Political
systems and their governments rule over the nations of the world. It
is the political structure that chooses the executive and orients the
policies it dictates to the nation. That structure can have a wide
range of different forms, but it is basically the control of armed
force and property. Its role is to enforce the rules of ownership,
whatever they may be, both nationally and internationally. Politics
is the age-old struggle between capital and labour. It began with the
land ownership that comes with conquest and constitutes the primary
form of capital. Then came trade and financial capital. And finally
there was the emergence of industrial capital, notably during the
last two centuries with the invention of machines driven by fossil
fuels and electricity. These three kinds of capital function
together, but they also compete for the surplus value extracted from
labour. These struggles between capitals and between capital and
labour are arbitrated by the power invested in government. Most
governments favour capital over labour, as that is where the money
is, but this support often prioritises some forms of capital more
than others. Agriculture, banking and industry jostle for power and
unite against labour.
The
style of politics is shaped by the owners of capital. If state
property is preponderant, politics will tend to be totalitarian. If
the military control capital, they will often impose an armed
dictatorship. If capital is privately owned, dialogue is necessary.
It is the private property of capital that demands and gets
representation. Landowners and industrialists constituted the
political divide, with bankers dithering in the centre and dealing
with both sides. The ownership of land - be it for agriculture, stock
raising, mineral extraction or real estate - on one side, and the
transformative industries on the other, were the nations employers,
whereas the financial sector, stock exchanges, banks and insurance,
had relatively few employees. And a sector’s interests were
perceived by employees as their own. Landowners, with their
increasing dependence on immigrant workers who do not have political
rights, are at a disadvantage. And out-sourcing industry has also
reduced that traditional support. Historic political divisions have
lost their meanings in a world of part-time, ephemeral jobs in the
ballooning “services” sector. And the capital behind this new
social dimension could unite to form a separate political force. So
far it has backed existing systems, but compulsive legislation may
oblige it to act in the political arena as an autonomous party.
Can
one imagine the heavyweights of the digital gig economy putting some
of their fortunes into the foundation of a socially oriented and
environmentally concerned coalition? The more visible personalities
show no signs of such an intention, being still totally concentrated
on expanding or consolidating their empires. However, these new
forces are already challenging the existing system economically, and
the reaction will make their present uncompromised position
untenable. They have plethoric funds and followers, the two
fundamentals for political action. But capital does not create
political parties. It gives its support to the party that best
represents its particular sector, and often hedges its bets. Just
like the industrial revolution of the 19th century, the
digital revolution is creating new economic and political forces that
will have to confront and contest the existing power structures. The
struggle will be over the control of the web, by and for the people
or against them. The easy path is stricter, tighter state
surveillance and censorship. But this denial of a changing political
landscape cannot prevail against reality. Maintaining things as they
are is not a realistic option. A possible alternative would be a wide
coalition of progressives, a charismatic leader and the new economy’s
financial backing, in that order. As ever, the first step is
organising, educating and building alliances. Some of this is
underway, but the movements are disparate and seem unable to
coalesce. Occupy Wall Street, Me Too, Black Lives Matter and Extinction
Rebellion have mobilised large numbers in the streets quite
separately, as though the power of finance, sexism, racism and climate
disruption were not parts of the same problem. Even the MAGA and
yellow-vest crowds – who are not all poly-phobic white male
supremacists and mostly just feel abandoned by the system (the swamp)
– should be solicited for the largest possible union. This can only
be a class struggle, and everyone must become conscious of which side
they are on.
The
millennium coincides with a turning point for humanity. Its fossil
fuel economy is destroying life on the planet with toxic wastes and
greenhouse gases. Its political structures and its property rights
have rifted the wealth and incomes gap. And its financial system is
spending the future. This is a “highway to hell” for all, except
the tiny few who live in Olympian clouds and do not see or care about
what is going on. Something will have to happen soon to deviate this
noxious path. It will be reasoned and organised, or it will be
chaotic and destructive. In either case there will be violence, as
there will be no sudden change of heart among the 1%. They will
resist, but if whole nations rise up against them, their efforts will
be futile. And COVID lockdowns have shown that everything can be
brought to a standstill by just staying at home. A planed nation-wide
lockdown could be more effective than street protests, which
systematically serve as a pretext for police violence and thereby
discourage a majority of potential marchers. What is unclear is the
position of internet providers. A really generalised movement would
need them, to take form and to coordinate. They might be obliged to
side with their users, the people. But then governments have the
power to interrupt communications, though that would disrupt things
even more than the home sit-in.
There
is a vast desire for change. Political parties have demonstrated that
they are two faces of the same coin. Representation has lost all
meaning as electoral mandates are never followed. And the unlimited
accumulation of wealth is seen as “a somewhat disgusting
morbidity”, J.M. Keynes (1). Nations live and thrive by the actions
and imagination of all its citizens. Governments are at the helm, and
their function is to steer the path approved by most, if not all, of
the governed. The same goes for companies, executives and their
employees. But governments and executives have similar class
interests and steer in favour of them, more wealth to the wealthy and
more power to the powerful. This collusion between state and capital
against the people is what defined Italian fascism under Mussolini.
It came back in a more subtle form – without the jackboots, the
salutes and the uniforms – in the Thatcher-Reagan era, with reduced
taxes and social services, more for the rich and less for the poor.
It promoted the concentration of wealth and power, plunged a growing
number of households into relative or absolute poverty, and crippled
all labour organisations.
Government
by and for the few needs a strong repressive apparatus, but it must
also propagate an ideology of inequality. The social divide it
installs can only be justified by proclaiming that some are
inherently superior to others. This is basically a racist attitude,
but it includes any opposition that can be crushed without remorse.
Totalitarian governments have been and are still monopolised by
one political party, to the exclusion of all others. Nevertheless,
two or more party systems can agree to alternate in power, and
perhaps advantage alternatively some capital over the rest, while
maintaining the illusion of distinct differences in their policies.
This masquerade, where liberals and conservatives pretend to fight
for control of government, is losing its credibility, as both sides
become increasingly interchangeable. Government and corporations are
so close that they seem to merge. To paraphrase Charlie Wilson, CEO
of general Motors and soon to be Secretary of Defence (1953), “What’s
good for the United States is good for Chevron, Lockheed, Walmart and
Co. and vice versa”. This confusion of government and capital leans
towards fascism when the state takes control of capital. When
political power dominates economic power, the way is open for
totalitarian power. The 20th century witnessed the
materialisation of this power in various forms. The Italian
experience was different from the Russian one, which in turn was
different from the German, Chinese, Japanese, etc., and even war-time
UK and US were not far from it in the 1940s. Think of Orwell’s
“1984” written in 1948, and Senator McCarthy’s paranoid witch
hunts.
Fascist
regimes take over in times of crisis, when civil society has lost its
bearings and when the confrontation of labour and capital
intensifies. Even when it is not conducted by the military, its model
is military obedience to the commands of the hierarchy, and
ultimately to those of the supreme commander. But this absolute
compliance seems increasingly outdated in modern armies, and how much
more so in the government of a nation. It is the guarantee of
economic and social regression as it enforces monopolies and constant
policing, which extinguishes innovation and initiatives. Totalitarian
governments can last a long time, but they get left behind by the
rest of the world. Their continuation in “developing” countries
such as Myanmar, Honduras or Syria, and their resurgence in China and
Russia, go against the 21st century’s global concern
over toxic wastes, greenhouse gases, debt and the ongoing pandemic.
But then, these events may come together to create a major crisis
favourable to them.
Fascist
regimes rule by naked brute force. Might is right, which means that
police and military play a prominent role. Some fascisms are civilian
and rely more on police, and some are military and rely on the army.
Both have special units, praetorian guards, accountable only to the
supreme leader or commander, or whatever. Without going too far back,
the classic forms of fascism came in the wake of the First World War,
when disillusioned soldiers from disbanded armies were recruited
against workers and peasants. This was facilitated by propaganda, as
ever, and by the antagonism between those doing the fighting and
those insuring production in the rear. The German SA and the Italian
Fasci were originally constituted of war veterans. In both nations,
the sudden end of the war had left the military hierarchies in
disarray. Presently, in its twentieth year of war, the US has
accumulated a fair number of combat zone veterans, some of whom were
present in Washington DC on January the 6th, and the
comparison with Europe in the 1920s, with Mussolini’s successful
march on Rome in 1922, or rather Hitler’s failed coup in Munich the
following year, may seem appropriate, but an essential element is
missing. In the US, the military command and those of the
intelligence agencies and police have a firm hold on their troops,
who are there for a career under contracts and oaths, and are all
generously funded. There is no room for armed thuggery to go beyond
the habitual norm of organised crime.
Since
1945, the common form of fascism has been military dictatorship. The
examples are too numerous to enumerate, but they have in common the
control of government and capital by the military, as a separate
class or cast. So far this plague has been confined to the developing
world and has heavily hindered their development. In the industrial
nations military government is history, though retired generals have
governed not that long ago (Eisenhower, 1960, de Gaulle, 1969). In
those nations the higher echelons of the military are integrated into
the structure of politics and property. And the armed forces allow
social ascension more than elsewhere, thereby upholding the
meritocratic myth that anyone can make it to the top through hard
work and unfailing intent. Very, very few actually do, but these
exceptional examples sustain and somehow justify the hierarchical
levels of command, because the GHQ brass is the best in an open
competition. These generals have neither the inclination nor the
competence to control government and capital. They occupy a cosy
niche, and may retire to even cosier ones in civilian dress.
The
fascisms of militias and military coups need not be considered in the
developed world, but a repressive police state of total surveillance
is in place. All citizens are being watched and listened to by their
own smart phones and other connected appliances, just as police might
and impunity is constantly growing. Meanwhile women, alongside ethnic
and sexual minorities, have won legal rights, and cannabis is slowly
obtaining the same status as alcohol. But these liberal concessions
in no way question the hierarchy of wealth and power, even if they
perturb its masculine dominance. And all laws can be cancelled by the
stroke of a pen. All advances can be reversed when the struggle
weakens. The demands of women and minorities, valid as they are,
distract from the class war that really contests the structures of
power. Sex and drugs do not concern the social divide of capital and
labour or the class control of government. Women and minorities have
claimed the same rights as white heterosexual males, each according
to her or his class status. By the hazards of inheritance, the ruling
classes have experienced women of property and power throughout
history, without it contradicting male primacy in the use of force.
Men went off to war or work, while women were busy with domestic
tasks and child care, but in upper-class households this work was
carried out by servants, allowing women to have other activities.
Ruling class women have shown competence in the past, and are showing
it now in politics and as corporate executives. However, competing
with men does not question class privilege. It may even strengthen it
with a sense of cohesion. Among the middle and working classes, the
competition for jobs has stultified most wages, and has played a part
in the regression of class consciousness and the growing undercurrent
of misogyny. Demands by minorities have followed similar paths, with
upper-class integration and increasing strife and ill-feeling for the
rest. It has often been noted that the ruling class only concedes
things that do not disrupt its power. Gender and minority equality
has in fact split the working class in two and into multiple
subsections. The demands for rights, not as workers but as members of
an identifiable group, have created divisions and pitted all groups
against each other in a contest for rights. Attention has focused on
upper-class integration, the first woman CEO, the first ethnic
minority minister, the first ethnic minority woman vice-president,
etc. Meanwhile working conditions and pay have gone downhill for the
employed masses of all genders and origins.
The
division between the owners of the means of production and those who
labour for them is clear-cut, but a general working-class
consciousness has always been more of a hope than a reality. This is
because the ruling classes have always kept a scale of pay and
privilege among their employees, hence the voluntary servitude of the
middle class and the forced servitude of the working class. However,
these distinctions are sometimes attenuated. The working class may
obtain rising wages and have a life-style similar to the middle
class, as was the case in post-WW2 industrial nations. Alternatively,
the middle class may be submitted to shrinking incomes and a
life-style similar to the working class, which has been happening
over the last few decades, and has accelerated since 2008. The first
resulted from the levelling of society by total war. The second is
the consequence of an extreme accumulation of wealth at the summit of
the social hierarchy. Upward social mobility pacifies class
conflicts, though minorities and immigrants are often excluded, and
though the Cold War, with its fallout in South-East Asia and
elsewhere, provoked considerable mass protests. Downward social
mobility is the cause of unease and disillusionment, and the source
of cross class rebellion. When the middle class is déclassé, it is
forced to join the ranks of the working class and abandons its
voluntary servitude. This primarily hits the lower middle class, many
of whom were the first or second generation to have moved up
socially, which heightens their distress and sense of failure. The
system that seemed to favour them has let them down. Its promises
have not been held, and the resulting anger is all the greater. The
union of petite bourgeoisie and proletariat is the usual prelude to
rebellion. Marx criticised it, noting that the proletariat was always
abandoned and crushed in the end (2). Unfortunately, working class
leaders are few and far between, and those who do emerge are either
corrupted or killed. Whereas the middle class has superior education
and is crowded with would be ideologues and clever orators who just
have their own interests in mind. Their instinct is to climb the
social ladder. They have been raised and educated for that, and
cannot conceive a classless society. The working classes are just
troops at their disposal. Send them to the barricades and make deals
behind their backs.
There
is a new urge, not to say urgency, for socialism, or at least a more
equal distribution of property, income and political decision making.
That minimum can be achieved – it has been in the past – but a
classless world will probably remain an unreachable horizon. The
primitive communism of Marxist literature, where land is held in
common by all members of the clan or village, is too far removed from
the vast complexities of a nation-state to be a model, though
existing public ownership of land does have the appearance of
communal property. In fact, governments dispose of it in the
interests of capital, too often in ways that are detrimental for the
people. That communities should have their say on the usage that is
made of their environment seems fundamental. But as things stand,
even in liberal democracies, this would require a reconstruction of
property rights and electoral mandates. Land owners and politicians
should no longer be allowed to do as they wish, once they have
acquired these positions. A constant overview by the people should be
compulsory, and would need complete transparency. Property and
politics are the two pillars of power. Both have done their time in
their present forms, and both will have to be broken before they can
be rebuilt differently.
1.
In this short piece, titled “Economic possibilities for our
grandchildren” and written in 1930, the timetable was somewhat
optimistic.
The
whole paragraph reads as follows.
“There
are changes in other spheres too which we must expect to come. When
the accumulation of wealth is no longer of high social importance,
there will be great changes in the code of morals. We shall be able
to rid ourselves of many of the pseudo-moral principles which have
hag-ridden us for two hundred years, by which we have exalted some of
the most distasteful of human qualities into the position of the
highest virtues. We shall be able to afford to dare to assess the
money-motive at its true value. The love of money as a possession –
as distinguished from the love of money as a means to the enjoyments
and realities of life – will be recognised for what it is, a
somewhat disgusting morbidity, one of those semi-criminal,
semi-pathological propensities which one hands over with a shudder to
the specialists in mental disease. All kinds of social customs and
economic practices, affecting the distribution of wealth and of
economic rewards and penalties, which we now maintain at all costs,
however distasteful and unjust they may be in themselves, because
they are tremendously useful in promoting the accumulation of
capital, we shall then be free, at last, to discard.”
https://www.marxists.org/reference/subject/economics/keynes/1930/our-grandchildren.htm
2.
With comments such as this: “The
phrase which corresponded to this imaginary abolition of class
relations was fraternité,
universal fraternization and brotherhood. This pleasant abstraction
from class antagonisms, this sentimental reconciliation of
contradictory class interests, this visionary elevation above the
class struggle, this fraternity, was the real catchword of the
February Revolution. The classes were divided by a mere
misunderstanding.”
https://www.marxists.org/archive/marx/works/1850/class-struggles-france/ch01.htm