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The Air Canada Flight Attendants’ Strike and the Need for Greater Union Democracy

9/24/2025

 
by David Camfield
Published in Midnight Sun

Flight attendants at Air Canada and Air Canada Rouge, around 10,500 workers, went on strike from August 16 to early in the morning on August 19. The workforce is 70 percent women and mostly young – three-quarters of them have fewer than five years of seniority. They are members of the Canadian Union of Public Employees (CUPE) because Air Canada was once a federal Crown Corporation that was then privatized.

Workers had been on strike for only a few hours when the Liberal federal government intervened. The jobs minister told the Canada Industrial Relations Board (CIRB) – the federal labour board in whose jurisdiction workers in air transport fall – to direct the union to end the strike and order that the dispute be resolved through binding arbitration. This intervention was widely expected, since the Liberals have done this before on several occasions, using Section 107 of the Canada Labour Code.

On most of those occasions, union officials simply complied, but this time they didn’t. The workers stayed on strike. CUPE National President Mark Hancock tore up the CIRB back-to-work order in front of a cheering crowd of strikers at Toronto’s Pearson Airport. The message from CUPE’s top officers and those of CUPE’s Air Canada component was clear: the only way the strike would be settled would be through negotiations. This was undisguised defiance of the order under Section 107, whose legitimacy CUPE officials rejected.

Hancock said he was willing to go to jail if that’s what it came to. This can happen. CUPE National President Grace Hartman did time in jail back in 1981 for not ordering Ontario hospital workers who were on an illegal strike to return to work, and Jean-Claude Parrot of the Canadian Union of Postal Workers was jailed in 1978 for not telling members to respect a back-to-work law passed to end a postal strike.
The Air Canada strike was absolutely solid, which was no surprise because the strike authorization vote had been 99.7 percent in favor, with a 94.6 percent turnout. Flight attendants were strongly in support of the key union demands: significant wage increases to make up for all the erosion of their wages’ buying power under the previous contract – which had been a ten-year collective agreement! – and an end to the unpaid work that’d long been accepted in the industry: the norm according to which flight attendants are paid only for the time the plane is in the air, not for any time they spend on the plane while it’s on the ground, before or after a flight.

Although the strike completely grounded Air Canada flights and was disruptive for travellers, there was a lot of sympathy for the flight attendants. CUPE officials had laid the groundwork for this with effective public communications efforts focused on the issue of unpaid work. Members of other unions and other pro-union people started to join the picket lines. For many active union members, leftists, and, I think, lots of other working-class people, seeing Hancock tearing up the back-to-work order and insisting that the strike wouldn’t end until the union had negotiated an agreement was electrifying. For anyone who’s been dismayed by the federal government’s use of Section 107 to snuff out strikes and worried about how that gives the idea to provincial governments that they could add similar provisions to the provincial labor laws that cover about 90 percent of workers in the Canadian state, CUPE drawing a line against the back-to-work order was really inspiring.

The Canadian Labour Congress put out a statement on August 17 demanding that the order be withdrawn. It pledged financial and other support for the strike, and “unwavering solidarity” if the government took legal action against CUPE. No surprise that it was vague about what action that commitment would translate into, but it was still unequivocal support for a law-defying strike. And it called on the government to pledge not to use Section 107 against a strike again and to remove that section from the law as soon as parliament next sits.

The strike continued into Monday, August 18, with bargaining suspended, but that evening it was announced that the union’s bargaining team would be meeting with Air Canada. Early in the morning on Tuesday, they announced a deal had been reached and the strike was over. CUPE’s statement made it sound like a great victory had been won:

Flight attendants at Air Canada and Air Canada Rouge have reached a tentative agreement, achieving transformational change for our industry after a historic fight to affirm our Charter rights. Unpaid work is over. We have reclaimed our voice and our power. When our rights were taken away, we stood strong, we fought back – and we secured a tentative agreement that our members can vote on.

That’s how most people who supported the strike are thinking about the outcome, but it didn’t take long before facts came out that paint a different picture.

An offer they couldn’t refuse?

The tentative agreement that flight attendants ended up with gave them a choice between ratifying the deal and rejecting it, in which case annual wage increases would be determined by arbitration, but everything else that was negotiated would end up in the collective agreement anyway. That’s not at all how the collective bargaining process usually works. Unionized workers have the right to vote to accept or reject a tentative agreement in its entirety, unless binding arbitration is being used to determine outcomes. But in this case, very unusually, because the CIRB had declared the strike was over in legal terms, workers were presented with a ratification vote that didn’t  allow them to actually reject the deal. CUPE officials agreed to a settlement that denied workers that right and prevented them from going on strike again to fight for a better deal in this round. They didn’t win a negotiated tentative agreement that workers could accept or truly reject, which would have treated the back-to-work order as a dead letter, let alone force a withdrawal of the order.

As for what was in the four-year tentative agreement, there were wage increases. For people with fewer than five years of seniority, it was 12 percent in the first year, and for the rest, 8 percent. After that, it was 3 percent, 2.5 percent, and 2.75 percent. (This was far less than what Air Canada pilots – mostly men – got in 2024 in the first year of their new contract: 26%.) There was also partial ground pay, for an hour or just over an hour per leg of a flight, depending on the width of the plane body, with percentages rising from 50 percent of flight attendants’ in-flight hourly pay rate this year to 70 percent in 2028. Those were gains, absolutely, but they don’t mean unpaid work is over or that this is a transformational change.

Flight attendants showed what they thought of the proposed negotiated wage increases by how they voted in the ratification vote that ended on September 6: 99.1% voted to reject, with a 95% turnout. While voting no when there was no prospect of going on legal strike again was obviously an easier decision for workers than in a situation where that refusal would’ve sent them back to the picket lines, the overwhelming rejection expressed a clear sentiment: anger with Air Canada, the federal government, and, for some, CUPE. Arbitration is unlikely to result in significantly better raises. Although it’s hypothetically possible that flight attendants could still respond to the arbitrator’s eventual decision on their annual pay increases by going on a wildcat strike that defies the law and their union officials, I don’t think that’s going to happen. There would have to be really strong organization among rank-and-file workers outside of the official union structure, with confident militant rank-and-file leaders, preconditions that seem doubtful right now. There’s some evidence that as the collective experience of the strike recedes into recent memory, flight attendants are instead expressing their anger at the employer in individual ways. For example, the Instagram account @unfair_canada reports that “flight attendants [are] booking off [sick] in record numbers.” CUPE’s Air Canada Component posted on Facebook that “there has been an unprecedented increase in the number of disciplinary meetings for social media posts, particularly screenshots taken from the Air Canada Flight Attendant Discussion Board on Facebook. These posts are leading to discipline, up to and including termination.”

All in all, I think the outcome was a partial and complicated win. Workers won real gains in pay, but not the right to reject a deal and fight for a better one. What happened seems unlikely to be a big deterrent to the federal government using Section 107 to end strikes in the future. And a situation where workers didn’t have the right to reject the deal presented to them was clearly advantageous for Air Canada – and for CUPE officials. The company got a guarantee that the strike wouldn’t resume, and union officials got insulation against rank-and-file pressure to fight for a better deal and lead more strike action. Also, making a deal that workers can’t genuinely reject is bad for union-building. It’s not democratic. It took the decision about whether the deal was good enough out of workers’ hands. This isn’t going to encourage the most militant workers who were really inspired by striking to get more involved in the union.

A bigger victory was definitely possible. Air Canada was completely grounded. They were losing a lot of money, so they were under a lot of pressure. Management was completely unprepared for what happened. They expected the federal government would intervene and then CUPE officials would tell workers to comply with a back-to-work order. During the strike, CUPE put out an online graphic with a quote from an interview that Air Canada’s CEO Michael Rousseau did with BNN Bloomberg on August 18. Rousseau said, “Well, we thought, obviously, that Section 107 would be enforced, and that they wouldn’t illegally avoid Section 107.”

If the strike had gone on longer, I think flight attendants could have achieved a much bigger win for themselves and for the working class as a whole. Even if they hadn’t forced the government to rescind the back-to-work order, they could have won a deal with bigger gains that treated the order as a dead letter – a deal that workers could ratify or truly reject. That would have been an amazing precedent. And if there had been sympathy job action by airport workers or any workers at Air Canada’s main competitor WestJet – slowdowns, calling in sick, or not crossing picket lines – other employers would have been freaking out behind the scenes and leaning on Air Canada to settle. I don’t know whether any sympathy action would’ve happened if the strike had lasted longer, since it’s illegal and most workers today have no experience of doing it, but it’s not impossible that at least a little bit could have happened, especially if the government had moved to punish CUPE for defying the law. Aina Kagis, former CUPE Regional Director for Saskatchewan, sees the way this “inspiring” strike was ended as “an excruciatingly disappointing outcome for the flight attendants” and “an opportunity squandered.” According to Kagis, “CUPE’s leadership could have nurtured the flight attendants’ militancy, creating momentum for growing militancy within the labour movement.”

A missed opportunity for building momentum

So why did CUPE officials end the strike the way they did? For the top people at CUPE National, I think the main goal was to negotiate a settlement with some gains for flight attendants. They didn’t want to have everything decided by an arbitrator. After the government intervened, that was still their overriding goal. Winning a political victory against the use of Section 107 against strikes, which would have been a victory for the working class as a whole, was secondary. Once the strike forced Air Canada back to the bargaining table, union officials dropped that objective and focused on the main goal. They did so because, above all, they’re committed to collective bargaining. That legally regulated, tightly controlled process is at the core of what the layer of full-time union officials, both elected officers and staff, do. It’s their key function, along with handling grievances, which is how disputes over workers’ rights in collective agreements are dealt with in between rounds of collective bargaining.

I think the top leaders at CUPE have shown they’re prepared to support militant action if that’s what it takes to preserve conventional collective bargaining. That makes them different from the heads of many other unions. Blatant government intervention with back-to-work orders and legislation undermines conventional collective bargaining. So CUPE’s leaders are sometimes willing to support workers challenging that kind of attack on bargaining or even lead the challenge, as they just did. They’re willing to sometimes use militant tactics to fight for goals that aren’t radical.

That militancy is constrained by the fact that defying the law can lead to massive fines for unions. This can damage unions as institutions, and even threaten their ability to operate. For the union officialdom of full-time officers and staff, that’s a different kind of problem than it is for rank-and-file union members, because the former depend on the union machine in order to keep on functioning as officials. So once CUPE’s top officers saw a path to getting a deal that would end the strike and defuse the threat of big fines or criminal charges against them for defying the law, they went for it.

This isn’t the first time they’ve done it. In 2022, when CUPE’s Ontario School Board Council of Unions (OSBCU) was in bargaining and then was hit with preemptive provincial legislation to stop them from striking, they defied the law and struck anyway. Other workers began organizing sympathy strikes to support OSBCU. Yet, as soon as Ontario premier Doug Ford said he’d withdraw the law if the strike ended, CUPE National officials and other union officials put pressure on the president of OSBCU to accept the offer and go back to bargaining without the power of striking workers and their many supporters as leverage. And that’s what happened.

From a distance, the outcome of the Air Canada strike can easily look like what CUPE National said it was. So lots of people probably think it was simply a tremendous win. That will encourage union activists to use it as a positive example. They can say, “Look, CUPE defied the law and won; that’s what we should prepare to do if we have to.” That’s good. It’s good that flight attendants showed you can have a strike that’s popular and that defies the law and wins, even though it causes inconveniences for lots of people. It’s good that Hancock tearing up the back-to-work order was all over the news.

But what actually happened wasn’t what it looks like from afar. To me, what happened confirms that we can’t rely on the union officialdom to fight to win in a consistent way, even when the officials are more militant. Union members who want unions that are really militant, democratic, and solidaristic need to organize themselves on their own and work to change our unions. We need to build caucuses, groups of members who take to heart what the Clyde Workers’ Committee said in Scotland back in 1915: “We will support the officials just so long as they rightly represent the workers, but we will act independently immediately they misrepresent them.”


An earlier version of this article was published on tempestmag.org. For more on the Air Canada strike, check out episode 57 of the podcast Victor’s Children.

More pay, but less union democracy

8/30/2025

 
Originally published in Tempest.

by David Camfield

Flight attendants at Air Canada (AC) and Air Canada Rouge, around 10,500 workers, went on strike from August 16 to early in the morning on August 19. The workforce is 70 percent women and mostly young—three-quarters of them have under five years of seniority. They are members of the Canadian Union of Public Employees (CUPE) because AC was once a federal Crown Corporation (a publicly owned company) that was then privatized.

Workers had been on strike for only a few hours when the Liberal federal government intervened. The jobs minister told the Canada Industrial Relations Board (CIRB), the federal labor board in whose jurisdiction workers in air transport fall, to direct the union to end the strike and order that the dispute be resolved through binding arbitration. This intervention was widely expected, since the Liberals have done this before on several occasions, using Section 107 of the Canada Labour Code.
On most of those occasions, union officials simply complied, but this time they didn’t. The workers stayed on strike.

CUPE National President Mark Hancock tore up the CIRB back-to-work order in front of a cheering crowd of strikers at Toronto’s Pearson Airport. The message from CUPE’s top officers and those of CUPE’s Air Canada component was clear: The only way the strike would be settled would be through negotiations. This was undisguised defiance of the order under Section 107, whose legitimacy CUPE officials rejected.
Hancock said he was willing to go to jail if that’s what it came to. This can happen. CUPE National President Grace Hartman did time in jail back in 1981 for not ordering Ontario hospital workers who were on an illegal strike to return to work, and Jean-Claude Parrot of the Canadian Union of Postal Workers was jailed in 1978 for not telling members to respect a back-to-work law passed to end a postal strike.

The strike was absolutely solid, which was no surprise because the strike authorization vote had been 99.7 percent in favor, with a 94.6 percent turnout. Flight attendants were strongly in support of the key union demands: significant wage increases to make up for all the erosion of the buying power of their wages under the previous contract—which had been a ten-year collective agreement!—and an end to the unpaid work that’d long been accepted in the industry. This work is just part of the job for flight attendants, who have only been paid for the time the plane is in the air, not for any time they spend on the plane while it’s on the ground, before or after a flight.

Although the strike completely grounded AC flights, and was disruptive for travelers, there was a lot of sympathy for the flight attendants. CUPE officials had laid the groundwork for this with effective public communications efforts focused on the issue of unpaid work. Members of other unions and other pro-union people started to join the picket lines. For many active union members, leftists, and, I think, lots of other working-class people, seeing Hancock tearing up the back-to-work order and insisting that the strike wouldn’t end until the union had negotiated an agreement was electrifying. For anyone who’s been dismayed by the federal government’s use of Section 107 to snuff out strikes and worried about how that gives the idea to provincial governments that they could add similar provisions to the provincial labor laws that cover about 90 percent of workers in the Canadian state, CUPE drawing a line against the back-to-work order was really inspiring.

The Canadian Labour Congress, the equivalent of the AFL-CIO in the U.S., put out a statement on August 17 demanding that the order be withdrawn. It pledged financial and other support for the strike, and “unwavering solidarity” if the government took legal action against CUPE. No surprise that it was vague about what action that commitment would translate into, but it was still unequivocal support for a law-defying strike. And it called on the government to pledge not to use Section 107 against a strike again and to remove that section from the law as soon as parliament next sits.

The strike continued into Monday, August 18, with bargaining suspended, but that evening it was announced that the union’s bargaining team would be meeting with Air Canada. Early in the morning on Tuesday, they announced a deal had been reached and the strike was over. CUPE’s statement made it sound like a great victory had been won:

Flight attendants at Air Canada and Air Canada Rouge have reached a tentative agreement, achieving transformational change for our industry after a historic fight to affirm our Charter rights. Unpaid work is over. We have reclaimed our voice and our power. When our rights were taken away, we stood strong, we fought back—and we secured a tentative agreement that our members can vote on.

That’s how most people who supported the strike are thinking about the outcome, but it didn’t take long before facts came out that paint a different picture.

The tentative agreement that flight attendants will be voting on only gives them a choice between ratifying the deal and rejecting it, in which case wages will be settled by arbitration, but everything else that was negotiated will end up in the collective agreement anyway. That’s not at all how the collective bargaining process works in the Canadian state. Unionized workers have the right to vote to accept or reject a tentative agreement in its entirety, unless binding arbitration is being used to determine outcomes. But in this case, very unusually, and because the CIRB had declared the strike was over in legal terms, workers have been presented with a ratification vote that doesn’t allow them to actually reject the deal. CUPE officials have agreed to a settlement that denies workers that right and prevents them from going on strike again to fight for a better deal in this round. They didn’t win a negotiated tentative agreement that workers could accept or truly reject, which would have treated the back-to-work order as a dead letter, let alone force a withdrawal of the order.

For people with under five years of seniority, it’s 12 percent in the first year, and for the rest, it’s 8 percent. After that, it’s 3 percent, 2.5 percent, and 2.75 percent. And there is partial ground pay, for an hour or just over one hour per leg of a flight, depending on the width of the plane body, with percentages rising from 50 percent of the hourly pay rate this year to 70 percent in 2028. Those are gains, absolutely, but that doesn’t mean that unpaid work is over or that this is a transformational change.

The ratification vote is ongoing, from August 27 to September 6, online and by phone, and I expect that some won’t vote at all because of their disappointment, anger, and resignation from knowing that even if they reject the deal, they won’t be allowed to fight for a better one. But because expectations were high, maybe a majority will vote no. Although it’s hypothetically possible that flight attendants could reject the deal and then go on a wildcat strike that defies the law and their union officials, I don’t think that’s going to happen. There would have to be really strong organization among rank-and-file workers outside of the official union structure, with confident militant rank-and-file leaders, preconditions that seem doubtful right now.

All in all, I think the outcome is a partial and complicated win. Workers won real gains in pay, but they don’t have the right to reject a deal and fight for a better one. What’s happened seems unlikely to be a big deterrent to the federal government using Section 107 to end strikes in the future.

It’s worth pointing out that negotiating a deal that workers don’t have the right to actually reject had advantages both for the company and for CUPE officials. The company got a guarantee that the strike wouldn’t resume, and union officials got insulation against rank and file pressure to fight for a better deal and lead more strike action.

Also, the outcome of a deal that workers can’t genuinely reject is bad for union-building. It’s not democratic. It took the decision about whether the deal was good enough out of workers’ hands. This isn’t going to encourage the most militant workers who were really inspired by striking to get more involved in the union.

A bigger victory was definitely possible. Air Canada was completely grounded. They were losing a lot of money, so they were under a lot of pressure. Management was completely unprepared for what happened. They expected the federal government would intervene and then CUPE officials would tell workers to comply with a back-to-work order. During the strike, CUPE put out an online graphic with a quote from an interview that AC’s CEO Michael Rousseau did with BNN Bloomberg on August 18. Rousseau said, “Well, we thought, obviously, that Section 107 would be enforced, and that they wouldn’t illegally avoid Section 107.”

Air Canada was completely grounded.If the strike had gone on longer, I think CUPE could have won a much bigger win for flight attendants and for the working class as a whole. Even if they hadn’t forced the government to rescind the order, they could have won a deal with bigger gains that ignored the back-to-work order—a deal that workers could ratify or truly reject. That would have been an amazing precedent. And if there had been sympathy job action by any airport workers or any workers at WestJet, which is AC’s main competitor, like slowdowns, calling in sick, or not crossing picket lines, other employers would have been freaking out behind the scenes and leaning on AC to settle. I don’t know if any sympathy action would’ve happened if the strike had lasted longer, since it’s illegal and most workers today have no experience of doing it, but it’s not impossible that at least a little bit could have happened, especially if the government had moved to punish CUPE for defying the law.

So why did CUPE officials end the strike the way they did? For the top people at CUPE National, I think the main goal was to negotiate a settlement with some gains for flight attendants. They didn’t want to have everything decided by an arbitrator. After the government intervened, that was still their overriding goal. Winning a political victory against the use of Section 107 against strikes, which would have been a victory for the working class as a whole, was secondary. Once they forced AC back to the bargaining table, they dropped that objective and focused on the main goal.

Why did they do that? Above all, they’re committed to collective bargaining. That legally-regulated, tightly-controlled process is at the core of what the layer of full-time union officials, both elected officers and staff, do—that, along with handling grievances, which is how disputes over workers’ rights in collective agreements are dealt with in between rounds of collective bargaining.

I think the top leaders at CUPE have shown that they’re prepared to support militant action if that’s what it takes to preserve conventional collective bargaining. That makes them different from the heads of many other unions. Blatant government intervention with back-to-work orders and back-to-work legislation undermines conventional collective bargaining. So they’re sometimes willing to support workers challenging it or even lead that challenge, as they just did. They’re willing to sometimes use militant tactics to fight for goals that aren’t radical.

We need to remember that defying the law can lead to massive fines for unions. That can damage unions as institutions, even threaten their ability to operate. For the union officialdom of full-time officers and staff, that’s a different kind of problem than it is for rank and file union members, because they depend on the union machine in order to keep on functioning as officials. So once CUPE’s top officers saw a path to getting a deal that would end the strike and put an end to the threat of big fines or charges against them for defying the law, they went for it.

A knowledgeable CUPE person put it to me this way: “You have to hand it to National for playing their cards so well—they effectively posture as bold militants to the membership and public, while effectively containing struggles within status quo parameters. They get their cake and eat it too.”

This isn’t the first time they’ve done it. In 2022, when CUPE’s Ontario School Board Council of Unions (OSBCU) was in bargaining and then was hit with pre-emptive provincial legislation to stop them from striking, they defied the law and struck anyway. Organizing toward sympathy strikes to support OSBCU started to happen. As soon as the provincial premier said he’d withdraw the law if the strike ended, CUPE National officials and other union officials put pressure on the president of OSBCU to accept the offer and go back to bargaining without the power of striking workers and their many supporters as leverage. And that’s what happened.

From a distance, the outcome of the Air Canada strike can easily look like what CUPE National said it was. So lots of people probably think it was simply a tremendous win. That will encourage union activists to use it as a positive example. They can say, “Look, CUPE defied the law and won, that’s what we should prepare to do if we have to.” That’s good. It’s good that flight attendants showed you can have a strike that’s popular and that defies the law and wins, even though it causes inconveniences for lots of people. It’s good that Hancock tearing up the back-to-work order was all over the news.

But what actually happened wasn’t what it looks like from afar. To me, what happened confirms that we can’t rely on the union officialdom to fight to win in a consistent way, even when the officials are more militant. Union members who want unions that are really militant, democratic and solidaristic need to organize themselves on their own and work to change our unions. We need to build caucuses, groups of members who take to heart what the Clyde Workers’ Committee said in Scotland back in 1915: “We will support the officials just so long as they rightly represent the workers, but we will act independently immediately they misrepresent them.”

For more on this strike, check out episode 57 of the podcast Victor’s Children.

What Can We Hope For?

5/20/2025

 
Originally published in Midnight Sun

The fall of the state projects sometimes called “actually existing socialism” (AES) in Eastern Europe and the 
USSR from 1989–91 was widely interpreted as the end of communism and any other project of constructing an alternative to capitalism. The 1989 Tiananmen Square massacre of pro-democracy protestors by the Chinese military fed into the same view; if the Chinese Communist Party survived as a ruling party, unlike its counterparts in the USSR and Eastern Europe, it was only through bloody repression. Around the world, parties that supported AES lost much of their support. Radical left forces that were highly critical of AES but considered it better than capitalism also suffered. Over time, the widespread perception that the alternative to capitalism had failed reduced the appeal even of radical politics that held that AES societies had not been in transition to communism at all. This belief in a historic failure fed into the mood expressed in the saying of unknown origins reported by cultural studies scholar Fredric Jameson: “It is easier to imagine the end of the world than the end of capitalism.” 

Nevertheless, the realities of capitalism fuelled global surges of anti-capitalist sentiment and politics in the short-lived global justice movement that began in the late 1990s, in the wake of the Great Recession of 2007–09 and the austerity drive that followed, and more recently in response to climate change, how states handled the COVID-19 pandemic, and racism. This sentiment has often boosted support for reformist socialism: the left social democracy of Jeremy Corbyn in the UK, Jean-Luc Mélenchon in France, Bernie Sanders and the kind of politics dominant within the Democratic Socialists of America in the US, and the like. Today there are also many people who dream of freedom, of liberation, of a future more radically different from the present than what left social democracy seeks. However, they often think politically in terms of abolition, feminism, trans and queer liberation, degrowth, and/or anti-capitalism without also being communist (the point is not whether people use the term “communism” to name the society for which they wish to fight but what kind of society they wish to see established). The mood captured by Jameson is still very widespread. 

All strands of communist politics have also been affected by how their political magnetism has been depleted by the ending of what we can call the classical workers’ movement over the closing decades of the twentieth century, decades in which employers and states inflicted major defeats on the global working class. Of course, there are still unions and, in some places, other mass organizations of the working class. What no longer exists almost anywhere are, as I once described them in an article for the online edition of the magazine Salvage, “configurations of workers’ organizations with a strong relationship to at least a small but significant minority of the class that affirm a commitment to the creation by workers of a fundamentally different society.” What is more, “infrastructures of dissent” – defined by theorist Alan Sears as “the means through which activists develop political communities capable of learning, communicating and mobilizing together” – are much weaker than they once were. 

In part because of these developments, popular discontent arising from changes in society that have worsened life globally for many people since the Great Recession is being tapped and moulded by rising right-wing forces. These include both fascist and other far-right organizations, which aim to do away with capitalist democracy altogether, and a larger set of forces that want to weaken it further. Together they make up an “array of antidemocratic and reactionary forces seeking to reassert class rule and privilege, to exit the crises of our times on terms set by capital, to bring a specific kind of order to an increasingly unstable world,” as theorists Todd Gordon and Jeffery R. Webber perceptively observe in an article for the magazine Spectre. In these conditions, is communism a meaningful political project?

Before addressing that question, one objection needs to be discussed: even if socialist revolutions happen, the global ecological crisis will make transition to communism impossible. Upheavals stemming from climate change lie ahead, along with other dimensions of the crisis, including more pandemic outbreaks. Humanity needs to shift to non-fossil sources of energy as quickly as possible – an enormous undertaking. Doing this while at the same time allowing imperialized countries of the South to improve the lives of their inhabitants will require reducing energy use in imperialist countries. The use of many non-renewable resources must also be reduced, agriculture transformed, food systems changed, and many forms of pollution stopped. According to some ecologists, people would not be able to both make such changes and also move towards communism, which they believe would involve ecocidal industrial growth. My response is that this is true for a transition towards “productivist” communism – one that would ignore or downplay the limits of our biosphere and retain most of capitalism’s technological structure and the wasteful, consumer goods-fixated, car-dependent, jet-travelling way of life spawned in the imperialist countries during the post–World War II economic boom and then spread around the world. But there is no reason to assume that people who had taken control of society and started to reconstruct it would take a productivist path. The extremely democratic institutions of self-government they would have created would provide an unparalleled framework for debating which priorities would shape the democratic planning of production and the reorganization of social life. Within that framework, and no longer shackled by capitalism’s ecocidal drive, it would be far easier than in any capitalist society to argue for ecological concerns to be prioritized. “Private sufficiency, public luxury” could be a principle in the transition to an ecological communism, which is a goal worth fighting for no matter how severe the ecological crisis gets. Without such a transition, capitalism will make it impossible to achieve all of the far-reaching changes that are urgently needed to address our dire ecological situation.


Is There Any Hope for Communism? 

Returning to the question of whether communism is a viable political project today, it is not hard to understand what capitalism is doing to humanity and the rest of nature. Some of this was touched on at the outset of this book, and much has been written about it. Capitalism is doing what it is doing because of the essential character of its social metabolism. This is driven by its irrational logic: the competitive accumulation of capital on an ever-larger scale and at an ever-faster speed. Capitalism operates as it does not because of an imbalance that can be corrected but because of its inherent systemic imperatives. As the saying goes, “The system isn’t broken. It was built this way.” This is why it is necessary for humanity to move from capitalism to a better and entirely different way of organizing social life. 

Whether communism is possible is where the major problem arises. Even many sympathizers are skeptical because we have not yet had a historical experience in which people have really begun to reconstruct society in the direction of communism, yet we do have a history of defeated revolutions and the disastrous experience of AES. Moreover, we are all affected by living in an age in which there is a sense that history is over, that we live in a world of the eternal present, that the future will be like the present, but probably worse. This context clouds our ability to see that the world is not closed but “open, incomplete, unfinished,” as the Italian historian Enzo Traverso puts it. We can better appreciate that openness if we understand that the present is just a moment of history. Over time humans have organized societies in a wide variety of ways, even if societies have been structured by a limited number of modes of production. 

The status quo that we often take for granted did not have to be as it is. It is the outcome of events and processes shaped by clashing class and other social forces in particular times and places. It is not the inevitable culmination of laws of history that could not have unfolded otherwise. Nor is it the product of random chance. Consider just one counterfactual scenario: if the Russian Communist Party’s surplus-extracting state of proletarian origin had been overthrown in the early 1920s, it would have been replaced by a horrific counter-revolutionary military dictatorship: “The world would have had a Russian name for Fascism,” as Trotsky once put it. At the same time, communist politics would not have been distorted by Stalinism, and AES would never have existed. The history of the twentieth century would have been dramatically different. 

The status quo that we often take for granted did not have to be as it is. It is the outcome of events and processes shaped by clashing class and other social forces in particular times and places. It is not the inevitable culmination of laws of history that could not have unfolded otherwise. Nor is it the product of random chance. Consider just one counterfactual scenario: if the Russian Communist Party’s surplus-extracting state of proletarian origin had been overthrown in the early 1920s, it would have been replaced by a horrific counter-revolutionary military dictatorship: “The world would have had a Russian name for Fascism,” as Trotsky once put it. At the same time, communist politics would not have been distorted by Stalinism, and AES would never have existed. The history of the twentieth century would have been dramatically different. 

----
This is an excerpt from the new book Red Flags: A Reckoning with Communism for the Future of the Left (Fernwood Publishing), printed here with permission of the publisher.

The 'Communist' world is not communist and the 'Free' world is not free

5/14/2025

 

Originally published in Briarpatch

Anti-communism is an asset for capitalism’s defenders. But it has not stopped the experience of living under capitalism from making growing numbers of people around the world, especially young people, increasingly critical of capitalism as a way of organizing society. Sometimes, and more often than was the case in the 1990s and at least the first decade of this century, anti-capitalist sentiment is also “anti-anti-communist.” This involves both rejecting anti-communism and adopting an attitude that is at least somewhat sympathetic to the USSR [Union of Soviet Socialist Republics] and similar societies. It should not be difficult to understand why many people critical of capitalism think this way. After all, the capitalist status quo with which we are all too familiar is horrible. Its defenders demonize communism. Thus, sympathy for whatever capitalism’s champions denounce can come easily, especially for people unfamiliar with the societies that anti-communists portray as evil. 

Here I must pause to address the question of what to call societies organized along the lines first developed in the USSR (these societies are distinct from countries governed by parties that claim to be socialist in which private firms continue to control most economic activity, such as Venezuela, Bolivia, and Nicaragua). There is no term for them that is universally accepted. Anti-communists often call them “Communist” (as have a few anti-capitalist radicals critical of them). However, this term has generally been rejected by their governments and supporters, who have maintained that these societies were not yet communist but only moving in the direction of communism as they understood it. They described this social order as “socialist,” often using the term “actually existing socialism” for it. Many communists who are critical of these societies call them “Stalinist.” Some anti-communists have used the same term. For now, this book will refer to them as so-called “actually existing socialism,” abbreviated as AES. Here this is simply a generic neutral term for these societies, used without accepting the claim that these societies were evolving towards communism or any other claim about them. What they were and whether they were in transition to communism are crucial questions that this book addresses. 

Importantly, anti-anti-communism is distinctly different from a perspective that opposes both capitalism and AES as ways of organizing society rooted in domination. It is the latter response that is expressed by a phrase from the radical left in the 1960s: “The ‘Communist’ world is not communist and the ‘Free’ world’ is not free.” But where [Donald] Trump and [Joe Biden] put a minus sign, today’s anti-anti-communists tend to put a plus. When the subject is Communism, anti-anti-communists generally combine sympathy with at least some criticism of the perceived shortcomings of Communist societies and movements. But sometimes contemporary anti-anti-communism flows into outright endorsement of some version of Communism, whether that of [Joseph] Stalin or Mao [Zedong] in the past or China and Cuba today. 

Anti-anti-communism is not a new phenomenon. It was a feature of the culture of part of the New Left of the 1960s and 1970s. “We refuse to be anti-communist,” declared Tom Hayden and Staughton Lynd, central organizers in the mid-1960s of the emerging movement against the U.S. war in Vietnam. Many people in North America and Western Europe who took part in the movements of that time started by adopting an anti-anti-communist stance and went on to become involved with what was often called the New Communist Movement (NCM), a sizeable current of the radical left that looked above all to China for inspiration. 

Today, long after the disintegration of the NCM and the end of the Cold War between the U.S.-led “Free World” and the “Communist” states, anti-anti-communism has a somewhat different flavour, one that more often acknowledges problems in AES societies. Ethnographer Kristin Ghodsee and philosopher Scott Sehon present the situation this way:

"On the Left stand those with some sympathy for socialist ideals and the popular opinion of hundreds of millions    of Russian and east European citizens nostalgic for their state socialist pasts. On the Right stand the committed      anti-totalitarians, both east and west, insisting that all experiments with Marxism will always and inevitably
end with the gulag. Where one side sees shades of grey, the other views the world in black and white."


In other words, Ghodsee and Sehon see anti-anti-communism (their source for which is anthropologist Clifford Geertz, who rejected anti-communism in the Cold War U.S.) as the alternative to a right-wing position. They do not acknowledge a third possibility: refusing both anti-communism and nostalgia for AES and being deeply critical of both capitalism and AES from a left-wing perspective that yearns for a better world. They are explicit about their criticisms of Communism: “this does not mean that we are apologising for, or excusing the atrocities or the lost lives of millions of men and women who suffered for their political beliefs.” After dissecting today’s anti-communism, they conclude: 

"Responsible and rational citizens need to be critical of simplistic historical narratives that rely on the pitchfork        effect to demonise anyone on the Left. We should all embrace Geertz’s idea of an anti-anti-communism in hopes      that critical engagement with the lessons of the 20th century might help us to find a new path that navigates
between, or rises above, the many crimes of both communism and capitalism."


In her 2018 book Why Women Have Better Sex Under Socialism, which has been translated into over a dozen languages, Ghodsee argues that although “state socialism” ultimately failed, for much of the twentieth century it “presented an existential challenge to the worst excesses of the free market.” Its collapse led to the end of efforts to regulate markets and redistribute incomes. Moreover, these socialist experiments had many positive aspects. The state guaranteed citizens employment and housing. It provided public child care and implemented other measures to promote women’s education and participation in paid work, including in jobs that had traditionally not been done by women. “There was a baby in all that bathwater. It’s time we got around to saving it,” Ghodsee concludes. While those public services and rights undoubtedly existed, this way of evaluating them – “cherry pick[ing] from the Soviet policy pantheon,” as theorist Sophie Lewis puts it – treats them as if they can be considered apart from the oppressive features of AES with which they were entangled. This approach is similar to the one taken by people who argue that we should not be anti-capitalist because Western capitalist societies have positive aspects like civil liberties, multi-party elections, and unions through which workers can defend themselves against employers and fight to improve their pay and working conditions. As Lewis observes, Ghodsee never asks “the question of what an anti-capitalist, non-capitalist, post-capitalist society worthy of those names might actually look like.”

In recent years anti-anti-communism has become more common on the left than it was for several decades after the collapse of AES. Often this is a diffuse mood that surfaces in social industry posts. But it also crops up in articles in widely read left-wing publications. For example, in 2022 journalist Liza Featherstone looked to the history of the East Bloc to criticize the U.S.’s failure to guarantee workers any paid vacation time. In an article on the Jacobin website, possibly the most-read English-language radical publication, Featherstone argued that Communism:

"took summer vacation seriously. Long before any other industrialized nations, the Soviet Union’s Labour Code obligated employers to provide two weeks of paid vacation. The 1936 Soviet constitution specifically included a “right to rest.” To that end, the Eastern Bloc communist countries not only provided the time off but invested in affordable vacation spots for workers. In the late 1930s, the government increased spending on resorts, health camps, campgrounds, and other vacation spots, including spas. Some of these offered activities, such as volleyball or mushroom hunting."

This kind of nostalgic response captures the spirit in which today’s anti-anti-communism engages with AES. The anti-anti-communist stance is quite different from one that is ruthlessly critical of social domination and assesses both capitalism and AES from that perspective — the approach once expressed in the previously mentioned slogan “The ‘Communist’ world is not communist and the ‘Free’ world’ is not free.”

The soil of anti-anti-communism today is fertile ground for perspectives that are not just sympathetic to AES but enthusiastic about it. Writer Barnaby Raine observes that

"there is a new if modest proliferation of radicals now who would have baffled 1990s commentators; young people in Europe and North America who want to sound like the old Communists. On podcasts and on social media, in political parties and in unions, they salute authoritarian state power past and present. They speak, they say, in the name of socialism. They amass thousands of followers online. They are not the dwindling band of pensioners who remember subsidised cruises on the Volga. They don an aesthetic of kitsch cheek or unsentimental realism or, somehow, both."

Why does any of this matter today? There is a great deal at stake in how we respond to anti-communism and what we make of AES. If anti-communists are right, attempts to replace capitalism are misguided. If AES was, and in its remaining holdouts still is, a better way of organizing society, then anti-capitalists should look to such societies and the Communist political tradition associated with AES for instruction and inspiration. If AES is not such an alternative, anti-capitalists will need to look elsewhere.

----

*Excerpt for Red Flags: A Reckoning with Communism for the Left provided by Fernwood Publishing

Listening to Victor's Children: An interview with David Camfield

4/24/2025

 
Originally published in Tempest.

Tempest interviews David Camfield about his podcast Victor’s Children and its role in promoting the politics of socialism from below. David lives in Winnipeg, Canada and is a member of the Tempest Collective as well as being a member of the editorial board of Midnight Sun. His most recent book is Red Flags: A Reckoning with Communism for the Future of the Left, an anti-capitalist, anti-authoritarian introduction to the history of the “actually existing socialism” of the former USSR, China, and Cuba. 

Tempest: Can you tell us a little bit about your political background?

David Camfield: I came to radical politics in Ottawa when I was in high school in the late 1980s, mainly through the peace movement and Christian liberation theology. I was fortunate to meet the local branch of the International Socialists (IS), which I joined. In hindsight, the IS had real problems but I got a really good introduction to socialism from below politics and classical marxist theory from the group. Along with its version of Trotskyist orthodoxy I got a streak of commitment to heresy and thinking for ourselves, thanks to a few members. This was invaluable because it later helped me rethink the politics I’d learned in the IS. Movements around abortion access and the 1991 Gulf War were formative experiences for me, and feminist and queer liberation politics were important influences.

I became part of a minority of the IS that concluded not just that the leadership of the IS Tendency (the international network to which the IS belonged) was wrong in important ways about what was happening in the world but that our approach to socialist organization, what we thought of as building a Leninist organization, was flawed. It’d contributed to sectarianism, undemocratic practices, and an internal culture with some really negative features. The IS had also failed to recognize that there was a crisis of working-class self-organization and that there was no vanguard layer of anti-capitalist militants in the working class.

The minority left the IS in 1996 and formed the New Socialist Group (NSG). The NSG evolved and tried to build an organization of independent-thinking, non-sectarian organizers committed to renewing socialism from below politics by learning from movements and ideas they generated. The NSG did some good work, especially in Toronto in the years 2000-2003. I was active in Canadian Union of Public Employees Local 3903, which waged a long but winning strike in 2000-01. In Winnipeg, where I’ve lived since 2003, things have often been pretty slow politically but I’ve been active in a number of activist and socialist projects. I became active in the faculty union at the University of Manitoba once the opportunity to do that arose. For a couple of years I was on the executive of the Winnipeg Labour Council when there was a short-lived opportunity to change it. Late in 2023 I joined the Tempest Collective after it decided to admit people in Canada, since the local socialist group I’d been in had come to an end and I didn’t think any of the multi-city Canadian groups would be politically hospitable for me.

Tempest: You launched Victor’s Children in early 2021 and have just passed fifty episodes. What was the impetus for starting this project?


DC:The political reason I started it was a concern with the weak presence on the Left of the kind of socialism from below politics I support, and because there wasn’t an English-language podcast promoting them. Various kinds of Marxist-Leninist politics had become more influential, and various kinds of Trotskyism were visible, but our kind of politics less so, especially for people new to radical politics. I wanted to promote what, from my perspective, are the best kind of politics for the future.

Tempest:What are the major running themes across the episodes?

DC:That’s an interesting question I haven’t really thought about. I guess one theme is understanding and responding politically to the changing capitalist world we’re living in – a world in which the U.S. and other Western states aren’t the only imperialist powers, in which China is increasingly important and a rising imperialist power. Some of those have been about particular developments in so-called Canada, while many aren’t. Another theme is questions that face radicals today, like moralism, sexual violence, whether we should take jobs as union staffers, and how radicals should approach workplace organizing, which is the topic of an upcoming episode. There have been some episodes on histories I think are worth learning about. Another theme has been offering a socialism from below critique of Stalinism and anti-Western campism. The most recent one of those has been about Domenico Losurdo’s awful neo-Stalinist book Western Marxism, which was recently published in English translation. A few episodes have been about theory—the one with the most listens so far is David McNally (who has the same political background as me) on “Dialectics Demystified,” probably because he can explain complex ideas so clearly.

Tempest:Do you know who’s been listening and where they are?

DC:Unfortunately, I don’t have much sense of who listens (I appreciate emails from listeners but they’re rare). Since the podcast began, about half of the listens have been from Canada, with Toronto, Vancouver and Winnipeg as the leading cities. Most of the rest have been in the U.S., with Chicago the city with the most listens. Next country when it comes to listens is the UK.

Tempest:What have you learned from the guests, or from the experience?

DC:I’ve learned a lot but it all goes into the flow of grist for my mental mill, so to speak, so it’s difficult for me to put my finger on what I’ve learned from doing the podcast specifically. I guess it’s confirmed my belief that there are socialists and other radicals who really want what Victor’s Children tries to offer and who don’t find enough of it out there: serious socialist politics and analysis—different from shallow “easy answer” politics and a lot of the other stuff that’s online—from perspectives that reject social democracy and Marxism-Leninism, presented in relatively accessible, non-academic ways.

Tempest:Why the name, Victor’s Children?

DC:The “Victor” in the name is Victor Serge (1890-1947), the anarchist-turned-Bolshevik-turned-anti-Stalinist-marxist writer. His Memoirs of a Revolutionary is an extraordinary book that influenced me—every socialist should read it because of how Serge writes about so many important experiences he lived through and people he knew or observed. Serge’s idea of “double duty”—“defend the revolution, combat its flaws from within”—and his commitment to lucidity are valuable for us today, I think. I hope the podcast allows the ideas of people who’re in some sense political descendents of Serge, whether or not they think of themselves that way, to reach more people who need these ideas.

Tempest:What specific lessons or insights have you gained about Left media (social media) in producing Victor’s Children?

DC:Only that too few supporters of socialist politics that are neither social democratic/“democratic socialist” nor Marxist-Leninist are making podcasts and producing content on YouTube and other platforms where lots of radicalizing people go for political ideas.

Tempest:More than four years in, how does this project connect with your broader strategic perspective for the Left today?

DC:I think that supporters of socialism from below need to be engaging in the battle of ideas in as many ways as we can that are useful, along with working constructively with other people in workplaces, in communities, and on campuses to strengthen broad organizing that’s as democratic, solidaristic and militant as it can be. Podcasts are one of many ways we should be engaging in the battle of ideas.

Against imperialism, without exception

3/4/2025

 
by David Camfield
originally published by Briarpatch magazine

Since Israel launched its genocidal war on Gaza in October 2023, hundreds of thousands of people around the world have taken action to support Palestine. For many this has been their first experience of a social movement.

Like all experiences of collective action large and sustained enough to deserve to be called a social movement, the Palestine solidarity movement involves a lot of learning as well as action. When people mobilize to change society, we inevitably face questions about how to understand what we’re up against and how to shift it. This hunger for knowledge among people within a social movement is the best kind of learning, one driven by the desire to make change, not to pass a course.

Since autumn 2023 many people have been learning about the history of Palestine, the creation of Israel, Zionism, and settler colonialism. We’ve also been confronted with the question “how does Israel get away with so much violence?” Regrettably, some people have bought into the idea that a Zionist lobby has been able to get Western states to back Israel against the interests and will of those states. The line of thinking that lobby groups can influence supposedly neutral states is a staple of mainstream political science and, in this case, can easily slide into the anti-Semitic idea of powerful Jews wielding malign influence. 

Fortunately, plenty of people have also been encountering explanations that root Western support for Israeli state violence and settler colonialism in how global capitalism is organized: theories of imperialism.

Political economist Adam Hanieh puts it well: pointing to the influence of the Israel lobby is “a false and politically dangerous viewpoint that gets the relationship between Western states and Israel fundamentally wrong.” Instead, “the unstinting support of the U.S. and leading European states for Israel” stems from how settler-colonial “Israel has been crucial to the maintenance of Western imperial interests – notably those of the U.S. – in the Middle East. It has performed this role alongside the other major pillar of U.S. control in the region: the oil-rich Gulf Arab monarchies, principally Saudi Arabia. The fast-evolving relationships between the Gulf, Israel, and the U.S. are essential to understanding the current moment, especially given the relative weakening of American global power.”

Speaking to the U.S. Congress in 1986, Joe Biden was frank: “Were there not an Israel, the United States of America would have to invent an Israel to protect her interest in the region.” 
It’s vital to recognize that Western support for Israel is so strong because of how the U.S. and other governments can rely on Israel to act against movements and governments that might challenge their interests in an important oil-producing region. It’s also crucial to see where this piece fits in the puzzle of a capitalist world that’s organized in a hierarchy of states locked in both economic and geopolitical competition.

The U.S. sits at the top of this imperialist order. Below it are other imperialist states including the U.K., Germany, France, China, Russia, Canada, and Australia. Below them are sub-imperialist states with regional power, followed by most of the countries of the world. 

But some explanations of imperialism that people encounter have a major flaw: they deny that there are imperialist powers outside “the West.” They fail to grasp that, as the recent book China in Global Capitalism demonstrates, China is a rising imperialist rival to the United States. Russia, as well, while economically much weaker than China, still has considerable military might.

Believing that only Western powers are imperialist fits with the outlook that “the enemy of my enemy is my friend,” which appeals to some supporters of Palestine. That outlook leads people to bad places. One such place is refusing solidarity with or even empathy for people who’re oppressed by states whose rulers clash with the United States. Instead, we should side with oppressed people everywhere without politically supporting either Western powers or governments in conflict with them.

Take the case of Ukraine. It’s reasonable to point to the hypocrisy of Western governments that oppose Russia’s war and occupation in Ukraine while backing Israel to the hilt. There’s also nothing wrong with questioning uncritical portrayals of the Ukrainian government, which is neoliberal, pro-NATO, and pro-Israel. Or with opposing how Western governments are using Russia’s war to justify higher military spending. Or with criticizing how the U.S. has used the war to try to weaken Russia.

But none of this should get in the way of taking sides: we should be in unconditional solidarity with Ukrainian resistance to Russian imperialism, as with all resistance to imperialism. As one slogan puts it, “From Ukraine to Palestine, Occupation is a Crime!” In both cases – as in all struggles against injustice – we can be in solidarity with the oppressed without endorsing the political forces that lead them.

In a recent interview, feminist and socialist Barbara Smith, a member of the Combahee River Collective in the U.S. in the 1970s and co-author of its influential statement, talks of trying “to practise solidarity without exception” rather than “selective solidarity.” “We can and must oppose occupation from Ukraine to Palestine as part of a common struggle for collective liberation,” Smith insists. This is the approach we should take in a world in which rivalry between imperialist powers is growing more intense.

Settler colonialism and socialist politics – a contribution to the debate

7/28/2024

 
by David Camfield
originally published in rs21

The recent series of articles on the rs21 website about settler colonialism (see note at end) raises important questions for socialists, especially for those of us in countries such as the US, the Canadian state, Australia, and New Zealand. My aim in this contribution is to pose these questions as clearly as possible and briefly suggest how supporters of socialism from below should approach them.

The first question is this: Is a distinctive form of oppression created when a colonizing society establishes settlers on a permanent basis in a colonized territory, dispossessing the Indigenous inhabitants?

I think there is overwhelming historical evidence that this has happened in many parts of the world, with the establishment of Israel and Chinese rule over the Uyghurs in Xinjiang being some of the most recent cases. This is settler colonialism, distinct from the franchise colonialism of, for example, British rule in India. As Sai Englert puts it, in such situations:

Settlers settle. They (aim to) make colonised lands their permanent home and in the process enter into continuous and sustained conflict with the Indigenous populations, whom they (attempt to) dispossess, exploit and/or eliminate.[1]

What does settler colonialism mean today?

The second question is more controversial among socialists: Does settler colonialism still exist in capitalist societies that have changed enormously since settler colonialism was established? Many socialists agree that Israel today is settler colonial, but what about the US, the Canadian state, Australia, and New Zealand?

Steve Leigh argues that these

…are capitalist societies with capital accumulation based on the exploitation of the multi-racial/multi-ethnic/multi-gendered working class. Capital accumulation now comes from extracting surplus value from the working class, not primarily from continued land theft from the Indigenous.

This description is accurate but it does not change the fact that capitalism in these societies is still mediated by settler colonialism, as well as by racial, gender, and other forms of oppression. The conditions in which capital accumulation and the rest of social life happens still include the dispossession of Indigenous peoples. In spite of talk about reconciliation and despite limited legal reforms, the state continues to deprive Indigenous nations of almost all the lands in which they lived before the arrival of European colonisers. It also still denies them the authority to govern themselves. The way settler colonialism is organised has changed, in large part due to the struggles of Indigenous peoples themselves. The composition of the non-Indigenous populations has changed enormously due to immigration from Asia, Africa, and Latin America. But none of this has made settler colonialism evaporate.

For example, in the Canadian state, where I live, governments and many corporations and other institutions apologise for past wrongs, talk about reconciliation with Indigenous peoples, and acknowledge them culturally. But the most the state is willing to concede is ‘limited recognition of Indigenous rights and Indigenous participation in decision-making.’ This falls far short of creating an equal relationship between Indigenous nations and the nation that dominates within the state, as well as the Quebec nation (which oppresses Indigenous peoples but is subordinate to the dominant nation). Creating truly equal relationships would require unmaking Indigenous dispossession, on which this society was founded.

Political implications

​
The third question is where I think most of the fuel for the debate comes from: What are the political implications of the continued existence of settler colonialism?
Socialists who deny that certain societies are settler colonial today worry, as Jordan Humphreys puts it, about ‘writing off the revolutionary potential of the non-Indigenous working class’ in them. I don’t think settler colonialism negates that potential, and it’s a mistake to deny that settler colonialism still exists out of fear of what the political implications might be.

One implication we need to grapple with is that in some societies today settler colonialism confers advantages (privilege) on workers who are both accepted as members of the dominant nation(s) and at the same time exploited and oppressed by capitalism and various other forms of oppression interwoven with it. Although the specifics are different, this resembles the way members of the working class who belong to other dominant groups (such as white people, cis men, and to a lesser degree cis women) are given certain advantages. From the perspective of socialism from below, settler colonial privilege is contradictory for the working class (as are all advantages conferred on layers of the working class that belong to dominant groups). It gives members of the dominant nation material and psychological advantages relative to Indigenous people. However, it encourages them to support an abominable social order that harms them. It’s also corrosive for working-class power. This makes it poison bait for the working class.

The scale of the advantages – what those people who receive them would have to give up if settler colonialism were to be uprooted — isn’t the same in each case. It varies, and it changes over time. That’s why it needs be analysed concretely. The advantages conferred by settler colonialism on Jewish Israeli workers in Israel today are much greater than those given to non-Indigenous workers in the Canadian state.[2] But these do exist. To give one example, new immigrants in the city I live in sometimes feel encouraged to punch down at First Nations people because doing that makes some citizens more likely to treat them as ‘real Canadians’, which can help in the competition for jobs and housing.

Settler colonial privilege is a reality that has the effect of encouraging workers of the dominant nation to endorse and defend settler colonialism. It’s one reason that we can expect Indigenous people will lead struggles against settler colonialism, just as we expect trans people to lead struggles against their oppression, people who experience racism to lead the fight against racial oppression, and so on.

This doesn’t mean that non-Indigenous workers can’t be won to the struggle against settler colonialism. Doing that tends to be easier when the self-organised movements and struggles of Indigenous people are stronger, and also when there are more united efforts by non-Indigenous and Indigenous people around wages, working conditions, or other issues. But such united fights that don’t target settler colonial social arrangements are different from united struggles against colonialism.[3]

Fortunately, Indigenous opposition to settler colonialism is having a radicalising effect on some non-Indigenous people in the four societies on which I’m focussing here. All socialists should celebrate, support, and learn from it. Non-Indigenous socialists should build political relationships with Indigenous anti-colonial fighters. Over time, this could make non-Indigenous socialists better opponents of settler colonialism and persuade more Indigenous radicals to take socialism seriously.

How it ends


This brings us to the question of what would it take to end settler colonialism? The answer to this is not the same in every settler colonial society. In my view, the situation in historic Palestine today is quite different from the US, the Canadian state, Australia, and New Zealand, with very important consequences for socialist strategy.[4] In those four countries it is very unlikely that settler colonialism could be uprooted except as part of a transition towards socialism launched by the working class, non-Indigenous and Indigenous together, in which an autonomous Indigenous movement plays a very active role. In these societies capitalism and settler colonialism are deeply interwoven. Indigenous people are numerically small minorities of the population and therefore have limited social power. An Indigenous movement would be essential to ensure that the process of moving towards socialism was liberatory for Indigenous people. Although the size and social power of the Indigenous (Black) working class made it possible to dismantle settler colonialism in South Africa without breaking with capitalism, this is highly unlikely in these societies, although reforms that weaken colonial oppression can be won within capitalism.
​

Finally, Marxists shouldn’t write in blanket terms about ‘settler colonial theory’. There are many problems with non-Marxist theories of settler colonialism.[5] But Marxists should integrate the insights found in them into a better historical materialist understanding of settler colonialism that can inform struggles for liberation. There is some similarity here with how Marxists should relate to feminism. Anti-feminist Marxism has done a lot of damage, acting as a set of blinkers that keep socialists from learning from feminism in order to develop better feminist Marxist theory and practice. An ‘anti-settler colonial theory’ Marxism is a barrier to learning from radical Indigenous thinkers and some other thinkers who oppose settler colonialism as such. Denying that settler colonialism exists today outside Palestine is a mistake with bad consequences for socialist politics. Such a Marxism will repel anti-colonial radicals with whom socialists should be in dialogue.[6]

David Canfield runs the website Prairie Red and the podcast Victor’s Children, and is a member of the editorial board of Midnight Sun and a member of Tempest.

----

This debate began with a two-part interview with Sai Englert, which can be found here and here . Australian socialist Jordan Humphreys then wrote a reply, which Sai Englert responded to here. American socialist Steve Leigh then continued the debate with a further review of Sai Englert’s book.

[1] Sai Englert, Settler Colonialism: An Introduction (London: Pluto Press, 2022), pp. 5-6

[2] I touch on these in my ‘Colonialism and the Working Class in Canada’: https://www.prairiered.ca/archive/colonialism-and-the-working-class-in-canada

[3] A point made clearly by Sai Englert’s reply to Humphreys: ‘Debate – A Response on Settler Colonialism’:  https://www.rs21.org.uk/2024/05/12/debate-a-response-on-settler-colonialism/

[4] Settler colonialism also exists in many Latin American societies, where Indigenous peoples often make up much larger proportions of countries’ populations than they do in the states I am focussing on here. Charlie Post and I have addressed the case of Israel in ‘What Would It Take to Win in Palestine?’: https://tempestmag.org/2024/01/what-would-it-take-to-win-in-palestine/

[5] Many of these are identified in Jack Davies, ‘The World Turned Outside In: Settler Colonial Studies and Political Economy’: https://www.historicalmaterialism.org/article/the-world-turned-outside-in/
​

[6] I encourage readers to listen to episode 42 of the podcast Victor’s Children: ‘Settler Colonialism, Capitalism, and Indigenous Liberation: An Indigenous Marxist View’: https://soundcloud.com/user-737267994/episode-42-settler-colonialism-capitalism-and-indigenous-liberation-an-indigenous-marxist-view

How should socialists think about political tradition?

4/9/2024

 
Originally published in Tempest.

One way we can think about tradition is who inspires us. Traditions of struggle against exploitation and oppression go back thousands of years. Think of peasant revolts around the world; the resistance of Indigenous people on Turtle Island (a term for North America mainly used by some Indigenous nations) that’s been going on since Europeans arrived; the resistance of enslaved Africans and their descendants; anti-slavery fighters like John Brown; the Industrial Workers of the World early in the twentieth century (a high point in the history of the working-class movement in the U.S.); and so many more down to the present. Which of these inspires us most or resonates most strongly with us depends on our experiences, our ideas about who we are, and our politics. When, in I Hope We Choose Love, Kai Cheng Thom urges people on the Left to take the idea of honour seriously, she writes “Honour means acting in a way that your ancestors would be proud of, even if it requires personal sacrifices to do so.” Who we consider to be our ancestors can include people from these various traditions.

Another way of thinking about tradition is more specific: Where do we get our politics from? Where do we get our ideas about our goals, our strategy, and our tactics? That’s what this article is about.

However, before tackling that question I want to make two initial points. First, for revolutionary victory, socialists need a developed and coherent strategy for how this can be achieved: in other words, a program. Second, it’s impossible for socialists to develop a genuine program unless we can synthesize the experiences of many socialist workplace and community organizers from across the range of sectors of the working class and oppressed people in our society and fuse them with the lessons of history distilled as theory. No socialist organization on Turtle Island is large and rooted enough to be able to make such a synthesis. For that reason, none of the organizations as they exist today can develop anything worth calling a program. Tempest doesn’t have a program; all we have is some ideas about goals, strategy, and tactics. This is true of all far-left groups in this part of the world, no matter what some of them claim.

We need ideas about goals, strategy, and tactics to help us answer the political questions we face. Our answers are provisional because they can change as the world changes and as we learn—they’re not set in stone. We should have an attitude of revolutionary humility about our ideas. There are some things we can and should be certain about, since the lessons of some past victories, defeats, and other experiences are so clear. One of these is that to start a transition to a classless and stateless society of freedom, what’s needed are social revolutions made by the working class that establish its democratic rule. But the history of the socialist left tells us that we’re no doubt wrong about some things about which we feel certain today. Today, our outlook about what to do next in our society is limited by how we’re mainly drawing on the experiences of a very small number of people in a time when social struggle is for the most part at a low level. (There are important exceptions, above all at present the Palestine solidarity movement.)
​

What questions do we face? Let’s start with three big ones. First, what kind of society are we ultimately aiming for? In other words, what’s our political horizon? Second, what would it take to break with capitalism and start a transition to that kind of society? And third, what kind of broad organizations of workers and oppressed people and what kind of socialist political organizations would be needed to make that happen?

Aren’t those questions about far-off, long-term matters? Yes, but they’re still important. Our answers serve as a compass that points toward where we want the working class to ultimately arrive, though we certainly don’t claim to have a path mapped out. Our ideas about what it would take to break with capitalism and start a transition based on democratic planning towards socialism/communism have direct implications for the here and now (Marx used the terms socialism and communism interchangeably, and never thought of socialism as a stage before communism. That idea comes mainly from Stalinism. On this, see Peter Hudis, Marx’s Concept of the Alternative to Capitalism.)

That’s because our ideas about these long-term issues should inform how we answer more immediate questions. For example, is it important to build democratic member-run membership organizations of the Palestine solidarity movement? (Yes!) To change unions, should socialists prioritize getting elected into executive positions and hired into staff jobs? (No!) Is there a wing of the capitalist class we should seek to include in alliances against the far right? (No!)

So where should we go for our political ideas? In the twentieth century, three major political traditions that considered themselves anti-capitalist dominated the Left. They all still have influence today, though less than they used to. One is parliamentary socialism. This is the dominant politics of the Democratic Socialists of America. The second is Marxism-Leninism.

This is the state ideology that took shape in the USSR in the 1920s and was spread globally through the Communist movement and by the rulers of China and other states modelled on the USSR. The last tradition is Third World nationalist socialism, of which the United Socialist Party of Venezuela founded under the leadership of Hugo Chavez is one example. All three of these traditions treat state ownership of the economy as the basis of socialism. All three act as if socialism could be achieved by a minority (a party or armed forces) acting on behalf of the masses, as a substitute for them (substitutionism), either with or without some kind of revolution. (To be clear, mass socialist political organizations are necessary for revolution, as are new institutions of radically democratic popular power in workplaces and communities. The role of socialist political organizations is to provide direction in the struggle for the working class as a whole to take control of society through such new institutions.) These are three versions of socialism from above.

Fortunately, there are other traditions. The one we should start from—which doesn’t mean it’s got all the answers to today’s political questions—is a kind of revolutionary socialism with several core ideas that distinguish it. First, our goal is a classless and stateless society of freedom in which people democratically plan production to meet their needs and repair humanity’s relationship with the rest of nature. Second, to start a transition towards that kind of society would take a revolutionary rupture that breaks the existing state and establishes working-class rule in the form of new radically democratic institutions of popular power. Third, such a transition would have to be a liberatory process carried out by ordinary people themselves. In other words, social revolution and the transition to socialism would involve the self-emancipation of the working class. No party or other minority acting on behalf of the class can substitute for the rule of the working class itself. One label for this kind of politics is socialism from below, but what matters is the political content, not the term.

It’s because of these core ideas that we can say,

"Meaningful action, for revolutionaries, is whatever increases the confidence, the autonomy, the initiative, the participation, the solidarity, the equalitarian tendencies and the self-activity of the masses and whatever assists in their demystification. Sterile and harmful action is whatever reinforces the passivity of the masses, their apathy, their cynicism, their differentiation through hierarchy, their alienation, their reliance on others to do things for them and the degree to which they can therefore be manipulated by others — even by those allegedly acting on their behalf." 1

In the most generous interpretation, these were the politics of Karl Marx and Frederick Engels and, to name some important figures and forces from over a century ago, Rosa Luxemburg, the Bolsheviks, and others on the left wing of the socialist movement before the Russian Revolution, like Eugene Debs in the U.S. After the Russian Revolution, most supporters of these politics united in the Communist International. Those who remained committed to these politics sooner or later came to recognize that, under Joseph Stalin and his successors, the USSR and other so-called “socialist” societies weren’t “building socialism” and their rulers needed to be overthrown. These included Leon Trotsky and socialists for whom his ideas were important. Some of them then tried to go beyond some of the ideas of Trotsky and Trotskyism, like the idea that small socialist groups should try to organize themselves by applying a model developed for  sizeable revolutionary parties—the “micro-party” approach that Tempest rightly rejects.

There were also other anti-Stalinist Marxists, including a group in Russia called the Democratic Centralists and, in Spain, the Workers Party of Marxist Unification (Spanish initials: POUM). A minority of anarchists are part of this tradition too. Some of the people and groups mentioned were more consistent than others in applying a politics of working-class self-emancipation and rejecting substitutionism. And some strands of the tradition have been more insightful than others.


Supporters of these politics were nearly wiped out by fascism, Stalinism, and Cold War anti-communism between the 1930s and 1950s. The survivors were marginalized, which damaged their ability to act and think politically. In the 1960s and 1970s new forces took up these politics or were influenced by them--Walter Rodney, for instance. Unfortunately, in the decades that followed, these forces were then set back—as was the entire radical Left—by major defeats that capitalists and their states inflicted on unions, social movements, and the exploited and oppressed around the world.

We should think about this tradition as a trove of political resources, not an identity. (Capitalism today pushes us to obsess about identity in narrow and static ways.) It’s an essential starting point. But its existing resources are far from perfect, and they aren’t sufficient for the politics we need today. We also shouldn’t be uncritical of this tradition: Its supporters’ answers to political questions have sometimes been wrong. Sometimes its supporters’ political practice left a lot to be desired—sectarianism has long been a problem for many political traditions. And sometimes they’ve been wrong about significant issues of analysis even when their politics were generally solid. A good example of this is Lenin’s mistaken idea that reformism—politics that seek only reforms within the existing social order2—is influential above all because of a  “labor aristocracy,” a minority of workers supposedly bribed by imperialist super-profits.

What’s more, the best answers of the past don’t necessarily answer the questions that face us today. For example, the theory of permanent (uninterrupted) revolution developed by Trotsky in the early 20th century was an important guide to socialist revolution in countries where capitalism wasn’t yet dominant. But today every society in the world is capitalist, and the theory has been superseded.

What’s still important is rejecting the idea of dividing the struggle for socialism into separate stages: first, a national liberation (or “democratic”) stage where capitalism isn’t to be challenged, followed, at some far-off day, a socialist stage. This idea has done enormous damage to the Left globally. It leads to socialists supporting governments that, regardless of what they say they’re doing, are administering capitalism through capitalist states. Examples include the African National Congress government in South Africa (which includes members of the South African Communist Party) and the Movement Towards Socialism government in Bolivia.

There are no useful answers to be found in this tradition to some questions that face us today, after the passing of the classical workers’ movement. Above all, we won’t find answers about how to contribute to building unity, solidarity, democratic self-organization, and support for radical politics in a deeply divided and atomized working class in conditions shaped by contemporary capitalism, including the social industry and the deepening ecological crisis. But there are ideas that can help us as we work on this in cooperation with people who are influenced by various political traditions. One of these is the strategic concept of the united front. This theory was developed as a guide to action for revolutionary socialist parties that needed to relate to workers who supported larger and more influential reformist parties, and to the leaders of those parties. It can’t simply be applied by much smaller socialist groups in very different circumstances. Still, it’s valuable.

There are also valuable ideas from other traditions that supporters of this kind of socialism should draw on to help us develop our politics. For example, to take into account how racism confers advantages on white workers, we should build on the insights of W.E.B. DuBois and those socialists who most seriously grappled with those insights in the 1960s and 1970s, like the Sojourner Truth Organization. And there are valuable ideas to learn from today’s abolitionist, anti-racist feminism, and trans liberation politics.

Finally, we should aspire to develop this kind of revolutionary socialism in ways that confront the challenges of our times. Our task isn’t to guard a faith, a static tradition. We need to think for ourselves, collectively, using anti-racist, queer, feminist, and Marxist analyses of the society we’re trying to change. Yet, let’s remember that real advances for socialist ideas about strategy and tactics can only come from participating in and learning from upsurges of mass struggle. It’s those struggles that make real advances in political ideas possible.

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1. This quotation doesn’t mean I entirely agree with the politics of the group whose statement I’m quoting.

Politics in a Burning World:Review of The Exhausted of the Earth

3/14/2024

 
by David Camfield
Originally published in Spectre

Review
​The Exhausted of the Earth: Politics in a Burning World
by Ajay Singh Chaudhary
REPEATER BOOKS
2024

It is now a cliché in some circles to say that all politics is climate politics. Yet it is also common to not take this seriously. The ways in which climate change is affecting society are not always easy to recognize, and left politics often fails to seriously integrate the climate dimension. Moreover, Marxist attempts to directly address climate change and other aspects of the ecological crisis are often insular. As Ajay Singh Chaudhary observes in The Exhausted of the Earth, “Marxological debates – incredibly prolific in eco-Marxist literature – aren’t particularly germane to climate politics.”1 Chaudhary’s book, intended as a corrective to those trends, offers much that is helpful for thinking about the politics of climate change.

The Exhausted of the Earth situates its arguments against the threat of right-wing climate realism—understood as “a political-ecological scenario of the concentration, preservation, and enhancement of political and economic power.”2 Such a scenario, Chaudhary argues, “is not only plausible and possible, but probable.”3 Today, right-wing responses to climate change often don’t involve outright denial; they simply aim for “maximal extraction for maximal maintenance or cash out that much better.”4

A world shaped by right-wing climate realism therefore wouldn’t require “some cataclysmic break”; we are already accustomed to euphemisms like “net zero” (which is “often not zero; it is continued emissions and ‘magic’”) and to “realistic” policies like the Paris Agreement, which are “predicated on fitting genuinely admirable and aggressive goals in tune with broad climate scientific understanding into a framework that assumes only modest – at best – deviations from ‘dominant’ socioeconomic conditions.”5 Right-wing climate realism would simply entail “another intensification of the existing world,” with vast inequalities, controls on migration, repression, and social murder becoming qualitatively worse.6 Because of the structures of capitalist class power, including imperialism, “the world we actually know and the one we can observe through the historical record makes the ‘politics of the armed lifeboat’ far from a bad gamble for those whose stake promises a payout.”7

However, Chaudhary also suggests that most people will not be allowed on that lifeboat and that it would be a hellish vessel for its proletarian crew. He clearly demonstrates that capitalism today is increasingly destructive for people and the rest of nature: “Even with anemic growth rates, every little bit of real capital accumulation requires yet more inputs, more extreme extraction, increased dispossession, and new ‘sacrifice zones’ – completely given over to exhaustion and debilitation,” and with “a necessarily ever-increasing speed-up.”8 Capital is neither evolving towards a non-ecocidal relationship with nature nor lightening the burdens it places on most people; on the contrary, we are burning up and burning out. Rightly noting “how income and wealth at US median levels does not translate into standard-of-living or quality-of-life conditions,” Chaudhary argues that “for the first time in modern history, there are majorities” in both imperialist and imperialized countries “whose most mundane, material interests align.”9

Accordingly, Chaudhary argues for “left-wing climate realism,” “the politics of a world relieved from social, economic, and ecological despair and exhaustion.”10 By realism he means a politics that takes seriously “how ends and means relate in the world as it stands, how existing power works, and how these might change.”11 This emphasis is important, because the false hope that the Bidens and Trudeaus of the world can be persuaded or nudged into something other than right-wing climate realism still persists. Crucially, Chaudhary also refuses the “conviction that it is simply ‘more’ or ‘less’ of this life – of wealthy capitalist modernity – that defines the boundaries of the politically possible,” an assumption accepted by most of the reformist left and far too many on the revolutionary left and in between.12

From this position, he conducts a welcome polemic against “Climate Lysenkoism”: “a broad range of self-ascribed ‘left’ and ‘Marxist’ perspectives that subordinate both natural scientific and historical realities to a quasi-mystical technophilia and an ahistorical romance of the mid-twentieth-century Northern nationalist welfare state.”13 He focuses on two left ecomodernist writers with significant profiles on the Anglosphere left (not least through their writing in Jacobin), Leigh Phillips and Matthew Huber. Chaudhary hits the nail on the head in criticizing their calls for “more ‘stuff,’ more ‘growth,’ more ‘progress’—each term accepted in its capitalist meaning, simply redecorated as ‘socialism.’”14 Left ecomodernism offers its own versions of distracting mirages first put forward by or on behalf of some sectors of capital, such as counting on the large-scale use of carbon capture and storage (CCS) and greatly increasing the use of nuclear power. These politics easily lead its supporters to tail those officials of energy workers’ unions who, sadly, are in blinkered collaboration with their employers. Yet an alternative course for labour is possible: Chaudhary points to unions that have “fought tooth and nail in concert with environmental social movements” for inspiration.15

Instead of capitulating to short-sighted conservatism among workers, Chaudary affirms C.L.R. James’s argument—originally made with respect to Toussaint Louverture during the Haitian Revolution—that it is dangerous to explain to the masses the true difficulty of their situation, “but even more dangerous not to explain.”16 Chaudhary also argues for the left to take seriously the “affects, feelings, passions, and emotions all vital to political possibility” and “the ‘social desire’ for the world to be otherwise” felt by exhausted people.17 Instead of fantasies about nuclear-powered green growth, he proposes an orientation toward the “minor paradise” of a “sustainable global human ecological niche” based on a rapid planned just transition from fossil fuels to renewable energy, decommodified access to necessities, agroecological food systems, and a shift of power and resources to the Global South and to the workers of the world.18 In such a world, most people could live better, slower, freer lives than they do now, without blasting across all the planetary boundaries that many ecologists urge humanity to respect.

In advancing left-wing climate realism, Chaudhary also offers a scathing critique of the ideology of resilience, “a management strategy and apology for the status quo.”19 Instead of resilience, he argues for the politicization of exhaustion. All over the world, we find exploited people who, in various ways, agree with US Civil Rights movement leader Fannie Lou Hamer: “I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired.”20 They are “the historical bloc, the mass political subject” that can be brought together across differences to fight for what needs to be won.21 The goal of left climate realism can be thought of as in some ways like the abolition of slavery in the US, given how much wealth would have to be destroyed and redistributed and how it would take something like civil war to attain.

In thinking about the changes needed, Chaudhary emphasizes that we’re not starting from scratch and don’t need high-tech fantasies; there are many examples in the world today that could be expanded. These include promising forms of agriculture, ways of organizing urban life, and building techniques like those that help structures stay cool without power-gobbling air conditioning. The key point is that “the material potential for human flourishing ha[s] long since been achieved within global capitalist development.”22

I have emphasized what is of real value in The Exhausted of the Earth. However, in addition to a few questionable ideas about historical matters, such as scorning the claim that China under Mao was qualitatively similar to the USSR, the book has some significant weaknesses that are directly relevant to “politics in a burning world.”23 Chaudhary characterizes capitalism as forever stuck in low GDP growth, but this assumption (which shapes his outlook) is unwarranted; the system may well never again perform as it did during the long boom after the Second World War, and since the 2007–09 Great Recession it’s been unable to create conditions for a return to higher rates of profit and investment, but that does not mean it could not create such conditions at enormous cost to most people and the rest of nature.

Continuing a concerning trend on part of the ecosocialist left, Chaudhary also denies that China is an imperialist power (he asserts at one point that this is a “pure myth”) and refuses to see China for what it is: a fossil capitalist society whose ruling class is weaker than their US rivals but equally an enemy of the global working class.24 In a similar vein, he asserts that “most Global South states are committed to…a form of the politics of exhaustion, but lacking a path beyond the layered caste system of the global economy.”25 This is an unconvincing view of capitalist states that are imperialized by the global system, but whose governments administer capitalism even while signing on to climate justice declarations or criticizing Western imperialism.

Alongside these consequential mischaracterizations, some parts of the argument are insufficiently developed. Chaudhary’s case for fighting for “minor paradise” is compelling, but the relationship between such a society, capitalism, and transition to ecosocialism is not clear. Saying that it wouldn’t be “a fully classless” society is reasonable, but why would “features of a fully socialist society… actually be impediments” to “socioecological transformation”?26 How would the “minor paradise” be “a ‘lateral’ project all its own”?27 Here the book’s brief discussions are lacking.

Moreover, Chaudhary does not grapple with crucial questions about goals and strategy. For example, what changes in class relations and the organization of production would be required to build the “minor paradise”? What would it take to bring them about? What would the historical bloc forged by supporters of left-wing climate realism need to do? What could probably be won through struggle as reforms under capitalism, and what would require breaking with capitalism and starting a transition? Its discussion of tactics, including attacks on property, is limited, and it seems to advocate a form of green popular frontism in which some sections of capital can be allies of left-wing climate realism.28

The book’s emphasis on the political importance of emotions is smart, and its attention to the global experience of exhaustion is perceptive. Chaudhary thinks that this experience of exhaustion can be channelled into urgently needed organized support for an internationalist politics of left climate realism. Regrettably, The Exhausted of the Earth doesn’t have much to say about how this is possible, and what it does have to say is sometimes unsatisfying. Nevertheless, this book’s ideas about many important issues are powerful and eloquently expressed. People who appreciate that “We have yet to mount the challenge to stop fossil capital, to reverse the extractive circuit, to seize the opportunity found in crisis” and that “crises are not in short supply” would do well to read it.
29

Class Politics for Times of Deepening Global Crisis

2/10/2024

 
Originally published in Midnight Sun.

In recent years, there’s been growing interest in working-class politics on the left in so-called Canada. Inspiration has come from several sources. These include the 2017-18 workers’ rights movement in Ontario, one legacy of which is the Justice for Workers network in that province; strikes such as those of the education workers in the Ontario School Board Council of Unions in 2022; anger at ruthless bosses and landlords; and developments in the US that include a rise in workers unionizing, striking, and organizing to change their unions, along with Bernie Sanders’ version of social democratic politics. But what kind of working-class politics should socialists try to advance?

What we talk about when we talk about the working class

First, who are we talking about when we talk about the working class? The answer shouldn’t be only about who currently identifies as “working class.” How people think of themselves matters, but we shouldn’t make the mistake of assuming that how people act is determined by how they self-identify.

Capitalism slots people into groups structured in relation to how goods and services are produced and to other such groups. At root, this is what class is about. It’s not only about your job title or how much money you make. It’s about where you fit in the system of producing everything that keeps society going. What you’re paid to do or what credentials your employer requires aren’t the issue either. The fact that so many jobs now require a university degree just means that more workers have to shoulder the costs of obtaining one (or more than one). 

Almost no one gets by in Canada by farming for subsistence. Most people don’t own a business, even a really small one. Most of us have to sell our ability to work to an employer in exchange for pay. Most of this wage labour, whether paid hourly or as a salary, is legally regulated economic activity. There’s also working under the table, in what social scientists call the “informal sector,” which is where most workers in Canada without immigration status toil. In many countries of the Global South, most of the working class is in the informal sector. Most workers have very little control over how they carry out their assigned tasks. Others have a bit more. A small minority still have a lot of control over their work processes, which employers are keen to erode using the latest surveillance technologies.

Sometimes people who are really working for wages aren’t legally classified as employees. For example, think of a computer programmer hired by a small company as an independent contractor until the company’s owners decide it’s worth the additional costs associated with hiring them as an employee. Or consider drivers for companies such as Uber and SkipTheDishes, whose owners fight against those drivers becoming reclassified as employees because that’d make their labour more expensive and give them basic workplace rights. Such contractors aren’t small business owners like self-employed tradespeople. They’re workers whose incomes are concealed wages.

Most people who are working for wages aren’t given any authority over other workers by their bosses. In some cases, though, their place in an authoritarian workplace hierarchy gives them some supervisory power over other workers. This makes them “superior cogs in the machine” controlled by the employer, to quote French socialist Daniel Singer. This isn’t anything new – in the 1800s the skilled workers who formed early craft unions sometimes hired, paid, and fired their helpers. It’s only when people exercise a substantial amount of managerial power, as middle managers do, that they have a qualitatively different relationship to production than other employees. That puts them outside the working class.

This way of thinking about class allows us to see how the working class is broader – but also more internally stratified and divided – than most people realize. Operating with ideas about class inherited from an earlier era in the history of capitalism is unhelpful for organizers. Capitalism is still capitalism, but patterns of work have changed since the long economic boom that followed the Second World War. Our understanding of class relations needs to try to grasp them as they exist today. There’s no reason to treat people who work outside of manufacturing, construction, and transportation – or outside the private sector altogether – as not part of the working class. Working at home or having more than a little control over one’s work doesn’t in itself place people outside the ranks of the working class either. Nor does owning a house. 

Teachers, nurses, social workers, and other workers in “professional” jobs shouldn’t be seen as belonging to a “professional-managerial class” (PMC) distinct from the working class, as some socialists believe. Such workers are not employed to make profits for capital except when they work for private firms. And we shouldn’t confuse the function of workers’ jobs – the purpose of the activity employers pay workers to perform – with their place within class relations. It’s true that teachers and social workers often enforce the discipline of the state against students and clients, respectively. This is harmful, but the conflicts here are generally conflicts within a hierarchically divided working class, not between different classes. That said, what cops and prison guards are paid to do – maintain the capitalist social order with violence – is something else altogether. Those individuals are used to prevent challenges to that order and repress them when they break out, so they shouldn’t be part of unions with other workers.

The big picture, then, is that most people in “advanced” capitalist countries (and many other societies) survive by selling their labour power to employers and have little or no managerial authority. There are also unwaged people who depend on the wages of others, and people who are not currently employed. All together, they make up the working class. That some wage earners also make at least a little money in another way, such as by selling goods they make at home, isn’t new. They’re still part of the broad, divided class that labours for capital and the capitalist state or in their shadows.

Why the working class is central to a revolutionary socialist politics

For those who think the most effective means of changing society is the ballot box, the importance of the working class is primarily a matter of numbers: the working class is everywhere the majority of people. But revolutionary socialists recognize that even the most radical government couldn’t legislate a break with capitalism and the start of a transition towards socialism. This shapes how we understand the working class’s role.  

The reason the working class belongs at the centre of a socialist politics isn’t that workers are more likely to endorse ideas about radical social change than members of other classes. Nor is it about who’s most willing to engage in militant action today. Some people who depend on a paycheque to get by are up for it right now, but most are understandably hesitant about getting arrested. 

The reason the working class is central to a revolutionary socialist politics is its potential to transform society in a profoundly democratic, bottom-up way. Its conditions of labour are more conducive to collective action and self-organization than those of peasants or self-employed people. The antagonism between labour and capital that’s built into capitalism pushes workers to struggle together, at the same time as competition and divisions among workers push in other directions. When workers’ struggles escalate and assert the needs of people over profit (or assert the needs of people over state spending restraint), they begin to point toward a different way of organizing society. By withdrawing their labour, workers can make capitalism grind to a halt. When workers take over their workplaces and start running them democratically, they show in practice that we don’t need bosses. This can also hint at how the production of goods and services across society could be reorganized on a democratic and collective basis. 

As revolutionary socialists, our political horizon is the possibility of breaking with capitalism and starting the transition to a classless, stateless society of freedom with a truly rational relationship between humanity and the rest of nature. Whether we call that goal ecosocialism, communism, or something else is much less important than clarity about the goal itself. It’s because working-class power is the key to making that break with capitalism that the working class matters so much for socialist politics.

Roadblocks and roads forward

So why hasn’t the working class made that break except on a handful of occasions when the triumphant efforts were sooner or later defeated?

Some socialists say the main problem is that workers are misled by leaders who aren’t revolutionaries. While social democratic parties such as the NDP and almost all officials at the top of unions are no foes of capitalism, blaming those parties and leaders doesn’t explain why working-class people usually try to deal with the problems they face in ways that don’t involve collective struggle, let alone revolution.

Another idea about why there haven’t been more working-class revolutions, particularly in the Global North, points to a minority of workers in rich countries who are allegedly bribed by the profits of imperialism: a “labour aristocracy.” Socialists who take this idea seriously are likely to turn their backs on whoever they think is in the “labour aristocracy.” To be sure, we should challenge reactionary behaviour and pro-capitalist ideas among higher-paid workers. We should strive to persuade them to act in solidarity with lower-paid, lower-status workers. Elitism, clinging to respectability, and bonding with bosses and other high-status people are real problems. But high-paid workers aren’t the only people who cling to respectability or adopt a boss’s view of the world. Being low-paid and marginalized doesn’t necessarily make people more sympathetic to anti-capitalist politics, let alone to militant action.    

When we avoid these mistakes and instead recognize how broad the working class is, socialists can develop politics best suited to advancing the class struggle under today’s conditions. We also need to acknowledge how the working class is highly fragmented along lines including income, occupation, industry, home ownership, unionization, and citizenship status. It’s also divided by sexism, racism, cis supremacy, heterosexism, settler colonialism, and other forms of oppression, all of which confer advantages (privilege) on dominant groups within the class. It helps to be humble about the limits of what we know, curious about what we don’t know, and eager to become constructive participants in workplace and community organizing where we can learn from experience.

Collectivize everything

If the working class today is highly decomposed, with people mostly trying to survive through their families or on their own, we should see our task as helping to recompose the class, building unity and solidarity one step at a time. This means always promoting collective responses to the problems confronting people, in the workplace and beyond. “What force on earth is weaker than the feeble strength of one?” asks the old labour song “Solidarity Forever,” with good reason.

Collective action is the stuff of which class politics is made. It may need to begin in a very modest way – for example, with a group grievance by workers or a group complaint by tenants. Sometimes it’s possible to take the effort up a rung on the ladder of militancy – for example, having a group of workers visit the boss if a grievance is stalled – and we should always have an eye on that possibility. Escalation can’t be proclaimed; it has to be organized step by step. Once people are really in motion, they may take an unexpected leap to carrying out a more militant form of action, but that happens only when they’re already organized and confident.

“An injury to one is an injury to all” is a saying as old as “Solidarity Forever.” Although the words are sometimes spoken in unions, this vital principle is rarely taken seriously. What counts as an injury is often contentious, as is the question of why people who haven’t been directly injured should care. For example, many cis people don’t grasp what’s wrong with a government requiring teachers to tell parents when their child uses a different name or pronouns than the ones on record, and many workers who aren’t unionized don’t realize how they’re affected when governments attack the rights of unionized workers. Fostering the widest possible recognition of injustice, and greater commitment to act against it, is an essential aspect of class politics. 

That isn’t just about persuasion. Persuasion can sometimes get people to attend a picket line or rally against an injustice they don’t know first-hand, but it’s the practical experience of spending time at those sites of struggle – and building relationships in the process – that really changes minds. We need more people to have those experiences if we’re to be able to address not only the exploitation and alienation of the entire working class, but also the various forms of oppression interwoven with them. This means calling for demands that cover all workers – for example, stronger employment standards and better public healthcare – as well as demands tailored to the needs of specific groups of oppressed people, such as employment equity and public healthcare that meets the needs of trans people. And it means recognizing that the masses standing on the same side of the fence between capital and labour are all part of the working class.

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