

By David Black

Maya Krishnan, in an article for The Point (‘The Risk of the Universal’, 3 June 2024). has contributed a substantial and readable introduction the writings of Gillian Rose (1947-1995).

Gillian Rose said that the collapse of state-socialism couldn’t kill Marxism, because ‘all the antinomies of modern state and society addressed since Hobbes, Smith and Rousseau, have been reopened.’ Furthermore, the antinomies raised the question of the ‘connection’ between liberalism and fascism, which might have seemed otiose in the 1990s, but certainly doesn’t now.

Rose recalls the words of the young Marx, writing in On the Jewish Question,

‘,,,the perfection of the idealism of the state is at the same time the perfection of the materialism of civil society. The shaking-off of the political yoke was at the same time the shaking-off of the bonds which had held in check the egoistic spirit of civil society. Political emancipation was, at the same time, the emancipation of civil society from politics, from even the appearance of a universal content.’

In Rose’s interpretation, Marx here exposes the ‘breaking of the middle’. In the pre-capitalist world, the guilds, statuses and privileges which determined the rights and duties of individuals, formed the legal estate in the ‘middle’ of the old feudal order. With the sweeping away of these institutions, the post-feudal individual is ‘naturalized as “egoism” and allegorized as “ethical”.’

Following the post-Hegelian ‘disasters of modernity’ – stalinism, nazi-ism and imperialism – we see the post-modern attempt to bypass the dichotomies by dismissing the whole Enlightenment project – and rational critique generally – as implicated in power relations.

Foucault’s monolithic concept of ‘power’ conflates actual power and knowledge in a way that ‘underwrites the Nietzschian drive toward a nihilist abandonment of reason itself’. Philosophic truth-claims are seen as ‘mere by-products of the will-to-power vested in figural language.’ In the ‘linguistic turn’ of post-modernism, rhetoric is privileged over reason: concepts and categories are entirely determined by the various signifying codes and systems that make up a given ‘discourse’. In Krishnan’s view, Rose’s critique of post-structuralism, in The Dialectic of Nihilism exposes ‘a kind of tantrum in which thinkers misdirect their anger over an irrational society by lashing out at rationality itself.’

As Krishnan suggests, the problem with the ‘Peoples of the Book’ – Jews, Moslems and Christians – isn’t so much that they have to negotiate between their ethics and the ‘voice of authority’ which issued the ‘god-given’ order: ‘go and smite Amalek’:

‘Where we go wrong, on Rose’s view, is not by accepting the wrong kind of authority; it’s rather by demanding the wrong kind of security. The risk of becoming a perpetrator of violence isn’t special to traditional authority. Rather, it is the risk of politics itself.’

What Rose calls the ‘fantasy of mending the world’ is the realm of the ‘Holy Middle’, in which it is imagined that following a set of principles will guarantee security. In the Middle discourse and principles displace political action of the universalist kind, because the latter has had violent consequences. Hence, post-politics is imagined to be risk-free, not just as regards personal safety, but also from the guilt of complicity in the violence of the system.

The political implications are summed up by Krishnan as follows:

‘None, then, are without sin. But the Rosean leftist traditionalist can say more than that. A capacity to appreciate forms of value caught up in compromised histories has particular relevance to the leftist, whose uniquely demanding vision of a transformed world is susceptible to giving way to a uniquely dispirited outlook. Living with disappointment over the political history of one’s ideals is a key aspect of Rose’s account of the “broken middle” and of her philosophy of mourning, which is not a counsel of resignation but rather its opposite. By giving up faulty conceptions of our ability to distance ourselves from risk and violence, Rose thinks we regain the political aspirations that the “nihilist” abandons.’

Rose takes off from Hegel’s understanding of modernity not as factor of unification, but of diremption, or division. According to Rose in Hegel Contra Sociology, ‘Hegel’s philosophy has no social import if the Absolute cannot be thought.’ Inasmuch as Marx’s philosophy does have social import – i.e. if the new society (the absolute) is immanent in the actuality of everyday life – it must also be thought. However, Rose continues,

‘A society’s relation to nature, to transformative activity determines its political and property relations, its concept of law, and its subjective or natural consciousness… as long as these relations and law prevails the absolute can only be thought by an abstract consciousness…’

The domination of abstract consciousness in commodity production is underwritten by the predominance of abstract labour. The problem of inversion is tackled in Marx’s Capital:

‘The theory of commodity fetishism is the most speculative moment in Marx’s exposition of capital. It comes nearest to demonstrating in the historically specific case of commodity-producing society how substance is (mis-)represented as subject, how necessary illusion arises out of productive activity.’

In Hegel’s Phenomenology of Spirit, the history of reason’s determinations and self-(mis)understandings, begins with natural consciousness. Eventually, reason recognises that all along reason has been trying to know itself, rather than an external object. In modernity what Rose calls ‘aberrated mourning’ is the failure to recognise that what we have been mourning  is our own fantasies of mending the world. What Rose calls ‘inaugurated mourning’ would recognise the potential for challenging the abstract rationalism of bourgeois society, for which any traditional social forms either have to be destroyed or taken over (or recuperated) to render them relatively harmless. I say relatively, because traditional forms harbour their own fantasies of mending the world, and their own denials and evasions of the past.

Krishnan points out that Alisdair MacIntyre (another British philosopher) sees ‘tradition’ similarly to Rose. For MacIntyre,

‘… there is no such thing as a nontraditional form of life: everyone winds up embracing at least one tradition, whether they realize it or not. Even the modern liberal who self-defines against “the tyranny of tradition” has in fact merely given themselves over to one more tradition, with its own historically transmitted and locally specific forms of activity, its own canon, its own “contingency and particularity.” Tradition is the ground on which everyone stands, Marxist and monk alike. The concomitant risk of complicity in tradition’s tyrannies is therefore everyone’s problem.’

‘I may die before my time’, wrote Rose in one of her last lectures before she died, aged 47 in 1995 from ovarian cancer. Maya Krishnan summarizes:

‘In her writing on what is at once broken and bountiful, she wrote for an age whose difficulty might finally prepare readers to receive her intensities. Rose knew that she would die before her time; she also knew that her time would come.’

Penguin Classics have published a new edition of Love’s Work, an unfinished illness narrative which contains Gillian Rose’s reflections on life, death and personal relationships, all delivered with wry humour combined with deadly seriousness. Later this year, Verso will bring out a perviously unpublished a transcription of Rose’s lectures from 1979 entitled Marxist Modernism.

This artcle was first oublished on Substack

 

Tragedy, Philosophy and Money – A Warning from Greek Antiquity

By David Black

Richard Seaford, who died a few months ago, was one of Britain’s most celebrated classicist scholars, specializing in studies of Greek Antiquity.  His most important book – one of several – is Money and the Early Greek Mind: Homer, Tragedy, and Philosophy (Cambridge University Press, 2004).

Seaford was not the first Marxist to analyze the relationship between the advent of monetization and Greek philosophy. Alfred Sohn-Rethel (1899-1990) located the objective origin of abstract thought in the social nexus of relations behind the exchange of traded goods. Sohn-Rethel’s co-thinker, George Thomson (1903-87), located this origin in the spread of gold and silver coinage in Greek Antiquity. For the first time in history, the cosmology of pure abstractions (the One, the Many, Being, Becoming, etc.) appears in the pre-Socratic thought of Parmenides (the philosopher of Being, who thought change was an illusion) and Heraclitus (the philosopher of Becoming, for whom change through strife was everything). Sohn-Rethel saw Parmenides as the first exponent of ‘pure thought’ to emerge with ‘a concept fitting the description of the abstract material of money.’

Sohn-Rethel pays almost no attention to Heraclitus. But according to Seaford, the opposition between Heraclitus and Parmenides can be seen as expression of the opposition between money as the communal logos of circulation and money as the abstract oneness of value detached from circulation.

If money produces philosophy, what produces money?

Greek metaphysics developed under the influence, not only of money, but also of the social forms and practices which preceded monetized society; therefore, money can be understood as the diremption and subsumption of the ancient communal principle of (re)distribution.

In the Greeks’ religious sanctuaries – which were the ‘soul’ of the state – animals are sacrificed to the gods. In the feast that follows the ritual the roasted meat is distributed equally, according the principle of Moira, the goddess who presides over the allocations of land within the community. Coined money originates with the accumulation in these religious sanctuaries of metal objects associated with animal sacrifice and feasting, such as iron roasting spits, tripod cauldrons, figurines made of precious metals and bars of bullion. As befitting the temple, eventually the metals are graded according to value (as gold, silver, or base metals), then coined and stamped with the figure of the deity.  Some of the sanctuaries begin to function as banks.

In the philosophy of Aristotle, money is seen as having no value in itself, except as a  convention mediating things that do have value.  However, because of this convention, the metal substance is transformed by the state-approved ensignia into something greater than its intrinsic value.  This was a factor in a conceptual transformation, based on the new collective trust of the polis,(city state).

What is new in Greek philosophy is the idea of the universe as, in Seaford’s words, ’an intelligible order subject to the uniformity of impersonal power’, and  of a single substance underlying the plurality of sensuous experience. For the first time in history an impersonal all-powerful substance enters into the philosopher’s cosmic preconceptions, as when Heraclitus says ‘all things are in exchange for fire and fire for all things like goods for gold  and gold for goods.’

Monetisation, in marginalizing reciprocity and actualizing inequality, allows individual autonomy to appear in the figure of the tyrant. But the tyrant’s individual monetary  power depends on the general , socially constructed acceptance of the value of the money and its ability to circulate beyond his control.

The reason we see Greeks poetry and philosophy as much less alien to us than the culture of Egypt and Mesopotamia is because of the presence of monetization that we share with the Greeks.

In Aeschylus’ Agamemnon, Clytemnestra plots to kill her husband in revenge for his sacrifice of their daughter, Iphigenia. When Agamemnon returns from the wars he presents Clytemnestra with some expensive linen, which she urges him to trample on as a measure of his god-like status. Seaford sees the linen as representing the unlimited wealth of the sea trade, which gives Agamemnon the illusion, encouraged by Clytemnestra. that he is a god freed from material needs. Later, wrapped up in his expensive linen, he is murdered by his avenging wife for transgressing ‘family values’.

In Sophocles’ Antigone the tyrant Creon, who regards the polis as his own property, projects the corrupting power of money amongr his enemies.  Creon, however, actually himself projects the world of money, with his individualistic self-sufficency and drive to homogenize everything under his rule. Creon perverts the death-ritual of the ‘old’ world, by denying Antigone’s rebel brother Polyneices a decent burial’ and perverts marriage-rite  by entombing Antigone in what the chorus calls a ‘bridal chamber’. After  Antigone’s death brings about the suicide of Creon’s son Haemon, followed by his Queen, Eurydice, the chorus invokes Dionysus to cleanse the curse from the city.  Seaford develops this hypothesis in relating the illusion of autonomous  self-sufficiency illusion to the crime of incest. In Oedipus Tyrranus when Teiresius tell Oedipus he has committed patricide and incest, the tyrant accuses the seer of having been ‘bought’:  ‘Endogomy in Athens and elsewhere, preserved wealth within the family. In tragedy endogamy is associated with blindness, darkness… ‘.

The new society demands the-circulation  of money and females; the endogenous household of the Theban tyrants hoards money and imprisons its female kin below ground. Moreover, Seaford points out, money, like the female, may reproduce. Payment of interest seems to have developed out of the practice of reciprocating a gift with a more valuable one, except that money seems to produce more of itself.  Aristotle characterizes usury as incest, because interest transgresses the role of currency as a means for exchange, and is thus the most ’ unnatural’ mode of acquisition.

The unlimited monetized power of the tyrants is condemned by Aristotle, who says that the free man ruling over his oikos is only self-sufficient to the extent that he is part of the self-sufficient polis; for unity to prevail, in the face of the unlimited power of money and greed, the polis must limit itself in terms of its size, population and class inequalities. For Aristotle, acquisition of wealth within the oikos (the slave-owning household) was ‘natural’, whereas commerce had to do with ‘production of goods, not in the full sense but through their exchange’. The wealth derived from this latter form of acquisition he saw as “unnatural” and “without limit.” Its unlimited nature did not suit the order of the polis.

The modern era has so much internalized the ‘metaphysics of money’ as to imagine that money, like the weather is a force of nature rather than a social relation. Nevertheless, according to Seaford, it is hard to shake off ‘a lingering sense of arbitrariness of there being something indefinably unsatisfying… about the individual reification of money and injustice and alienation thereby produced. For those with sense, historical understanding of the relative recent (on the scale of human history) transition from premonetary to monetary society may be of particular interest.’

FURTHER READING

David Black,The Philosophical Roots of Anti-Capitalism:Essays on History, Culture and Dialectical Thought(Lexington:2013)

Richard Seaford, Money and the Early Greek Mind: Homer, Philosophy, Tragedy (Cambridge University Press: 2004)

Alfred Sohn-Rethel, Intellectual and Manual Labor: A Critique of Epistemology (London: Macmillan, 1976)

George Thomson, The First Philosophers: Studies in Ancient Greek Society (London: Lawrence and Wishart, 1955)

Culture Wars in the Spiritual Animal Kingdom

By David Black

From Culture to Cultures

Where does culture come from?’ is the question posed by Terry Eagleton in a piece for the London Review of Books (25 April 2024) As Eagleton explains, in trying to make sense of today’s ‘culture wars’:

’One of the original meanings of the word culture is the tending of natural growth, which is to say agriculture, and a cognate word, coulter, means the blade of a plough’.

However, since the Industrial Revolution kicked off in the 18th century, ‘Culture’ has tended to disavow its own origins. For Romanticism, the new art of Goethe, Beethoven and the like was autonomous and self-determining. But, as this ‘culture’ was born of material production in a class-divided society racked by conflict, culture developed a tendency to become ideology useful for legitimizing the social order and resolving endemic conflict.

In pre-modern (feudal) societies the position of ‘cultural workers’, such as ‘court poets, genealogists, licensed fools, painters and architects’ depended on the patronage of princes and the ennobled landed gentry. But with the growth of capitalism and impact of the  French Revolution the floodgate opened for cultural resistance to the old order:

‘This resistance is more likely to occur, curiously enough, once art becomes just another commodity in the marketplace and the artist just another petty commodity producer… in the marketplace your audience becomes anonymous. The world no longer owes the cultural worker a living.’

With commodification, culture becomes truly autonomous: ‘Deprived of its traditional features, it may curve back on itself, taking itself as its own raison d’être in the manner of some modernist art.’ This art of the avant garde finds itself ‘pushed to the margin’; but this process frees art ‘to claim visionary, prophetic, bohemian or subversive status’. Outside of the mechanised workplace ‘values and energies’ are ‘siphoned off into a sphere of their own, which consists of three major sectors: art, sexuality and religion’. The problem for utilitarian capitalism was that ‘A new actor had just appeared on the political scene – the industrial working class – and was threatening to be obstreperous.’

Edmund Burke saw in Revolutionary France an unstable political state of decision, calculation and practical rationality bent on a frenzied destruction of custom and tradition. Britain, in contrast (Burke was actually Irish): was contentedly mired in customs, habits, sentiments, prejudices expressed as spontaneity, gradualism, social improvisation, and a general imperviousness to rational political consciousness.

Matthew Arnold, a Gladstonian Liberal, school-inspector and minor romantic poet, is best remembered for his book, Anarchy and Culture, which upheld ‘culture’ in the face of what he called ‘the great Philistine middle-class, the master force in our politics’.  Culture, of course, had a canon, in which the Arnold, Goethe and Wordsworth were exemplary. In sum, according to Eagleton:

‘Culture, in the sense of the refined and civilised, was needed to buy off the other half of Matthew Arnold’s title, anarchy. Unless liberal values were disseminated to the masses, the masses might end up sabotaging liberal culture.’

And as religion was in crisis and in decline, ‘Culture, then, had to take over from the churches, as artists transubstantiated the profane stuff of everyday life into eternal truth.’

In Europe in the the course of the 19th century the ‘eternal truths’ of culture were interwoven with the Romantic mythologies of blood-and-soil nationalism: ‘With revolutionary nationalism, culture in the sense of language, custom, folklore, history, tradition, religion, ethnicity and so on becomes something people will kill for. Or die for.’

By the end of the 19th century, culture had become an industry churning out kitsch, nationalist propaganda. As Jack Hilton put it in Caliban Shrieks, regarding his pre-1914 school days:

‘What impartiality we got for history! Stories about little drummer boys’ valour, the minstrel boy and hearts of oak. The horrors of the Black Hole of Calcutta, the glory of Nelson and Drake’s game of tiddlywinks – or was it bowls? … What a fighting chance we were given to understand the happenings of world significance – it was not a dog’s chance. It worked out this way. 1st: Heaps of God; 2nd: England first – the world nowhere; 3rd: Blatant swagger; one good innocent honest Christian blue-eyed English schoolboy equalled twenty infidel Japs (Ju Jitsu being barred of course).’

Hegel: Adventures of the Unhappy Consciousness

Eagleton points out that for 18th and 19th century cultural theorists such as Friedrich Schiller and Matthew Arnold, the phrase ‘culture wars’ would have been an oxymoron: ‘Culture in their eyes was the solution to strife, not an example of it.’

From the befuddled perspective of the Far Right, ‘Cultural Marxism’ forms the Left’s intellectual cutting edge of the ‘Culture Wars’, supposedly formulated by German-Jewish intellectuals of the Frankfurt School; all of whom were well versed in the philosophies of German Idealism, especially Hegel’s. In his Phenomenology of Spirit Hegel traces the issue of ‘Culture’ in the development of the ‘Unhappy Consciousness’ under the legal tyranny of the Roman Empire. In this state of unfreedom, moral consciousness (conscience) retreats into spiritual inwardness and the community of Christians.

In the post-Roman world of feudalism there is no longer an abstract law of property distinguishing ‘persons’ (property owners) from ‘things’ (e.g. slaves). Consciousness is formed under the rule of a lawless barbarism in league with a corrupted church which depends on it and takes a share of the plunder.

The ‘Noble Consciousness’ is characterised by ‘virtue’, ‘honour’ and self-sacrificial devotion to the ‘divine’ universal Christian principle embodied by the hereditary monarch. Asserting the ‘Law of the Heart’, virtue fights its way through ‘the way of the world’ and places itself at the service of state-power, but more than that, Hegel writes, ‘it is the conscious essence of universal state-power’. But this power only resembles an actual state when its universality is asserted in times of war with a foreign power.

In war and in peace, the counsel of nobles are in fact vassals of the sovereign monarch, but are left with territorial sovereignty over their own vassals. Because of the nobles’ allegiance to, and dependence on, the monarch, their service degenerates into flattery. The very language of the courtier is inverted as ‘pure culture’.

The inversions of ‘pure culture’ culminate in what Hegel called the ‘last and grandest’ cultures of the Enlightenment: the German Reformation and the French Revolution. The German Enlightenment inaugurated by Luthers rebellion against Catholic corruption expresses itself as abstract spiritualism (culminating in the Kantian unknowable God); the French Enlightenment as abstract materialism based on the primacy of the finite..

Hegel’s Realphilosophie presents the idea of the state as the concrete mediation of interests and classes in civil society within a universal social totality. Marxʼs early essay, On the Jewish Question, is a crtitique of Hegel’s exposition on the state from the point of view of a critical ‘disciple’. The subject in bourgeois society is divided between the role of the private individual of civil society and that of the public citizen. But as the modern state is politically expression of the egoism of self-interest individuals in civil society, there is only an illusory unity of the political community.

The idea of autonomy for the atomised individual stems from the dilemma of the ‘Beautiful Soul’ of Hegel’s Phenomenology: consciousness as a self-willed impotence which utters morality but does not act; speaking a language ‘in which all reciprocally acknowledge each other as acting  conscienciously’. But, as Gillian Rose argues in Hegel Contra Sociology, in this scenario ‘in fact no-one is acting at all’. In the ensuing ‘frenzy of self-deceit’ conscience asserts its particularity as ‘law’:

‘It is opposed to others under the guise of furthering their particular interests as if they could be a universal law… we are left with the realization of the barbarism of our abstract culture, of how we have reproduced that barbarism by denying the ethical, by fixing the illusion that we are absolute or pure moral consciousness in our moral law or in the law of our hearts.’

Hegel does not trust the autonomy of the moral individaul in this sitituation, as its autonomy would exculpate it from what it is actually deeply implicated in: the violences of civil society now appearing as the ‘Spiritual Animal Kingdom’: ‘spiritual’ because of the apparent harmony of universal and individual which is in reality the rule of abstract property relations; ‘animal’ because it serves the particular ends of individuals and not the whole society. In this ‘kingdom’ – which is actually our modern world – society is vulnerable to fascist mob rule, anti-science quackery and authoritarianism – or worse.

Slavoy Žižek writes of an ‘ideological constellation’ in which the modernism of the Enlightenment  is denigrated and downgraded by postmodern ‘culture’. For Žižek the crucial point, which postmodernism seems to ignore, is that culture and barbarism do not exclude each other: the opposite of barbarism is not culture but civilization (designated as imperialist or cosmopolitan according to political stance, i.e. ‘non-civilized’). In fact, according to Žižek, ‘culture in itself, in so far as it is affirmed in its opposition to civilization, sets free an unmistakable barbaric potential. Apropos of Hegel’s description of ‘alienated consciousness’ under feudalism which is exposed as the ‘barbarism of pure culture’ Žižek offers the more modern example of the implementers of Nazi terror enjoying the supreme achievements of German culture such as Beethoven’s string quartets after a hard days work organizing the Final Soloution. In relation to the German Reformation, Žižek writes,

‘The first model of this German Kulturbarbarismus is Luther, whose Protestant refusal of Rome presents a reaction of pure, inner culture against the worldly Catholic civilization, and at the same time, by means of its savage, violent attitude, displays the latent barbarism proper to the German ideology.’

(Slavoj Žižek, For They Know Not what They Do: Enjoyment as a Political Factor)

Terry Eagleton describes how in Britain the liberal ‘vision of culture as common ground’ held until late 1960s, when expanded higher education drew in students from the lower orders. The ‘sixties rebels challenged the liberal consensus and the academic canon, both of which had been compromised by  association with racist ideology and imperialist anthropology.

‘Postmodernism happens not just with the arrival of mass culture but with the aestheticising of social existence, from design and advertising to branding, politics as spectacle, tattoos, purple hair and ridiculously large glasses. Culture, once the antithesis of material production, has now been folded into production.’

Culture, having lost its autonomy from politics, is reduced to the zero-sum round of political demands. Language now becomes the law of framing the demands rather than a way of transcending the political. From being a spiritual solution, the linguistic turn has become part of the problem, as the process has shifted from concerns with culture to cultures. In today’s multicultural society, Eagleton concludes, culture, having become ideology becomes an ism – culturalism.

Eagleton bemoans the fact that from the standpoint of postmodernism, ‘

‘Most such life-forms today are out not to question the framework of modern civilisation but to be included within it. Inclusion, however, isn’t a good in itself, any more than diversity is. One thinks fondly of Samuel Goldwyn’s cry: “Include me out!”’

As Heinrich Heine prophesised a century before the rise of the Nazis, ‘those who burn books will in the end burn people’. Contrary to what elements of both sides in the culture wars seem to think (with both Christian priests and Trans activists gleefully burning Harry Potter books) the struggle for justice should not be about arguing over which books to burn.

Review: Jack Hilton’s Caliban Shrieks

In a previous post about the publication of the new Penguin edition of Caliban Shrieks by Jack Hilton, I ran George Orwell’s Adelphi review in 1935, which described it as ‘witty and unusual’ presentation of ‘a genuinely working-class outlook… exceedingly rare and correspondingly important. As promised, here is my own review of the book .

Caliban Shrieks by Jack Hilton, with hew introductions by Andrew McMillan and Jack Chadwick.

Penguin, March 2024

Reviewed by David Black

Jack Hilton’s Caliban Shrieks, now back in print after 90 years, is a forgotten ‘modernist’ classic. Breaking the mold of the ‘working class novel’ (such as Walter Greenwood’s Love on the Dole, published in 1933), Hilton’s narrative cracks along without any dialogue between characters and with no character development apart from the protagonist’s own and his circumstances. As George Orwell put it, the book ‘deals with its subject from the inside, and consequently it gives one, instead of a catalogue of facts relating to poverty, a vivid notion of what it feels like to be poor.’

The story begins in Oldham, Lancashire, where Hilton was born in 1900. As a victim of bullying in childhood, Hilton identifies with Shakespeare’s Caliban: an outcast treated as  ‘A freckled whelp hag-born – not honour’d with a human shape.’

‘From about five I began to have contact with my species, and the thing I remember most was the cruelty of it,’ he writes. He is aware from any early age that his class is being miseducated and prepared for a war by those who wouldn’t have to fight it. Schoolteachers especially:

‘What impartiality we got for history! Stories about little drummer boys’ valour, the minstrel boy and hearts of oak. The horrors of the Black Hole of Calcutta, the glory of Nelson and Drake’s game of tiddlywinks – or was it bowls? ‘

Being too young for the army (as a 14 year-old apprentice at the start of the First World War), Hilton’s Caliban  does a run of factory jobs. Of the ‘blasted reality in a cotton mill’, he writes:

‘Four walls, caged captivity, hellish noise, wheels going round, motion, speed, punches up the posterior to acclimatise you (golly, Mr Millowner’s daughter, marry me quick before I lose heart!)…What a price to pay for prestige; cotton the world and ruin the child! I was unbritish, got rebellious and, after a leathering from the jobber, ultimately fired as hopeless, much to my future benefit.’

In a subsequent job, as a washer turner on piece-work, Caliban learns the tricks of the trade:

‘Many were the times I took my gross of washers to the store room, had them booked and stole back with them under my bib. Such were the results of my earlier christian training.’

With the new war economy, workers become more ‘valued’ as national assets and thus less easy to sack:

‘As this dawned on me, my suppressed hatred of the browbeating foreman class, from whom I had received so much callousness, took concrete expression; I belted the old foreman…’

Caliban gets away with it and ‘escapes’ the factory by getting a job on the railway. This comes with the condition attached that he can only leave by joining the army, which he does in 1918. His reasons for doing so are attributed to a general ‘collapse of the youthful mind’ in the face of ‘jingo ditties’ and ‘Hang the Kaiser’ exhortations:

‘It had to be done, there was no escape…Played to the station, at the district barracks first barrage from a peppery colonel, given a regiment, a night at home, introduction to a tart, off the following day for training.’

Caliban describes his induction, training and embarkation in preparation for the ‘madhouse lunacy’ of trench warfare:

‘What honour had we on March 21st 1918? Five hours of fog, gas, cannonade, then attacked by mass hordes of beastly blondes. Dug in, yes, but not invincible, put on the run by overwhelming odds. Yes, British pluck on the run, demoralised, licked to a frazzle, from orderly retreat to a panic; yes, a panic born out of the hellish attack, too much for any human endurance. Civilisation, religion, what beastly tricks you get up to. Bow your heads in shame.’

Back from War, which he doen’t dwell on further, Caliban educates himself. Firstly by attending political debates:

‘Gallantry and British patriotism versus cowardice and conscientious objectionism seemed to be the two combating groups. Peculiarly, I was a freak in their midst, a silver-badger supporting with vote and energy labour pacifism. Oh yes, there was a reason; as a kid I’d had many pastings for carrying the coloured favours of socialism, Dad happened to be one, so I could not go over to the blue bloods. Nevertheless politics were to be the school whereby I grew a little out of my ignorance.’

Caliban’s intellectual curiousity even extends to an interest in the dismal pseudo-science of eugenics. But on reading further Caliban reflects that he shares too many of the traits in homo sapien types which the eugenicists, in their quest for ‘purity’, want to get rid of (by stopping them from breeding at the very least). Therefore, Caliban knows that by eugenic standards he can never be part of the ‘intelligentsia of culture… the super select race of oligarchic proportions’ (also, with an interest in sex and marriage, he is disinclined to comply by committing voluntary euthanasia or getting a vasectomy).

Having itchy feet in depression-hit Lancashire, Caliban hits the road and heads south. On his travels he gets to see those grand old British institutions associated with the tramping profession: the Sally-Army sixpence-a-night flophouse, the workhouse (a.k.a. the ‘spike’), the flea-ridden boarding house, and the unwelcoming rectory run by the Tory god-botherer who thinks bread, margarine and stewed tea are a just reward for a day’s work. On life ‘underneath the arches’ of London he writes:

‘London, the Embankment, the Charing Cross and Waterloo of life’s incompatibles… The home away from home, the killer of egoism, the gathering of affinities. .. All ‘stoney’, all on the level, all can prate about their pasts, few so foolish as to speculate as to their future success. Out of gaols, out of spike; out of works, out of respects, but all accepting this long promenade’s hospitality in preference to that of the one big union – the workhouse.’

Returning to Lancashire, Caliban, teams up with like-minded friends and turns to organising:

‘We lounge and walk, often look for work we now know intuitively is non-existent. We get somehow or other drawn to what is known as ‘working for a cause’. The cause of the unemployed, the cause of ourselves, the neglected and the despised, the unwashed, exploited by all political parties – yes, all I say, bar no one. They all take advantage of our misery.’

Caliban never gets to encounter any member of ruling class up-close, but he knows the mediating social strata (petit-bourgeois), those bastard descendents of Ariel who weave the spells of ideology and subservience to authority.

‘Civil certainly, but what’s it all mean? Understrapper servility, holy-Michael piety, meekness, watch your step, every step, a life sentence to orthodoxy. Stupid pawns, robots, unimportant pigmies, bowing, scraping, never getting within a thousand miles of the oligarchy you serve.’

Caliban finds escape In the Rochdale Public Library:

‘Great pages of philosophy, science, history, and antiquity, written by men of all times, could be got from the libraries and by this method, at least, minds could be in communion with those whose environments were opposite. It is from these I got a rough cynical bite into the trousers seat of banality. I had suffered much  from my lack of erudition, had often been made the butt of the petty supercilious wits. I was unabashed, undaunted and condemned everyone.’

Caliban’s efforts to organise unemployed workers are stymied by politicians (opportunist Labourites, the centrists of the Independent Labour Party  – ‘Inflated Little Pawns’ he calls them – fanatical and disruptive ‘Third Period’ Stalinists and undercover police.

‘The police showed plenty of tact, but the hungry groups of famished men acted like the beasts that poverty makes them. Here and there, there were small riots, disturbances were common. Even our group of half-inchers, more like fogged idealists, got in a scrape. Of course we were guilty: vile language was used, windows were broken, stones were thrown, assaults were committed. A mob was unleashed: it was angry, it was hungry, it had been underfed. Arrests were made. The evidence and the breaches of the law justified them. BUT the enforcement of the law does not remove the cause, it merely deals with effects.’

And so Caliban is remanded in Strangeways prison. There is a lot described in Caliban Shrieks which has fortunately passed into history, such as the work house and the means-test for the unemployed. One institution that is still with us, however, is the prison system (in 1934 the UK prison population was about 15,000; In 2024 it is over 100,000. What else is new?). Hilton’s account of his imprisonment is, as Orwell put it, ‘delivered with an extraordinary absence of malice’.

Jack Chadwick explains in his introduction that ‘Upon release he was bound over, barred from speaking for his cause for three years. Pen and pad became the only outlet for the voice he’d learned to wield just as well as any rosette-wearing Prospero.’

Shakespeare’s Caliban curses his exile by Prospero (‘In this hard rock, whiles you do keep from me The rest o’th’island.’) ‘You taught me language, and my profit on’t is I know how to curse. The red plague rid you. For learning me your language!’ The ‘hard rock’ in Hilton’s tale is the class structure he can’t escape from.

As for the language of the 20th century Caliban, as Jack Chadwick puts, ‘Really, our Caliban had taught himself the language of the masters, at a time when the Prosperos of the industrial world had run out of profitable uses for their servants.’

Chadwick, a 28-year-old bartender and aspiring writer, discovered Caliban Shrieks while visiting Salford’s Working Class Movement Library. Chadwick tracked down Hilton’s lost heirs and secured the rights, on condition he’d get the writings republished. Chadwick got a deal with Penguin, which has just published it. It has been hailed by the New Yorker as a ;lost literary masterpiece;, whilst the Guardian, striking a typically snotty pose, judges that whatever its merits, it was ‘the eccentric form and chaotic style that doomed it.’
Chadwick’s assessment is more tantalising:

Caliban Shrieks has this unique quality that I hadn’t come across before and I found it so compelling,” Chadwick told the Independent. “It’s so raw, it feels like it’s coming to you from across the pub table.”

 

Loren Goldner on Jeremiah Moss’s Vanishing New York.

Jeremiah Moss, Vanishing New York. How a Great City Lost its Soul

(HarperCollins, 2017)

Reviewed by Loren Goldner

(This article is from Revolt Against Plenty, 2020. Republished with permission),

Jeremiah Moss came as a young man to New York City in 1993, in search of the Bohemia of which he had dreamed, growing up in a small, sleepy town in New England. Though he came at the first opportunity, by his own admission, he arrived too late. By the early 1990’s, Bohemia, such as it has existed since perhaps Walt Whitman held forth at Pabst’s Brewery in the 1850’s, was comatose, destroyed by various social and economic forces, large and small, but above all by the transformation of the city into a theme park that systematically eradicated the haunts of writers, artists, gays and a host of other sub-cultures which had previously survived there, catch as catch can, on the affordable margins. In a word, Bohemia was eradicated by gentrification.

And unlike many previous and premature obituaries for Bohemia, in Moss’s view, what distinguished the 1990s and thereafter from the demise of earlier generations of “garrets and pretenders” was conscious policy from City Hall, working with the banks and big real estate, aimed at destroying the “ecology” that had sustained Bohemia for well over a century, a policy enforced, when necessary, by those “husky workers in blue”, the New York Police Department (NYPD). This policy was conceived and carried out by a series of mayors from Ed Koch in the 1970’s through such luminaries as “Mayor Mussolini” (and now top Trump advisor) Rudy Giuliani, the billionaire Michael Bloomberg, up to and including the current, hapless liberal Bill De Blasio, who came in talking about the city’s soaring income  gap and promptly forgot such rhetoric once in power.

As Moss tells it, New York Bohemia did not die, it was murdered. This murder was complemented by the arrival, for the first time, of legions of young people from suburbia and the hinterland, no longer aspiring writers with unsold manuscripts, but a new generation of men and women, MBA’s, lawyers, fledgling bankers, stock brokers and CPAs, happy to dance on the grave of Bohemia (if they even knew it had existed or what it was) in blind weekend drunks, vomiting on the doorsteps of Moss’s and others’ remaining rent-stabilized apartments, shouting obscenities at the owners of older cafes, (whose coffee did not compare, in their view, with Starbucks) and generally acting like the philistine, boorish, well-heeled “frat bros” and riffraff that they were and are.

“I moved to New York,” writes Moss, “hoping to avoid such people for the rest of my life.” Moss is, moreover, quite aware that this gangrenous affliction is no mere New York phenomenon, but has its global counterparts throughout Europe, Asia and Latin America as well. But he has 400 pages of material on the one city he knows best, and leaves the critique of the gentrification of Paris, Berlin, Seoul or Sao Paolo to others. On Paris, Guy Debord had already written: “Paris no longer exists. The destruction of Paris is only an exemplary illustration of the mortal disease which is currently carrying off all the great cities, and this disease is itself merely one symptom of the material decadence of a society.”

One dimension that Moss does not discuss is the change in capital accumulation, beginning in the 1970’s, in which capital could increasingly no longer be profitably invested in “advanced” countries (advanced above all in social decay) in industry,  agriculture, or extraction (mining, etc.) but rather in unproductive sectors such as “services”, the military and real estate, the latter a purely parasitic activity that creates no wealth but merely appropriates wealth produced elsewhere (in this case, construction)  for income or resale. Thus it is not merely writers, artists, dancers and musicians who are seen off, but increasingly the urban working class, whose neighborhoods, not without tension, co-existed with Bohemia, and whose factories have closed down or relocated to the Dominican Republic or Sri Lanka or Myanmar.

It is often forgotten that as late as 1945, New York was the number one manufacturing city in the U.S.  Over the decades since the Second World War, New York was de-industrialized as surely as Detroit or Chicago, led in this case by the departure of the “needle trades” or the “schmatta” (clothing) industry, and the militant unions that emerged in them, first to the “open shop” American South and then overseas to Central America and beyond. They were replaced by miles of chains (Rite-Aid, Starbucks, Walgreen’s etc.) and hundreds of self-service bank branches, decimating the once tight-knit working-class communities they displaced.

This was part of America’s transformation into a “post-industrial” society, where the percentage of men and women producing “value” (in Ricardo’s or Marx’s sense) constantly declined in favor of those consuming it, probably 70-80% of the workforce today.  And nowhere was the concentration of the unproductive “creative classes” (to use the economically illiterate Richard Florida’s early and now discredited term) greater than in New York City.

It is, however,  not our purpose to linger over such lacunae in Moss’s generally outstanding book, but merely to pose a somewhat different backdrop to our review. Moss’s rich detail is like a banquet table sagging under a huge feast, from which we hope to extract a few choice morsels, urging others to further partake; a mere review can hardly do this book justice.

Moss makes no pretence of pseudo-objectivity; he is patently “shaking a fist” at the people and institutions that have ruined a once great city. His New York is one of “dark moods”. Gentrification evolved over several decades into what Moss calls “hyper-gentrification”, embodied in “luxury condos, mass evictions, hipster invasions, a plague of tourists, the death of small local businesses, and the rise of corporate monoculture.”

Gentrification is quite distinct from the older pattern of one poor group pushing out another, such as the immigrant Chinese takeover of most of Little Italy; gentrification is about class and power, as when an influx of techies and yuppies pushes out poor blacks and Latinos with few or no options for where to go.

While for now “the city’s soul still haunts pockets of the outer boroughs,”  Moss’s book is “not a Baedeker to those pockets. It is a journey among the ruins, a dyspeptic trip though the parts of town hardest hit during the Bloomberg years.”

Moss highlights, for starters, the East Village, which today is full of “hedge fund managers, millionaire celebrities, and marauding dude-bros” but they had been preceded long before by “Jewish lefties, Italian agitators, theatre people, avant-gardists, anarchists, mobsters, as well as the very poor…Emma Goldman, who hung out at Justus Schwab’s Saloon on East First Street” found there “a Mecca for French Communards, Spanish and Italian refugees, Russian politicals, and German socialists and anarchists…”

Moss describes the old/new dialectic that has emerged instead, as the gentrifiers see it: “…the stuff of old New York is smelly and bothersome, and probably should vanish. The new stuff, the extruded-plastic simulation that has nothing to do with New York, is so desirable you can never have too much…” Moss calls the litany of new stuff “a meme, a self-replicating thought virus”: “Old New York is bad…New corporate chains are good. Tenements are bad. Luxury condos are good. Preservation is bad. Gentrification is good.”

The new luxury apartment building, Red Square, whose very name embodies the cynical victory cry of yuppiedom over the radicalism of the old neighborhood. It was built in 1989 on Houston St., ”the dividing line between the East Village and the Lower East  Side…one of the first modern luxury buildings in the neighborhood, and probably the first to thoroughly exploit the poverty and socialist history in its marketing materials…(Red Square) created an image that would appeal to the rich by selling them on the grit, poverty and risk of the Lower East Side…designed to appeal to a narrow audience of people with resources who wanted to live in a hip, extreme and even dangerous neighborhood…Sweatshop workers, Latinos, musicians and poets become animatronic characters in a theme park designed for world-conquering Mr. Wall Street  and his Dutch model girlfriend.”

For Moss, “Red Square was revolutionary in the way it marketed the authentic culture of the Lower East Side—socialism, bohemianism, the working class—in order to sell it to an invading culture that would then destroy it.”

Here we have the cynical post-modern penchant for “quotation”, in this case in architecture and urbanism.  One poet, Taylor Mead, lived around the corner from Houston,  on Ludlow Street, for thirty-four years, “…until he was displaced from his rent-stabilized apartment at age eighty-eight by…(a )…real estate tycoon…(enduring)…construction noise and poor conditions, for as long as he could…Mead eventually surrendered  his apartment, accepting a buyout and leaving New York with the hope of returning one day. He never did. Within a few weeks of moving out, he was dead from a massive stroke.”

The fight over the Bowery Bar in 1994-95, which had taken over the site of an old gas station, is another chapter in Moss’s account. Its opening was resisted by activists and artists, “in the courts and in the streets”. A central figure was Carl Hultberg, living in a “rent-controlled apartment he’d taken over from his grandfather, jazz historian Rudi Blesh”, who’d moved there in 1944. In an email to Moss, Hultberg wrote that the nightclub developers Eric Goode and Serge Becker “in a few short months…had transformed our once sleepy Bohemian district into an open sewer of American crap culture.”

The building had been sold to Mark Scharfman, “a man who’d made New prototypical heartless landlord. Goode and Becker transformed it “into the ultra-exclusive boutique hotel Lafayette House.” “The match struck by Bowery Bar in 1994,” writes Moss, “had met gasoline. In the 2000s, the Bowery went supernova.”

As if on cue, artists of the Establishment arrived. As one landlord-artist Gamely put it, “…now that the neighborhood is nice enough for galleries, there aren’t many artists left.” Luxury hotels proliferated.

“From the beginning,” says Moss, “the locals hated the Cooper Square Hotel, viewing it as “an arrogant, entitled, fuck-you middle finger to the neighborhood.” Despite further protests, “all that righteous anger could not bring the tower down, even when the developers’ bank claimed they defaulted on $52 million in loans and filed a lawsuit to foreclose.”

It was taken over by a hotelier with sites in Hollywood, Miami Beach and New York’s Meatpacking District, and “renamed the Standard East Village, with a new restaurant aptly called ‘Narcissa’…”

This ongoing “quotation” of the earlier life of the East Village was shameless, an expression of contemporary capitalism’s own cultural emptiness.

Moss cites Neil Smith, the late CUNY professor of anthropology and geography, for an historical overview of gentrification: “The class remake of the city was minor, small scale, and symbolic in the beginning, but today we are seeing a total class retake of the central city .Almost without exception, the new housing, new restaurants, new artistic venues, new entertainment locales-not to mention new jobs on Wall Street—are all aimed at a social class quite different from those who populated the Lower East Side or the West Side, Harlem, or neighborhood Brooklyn in the 1960’s. Bloomberg’s rezoning of, at latest count, 104 neighborhoods has been the central weapon in this assault.”

Moss takes a fourth wave from London urbanist Loretta Lees, hyper- gentrification, who described it as “the consolidation of a powerful national shift favoring the interests of the wealthiest households, combined with a bold effort to dismantle the last of the social welfare programs associated with the 1960’s.”

For Moss, hyper-gentrification is “the return of the white-flight suburbanites’ grandchildren and their appetite for a ‘geography of nowhere’…in which monotonous chain stores nullify the streets,”

Neil Smith’s term “the revanchist city” ultimately traces back to the French bourgeoisie after the crushing of the Paris Commune in 1871. A century later, Giuliani’s New York took revenge on “people of color, the poor and working class, immigrants, feminists, homosexuals, socialists, bohemians.”

Moss’s vanishing New York is, then, “the twentieth century city, the metropolis born from a confluence of restless, desperate people who arrived as underdogs and became the city’s life force…”the people who don’t mince words and occasionally say “fuck you, you fuckin’ fuck” in a moment of proletarian poetry.

Thus we have glimpses of Moss’s exceptionally rich material, hopefully giving the flavor he maintains relentlessly for 400 pages. It is to be hoped that the book will be read far and wide, and beyond spurring the rage felt by this reviewer at the victory (to date) by the massive assault of big capital and finance on a once working-class town without equal, will also inspire the  activism initiated by anti-gentrification groups such as Take Back the Bronx and the Crown Heights Tenants Union listed in an appendix.

BPC Books Helen Macfarlane and the Chartists

 

 

BPC has published three books in the Red Antigone Series on Helen Macfarlane and the Chartists, and the book, 1839: the Chartist Insurrection. Details below.

 

Red Antigone: The Life and World of Helen Macfarlane 1818-60  – Chartist Journalist, Feminist Revolutionary and Translator of the Communist Manifesto By David Black

 

Paperback (110 pages) and ebook – March 2024

The first title issued in the Red Antigone Series, this is the first biography of Helen Macfarlane, Scottish-born feminist philosopher and shooting star of late-Chartist journalism.

Born into a family of gentrified Highland lairds who moved to Glasgow and became rich capitalists, Helen Macfarlane was a child of the Scottish Enlightenment. Educated by the males in her family, she went further than any of them in her radicalism. Key sections of the Communist Manifesto, which she translated, explained for her how capitalist development led to disruption, such as the bankruptcy of the Macfarlane calico business, and unemployment and poverty for masses of workers. Red Antigone is also the saga of her ‘clan’ – of found and lost riches, and risky adventure, and tragedy – and its, at times, conflictual relationship with her revolutionary politics.  Alone amongst British radicals, her interpretation of ‘continental socialism’ was based as much on her understanding of Hegel as on her involvement in the 1848 Revolutions. Marx praised her as an ‘original’ and a ‘rara avis’.

___________________________________________

The second title in the Red Antigone Series, is:

Red Chartist

The Complete Annotated Works of Helen Macfarlane and her Translation of Karl Marx’s Communist Manifesto

(as published in the Chartist periodicals, The Democrat Review of British and Foreign Politics, History and Literature, the Red Republican, the Friend of the People, and Reynolds News.)

Amazon Link. This title is a paperback, NOT available as an ebook. The content can found, however, in the following book published by Unkant in 2014, now re-issued by BPC as an ebook print replica.

Red Republican

The Complete Annotated Works ofHelen Macfarlane and her Translation of Karl Marx’s Communist Manifesto by KarlMarx

Amazon Link

__________________________________________

1839: The Chartist Insurrection

David Black and Chris Ford (with a foreword by John McDonnell MP), originally published as a paperback by the late and lamented Unkant Publishing, London in 2012, has now been re-issued by BPC Publishing as a KDP Ebook.

Reviews of 1839

Ben Watson, blurb-on-the back:

‘In retrieving the suppressed history of the Chartist Insurrection, David Black and Chris Ford have produced a revolutionary handbook.’

Dan La Botz, New Politics

Black and Ford have written a fast-paced, narrative history of the 1839 Insurrection, filled with thumbnail sketches of the Chartist movement’s major figures, descriptions of the most important Chartist organizations and their politics in brief, excerpts from contemporary speeches, and parliamentary debates, and wonderful descriptions of the movement’s rise, growth, and spread throughout Britain. All of this is based on the most masterful command of the sources: newspapers, parliamentary records, memoirs, private papers, and all of the secondary literature. They tell their story in the most straightforward way but at a breathtaking clip that contributes to the sense of the excitement of the movement and its culmination in the insurrection.”

Stephen Roberts, People’s Charter

I read this book in one sitting as I sheltered from the pouring rain at Bodnant Gardens in North Wales. Based on a wide range of secondary sources and easy to read, it provided a welcome way of spending a few hours whilst waiting for the weather to clear (it didn’t!). The authors tell the story of a year when they assert the conditions for a working class revolution existed. Their account, almost entirely based on such secondary sources as the studies of the Newport Rising by David Jones and Ivor Wilks (but noticeably omitting recent books by Malcolm Chase and Paul Pickering) cannot be said to add to the scholarship, but is full of vigour and engagement. Black and Ford see Chartism in 1839 as ‘a mass working class democratic movement with revolutionary and socialist tendencies’. So this is very much a political account from an avowedly Marxist stance. For the authors a hero of the Chartist story emerges … George Julian Harney. And rightly so: Harney should be a hero to us all.”

R. Reddebrek, Goodreads

A very detailed and readable account of the early Chartist movement, its origins the personalities that came to dominate it and the events that spurred it on to physical force demonstrations culminating in the attempted insurrection in Southern Wales. It also comes with two appendixes that add further context to the time and give a voice to some of the Chartist leaders.

Sharon Borthwick, Unkant Blog, June 26, 2012

This was an exciting time… Dave Black and Chris Ford bring this time alive with this thoroughly researched book which includes many first hand accounts of meetings, battles and the colourful protagonists, many of who fully supported ‘ulterior measures’ in other words arming themselves, should parliament reject the petition for universal male suffrage which really they knew was a foregone conclusion…

This is a period soaked both in romance and horror and our heroes are both romantic and practical. The young George Julian Harney is just 21 when he joins the National Union of the Working Classes. He has been schooled on The Pilgrims Progress, Robinson Crusoe, The Castle of Otranto and the Sorrows of Young Werther. He sports a Jacobean red cap, which he likes to pass onto the heads of pretty young women who favour him with their singing binnies. He was a dogged agitator who travelled extensively to spread the Chartist message…

The momentum is all towards the final battles of 1839 when thousands are amassing in Wales and the North. Harney is finally furious with London as in the North strikes had begun, Manchester succeeding in closing 12 mills, the colliers of Northumberland downing tools. In Newport 6,000 men marched on Westgate but their leader has fled.

Some have lost their lives and many are imprisoned. Dr William Price escapes to Paris where he hangs out with the poet Heinrich Heine. We get glimpses of other characters. We don’t know much about him but that there was a £100 reward on his head, but we are glad that Dai the Tinker has escaped.

James Heartfield, Spiked Online, June 2012

David Black and Chris Ford’s account of the Chartist uprising of 1839 is also written in part to save these agitators from the condescending judgement of an Althusserian, in this case Gareth Stedman-Jones, whose ‘fear of agency’ cannot recognise Chartism’s self-conscious attempt to overthrow ‘old Corruption’. 1839: The Chartist Insurrection is altogether a more rewarding read than Rancière’s for its unapologetic focus on people who are making their own history. Black and Ford make the case that the earlier 1839 uprising came closer to overthrowing the existing order than the later challenge of 1848. They situate the movement in the disappointment of the Reform Act of 1832 that gave the vote to middle- class property owners, but not to the working men who protested alongside them.

Black and Ford make a good case that, though the technology they worked with was not for the most part industrial, the core of the Chartist movement was much more than an outgrowth of radicalism. Of course, it was true that their Charter was a series of democratic demands – adult male suffrage, annual elections, paid Members of Parliament. On the other hand, popular among them was Gracchus Babeuf’s argument that the democratic revolutions in America and France left ‘the institutions of property’ intact as ‘germs of the social evil to ripen in the womb of time’. The common ambition among the Welsh miners that the owners be made to work their own mines tells us that their struggle for democracy was indeed mixed up with a class struggle between owners and hands.

As the authors show, the movement argued hard about how far it should go if its great petition, the Charter, on presentation to parliament, should be refused – as it was. The Chartist Convention, a national organisation with elected delegates, debated the use of ‘Ulterior Measures’ in that case.

George Julian Harney – anticipating modern Sinn Fein’s slogan ‘an armalite in one hand and a ballot paper in the other’ by 150 years – called on his audience to carry ‘a musket in one hand and a petition in the other’. Threatened with prosecution, many in the audience testified that he had in fact said ‘a biscuit in one hand…’. Arguing for the Ulterior Measures, Feargus O’Connor promised that ‘it would be a war of capital against labour, and capitalists would soon find out that labour was the only real capital in the world’.

Still, Black and Ford do not flatter the Chartists unduly, nor make them into cartoon heroes. All the weaknesses of the organisation are confronted here. Throughout the summer of 1839, there were a number of protests in towns across the north of England, notably Newcastle, and in Wales and Scotland, while many smaller groups took up the call to arm themselves. The planned general strike, or sacred month, though, was poorly executed and patchily observed. In some confusion and disarray, the Convention voted to dissolve itself after a number of setbacks.

As it turned out, the leaders’ retreat only opened the floodgates of a movement that was determined to fight on. Black and Ford tell the story of General Napier, who led the militia against the Chartists, though he was himself sympathetic to their cause, if not their methods. On 6 August 1839, Napier wrote: ‘The plot thickens. Meetings increase and are so violent, and arms so abound, I know not what to think. The Duke of Portland tells me that there is no doubt of an intended general rising.’ But Napier’s judgement is compelling: ‘Fools! We have the physical force, not they.’

Black and Ford tell a heartwrenching story of attempted insurrections in Bradford, Newcastle and, most pointedly, in Newport in south Wales, where the movement came to a head. The insurrection was led by the tragic figure of John Frost, who himself was hoping to dampen the movement down, explaining at his trial that ‘so far from leading the working men of south Wales, it was they who led me, they asked me to go with them, and I was not disposed to throw them aside’. Though the Chartists did succeed in taking the streets and the Westgate, their superior numbers were not enough to beat the special constabulary’s better organisation.

All over England, there were risings that failed to meet up, followed by suppression of the movement and a witch-hunt of the organisers. Some escaped, like Devyr, while John Frost was caught and tried – and would have been hanged but that the sentence was commuted to transportation (itself a sign that the authorities feared worse if they killed him). George Julian Harney concluded that ‘organisation is the next thing to be looked into.’

Adam Buick, Socialist Standard, September 2012

The insurrectionary element in the Chartist movement has fascinated left-wing historians who see in it a frustrated revolutionary potential from which a modern vanguard can learn lessons.

Adding to this literature is a new history of the Chartist insurrectionaries of 1839 by David Black and Chris Ford (1839 –The Chartist Insurrection, London, Unkant Publishing, 2012, £10.99). It is a compelling read, telling the story of Chartism through the experiences of George Julian Harney and other ‘firebrand’ Chartist leaders such as Dr. John Taylor and examining the ill-fated Newport Rising of 1839. The authors provide a vivid account of the revolutionary potential that had built up in Britain by the late 1830s, culminating in the aborted rising at Newport in which several Chartists were killed.,

The authors seem disappointed at what they see as the paucity of revolutionary leadership within the Chartist movement. The proposed general strike in support of the Charter is regarded as a failed revolutionary opportunity because Feargus O’Connor refused to see it as a chance for the “revolutionary seizure of power.” Black and Ford argue that “the strike had an inexorable revolutionary logic: with no strike fund to draw on, the people would have to violate bourgeois property rights in order to eat” (pp.88-9). But most Chartists did not want a revolutionary seizure of power; they wanted an extension of the vote backed by the threat that if it was not granted then ‘force’might follow. Chartist leaders such as O’Connor did not want a showdown with the state via a general strike because he knew that the likely consequence would be defeat.,,

The authors suggest that Chartism was neither the tail end of radicalism nor the forerunner of socialism. But it contained plenty of the old in with the new. In their words, “In 1839 the ideas of Thomas Paine stood in dialogue with the socialistic ideas of Thomas Spence, Robert Owen`.“

Helen Macfarlane,1850 – Reflections on the Socialist ‘Nazarean’

‘The Masses’ December 1913

Helen Macfarlane (1818-60) entered the world of radical journalism in April 1850, only to abruptly leave it in December of that same year, having translated Marx and Engels’ Communist Manifesto, which was serialised in George Julian Harney’s weekly Chartist paper, the Red Republican. Macfarlane may be regarded as an interesting footnote to the history of Chartism and Marxism, but a footnote nonetheless. However, when I first came across her essays and articles of 1850 – thirteen of them, which no historian had ever bothered to evaluate—her words jumped off the page at me; it struck me that no one had ever before written like this in the English language. In short, Macfarlane was the shooting star of late-Chartist journalism. Karl Marx, who was not easily impressed by anyone, described Helen Macfarlane  as a “rara avis,” possessed of “original ideas.”

The following text is an extract from a three-part essay published in 1850 in the Democrat Review. I represents the first – and arguably last – Hegelian engagement of nascent Marxism with Christianity.

From the Democratic Review, June 1850

Apropos of Certain Passages in No.1 of Thomas Carlyle’s Latter‑day Pamphlets by Helen Macfarlane
What a noble idea is this theoretical and practical freedom of man, his infinite possibilities—which lies at the bottom of the Christian myths and sagas, and has now assumed the form of Democracy! A noble idea, but—good heavens! What a miserable, contemptible reality.

All sects hedge me in with limitations. I cannot move a step in any direction without running against some creed, or catechism, or formula, which rises up like a wall between the unhappy sectarians and the rest of the universe; beyond which it is forbidden to look on pain of damnation, or worse. No sect has ever yet raised its voice against the iniquitous inequality obtaining between the different ranks of society, whereby the accident of birth alone determines whether a human being shall have the culture necessary to develop his moral and intellectual powers — the culture without which he cannot obtain dominion over his animal wants and appetites, but must remain — like a beast — under the sway of instinct. No sect, whether established or dissenting, has ever protested against the social arrangements, in virtue of which the existence of such human brutes as that poor boy lately discovered in the diocese of the Bishop of London, is permitted — I almost said — no — but encouraged, and indeed made inevitable.

Yet such a state of society is as much opposed to the Christian idea of universal fraternity as the Hindoo institution of caste. With us the poor are the Chandalas, the unclean outcasts of society, which ignores their very existence, unless it be to punish them for crimes, the commission of which society ought to have prevented by providing all its members — first, with the means of comfortable subsistence; and secondly, with the means of moral and intellectual cultivation. Hypocritical teachers of Paganism in the guise of Christianity!

Have done with this preaching and prating about things which you scarcely even profess, and undoubtedly do not practice. You talk of the “visible church of Christ”, but you do all in your power to make it an extremely invisible church. Some of you talk much about certain persons whom you call the “Fathers of the Church”, but if these venerable fathers could become cognisant of your proceedings, they certainly would refuse to acknowledge you for sons. For it impossible to find any two things more opposed than the doctrines concerning justice and brotherly love taught by the ‘Fathers’, and the system pursued by you. If these worthy men were to rise from the dead, they would be found in our ranks; they would be Democrats, Demagogues, Socialists, Communists, Jacobins, Enemies of Order, of society, and of you.

St. Ambrose says, in express terms, that “property is usurpation”. St. Gregory the Great regards landed proprietors as so many assassins:

Let them know that the earth, from which they were created, is the common property of all men; and that, therefore, the fruits of the earth belong indiscriminately to All. Those who make private property of the gift of God, pretend in vain to be innocent! For, in thus retaining the subsistence of the poor, they are the Murderers of those who die every day for want of it.

What an incendiary vagabond is this ‘Venerable Father!’ St. John, called from his eloquence, Chrysostomus, or Goldenmouth, says,

Behold the idea we ought to have concerning rich and avaricious men. They are robbers who beset highways, strip travellers, and then hoard up the property of others, in the houses which are their dens.

St. Augustine doing dialectics

St. Augustine says on the subject of inheritance,

Beware of making parental affection a pretext for the augmentation of your possessions — I keep my wealth for my children — vain excuse! Your father kept it for you, you keep it for your children, and they will keep it for theirs, and so on. But in this way no one would observe the law of God!

St. Basil the great, in his Treatise di Avarit. 21, p. 328, Paris ed. 1638, asks,

Who is the robber? It is he who appropriates to himself the things which belong to All. Art thou not a robber, thou who takest for thyself the goods thou has received from God for the purpose of distributing them to others? If he who steals a garment be called a robber, ought not the possessor of garments, who refrains from clothing the naked, to be called by the same name? The bread thou hast stored belongs to him who is hungry; the garment thou keepest in reserve belongs to him who is naked; the sandals thou hast lying by belong to him who goes barefoot; and the money thou hast hoarded — as if buried in the earth — belongs to him who has none.

Louis Blanc is a very tame and moderate person, I think, compared with the Communists I have just quoted. How comes it that you, soi-disant preachers of the gospel of Christ, never take these or similar extracts from the “Fathers of the Christian church”, as texts for your homilies? I have frequently heard you quote from St. Augustine on predestination and grace, but you preserve a mysterious silence regarding St. Augustine on property. It is because you neither teach the Christian idea, nor do you live in it; because you are a set of pitiable imposters. You do not even make a profession of those precepts of Fraternity taught by the Nazarean, and said by him to contain the true spirit of his religion. You wisely keep silence on such points, else—out of your own lying mouths—would you be convicted.

You leave an immense and ever-increasing mass of destitution and ignorance, and crime, lying untouched at your own doors; you enter no protest against the system of civilisation—rotten to its very core—which has produced, and which fosters, this hideous state of things; but you fly to the uttermost parts of the earth—to China or Timbuctoo—in search of objects for the exercise of your boundless and overflowing Christian charity; and some among you have been found impudent enough to raise objections when others have proposed doing somewhat to enlighten the ignorance of which I speak. Pah! one’s very soul is sickened by such atrocious humbug.

Is the democratic idea expressed with greater fidelity in any other phases of the civilisation now extant?

In class legislation? In the exorbitant price of Law, whereby what is called Justice is placed beyond the reach of any save the Rich? In the Knowledge Tax? [The ‘Knowledge Tax’ was the Newspaper Stamp Duty, which was finally abolished in 1855.]

In the scanty measure of sectarian education dealt out to us by priests? In our system of indirect taxation, whereby the public burdens fall heaviest on the class which is least able to support them?

In the law of primogeniture, whereby one member of a family is ‘made a gentleman’, and the rest left beggars, to be kept by the producers — as state priests, bureaucrats, soldiers, pensioners — whose name is legion?

In a caste of hereditary legislators? In the position of women, who are regarded by the law not as persons but as things, and placed in the same category as children and the insane?

Society, as at present constituted, is directly opposed to the democratic idea; and must, therefore, be remodelled. To ask, my proletarian brothers, is one thing, but to get is another thing — a hopeless thing, I should say, from a government which does nothing unless compelled by the pressure from without, and which — instead of being its proper place — at the head of advancing society, disgracefully lags in the rear.

From Helen MacFarlane: Red Republican: Essays, Articles and Her Translation of the Communist Manifesto

(Note to publishers; The above volume was published by the late, lamented Unkant Publishing in 2014. The introducton contained biographical information. Since then I have continued to research Helen Macfarlane and have discovered a mass of startling and dramatic details concerning her life and time – enough to warrant a new edition, with an extended introduction.)