Andrew Kliman on “The Failure of Capitalist Production”

The Failure of Capitalist Production: Underlying Causes of the Great Recession
by Andrew Kliman,
Pluto Press

The recent financial crisis and Great Recession have been analysed endlessly in the mainstream and academia, but this is the first book to conclude, on the basis of in-depth analyses of official US data, that Marx’s crisis theory can explain these events.

Marx believed that the rate of profit has a tendency to fall, leading to economic crises and recessions. Many economists, Marxists among them, have dismissed this theory out of hand, but Andrew Kliman’s careful data analysis shows that the rate of profit did indeed decline after the post-World War II boom and that free-market policies failed to reverse the decline. The fall in profitability led to sluggish investment and economic growth, mounting debt problems, desperate attempts of governments to fight these problems by piling up even more debt – and ultimately to the Great Recession.

Kliman’s conclusion is simple but shocking: short of socialist transformation, the only way to escape the ‘new normal’ of a stagnant, crisis-prone economy is to restore profitability through full-scale destruction of existing wealth, something not seen since the Depression of the 1930s.

About The Author

Andrew Kliman is Professor of Economics at Pace University, New York. He is the author of Reclaiming Marx’s ‘Capital’: A Refutation of the Myth of Inconsistency and many writings on crisis theory, value theory and other topics.

Significance of a counter-hegemonic culture: : An Urgent Need for Marxist Reading Groups

Raju J Das

Capitalism creates poverty. It indeed requires poverty and thrives on it. It causes and requires massive social and geographical inequality. And capitalism is inherently crisis-prone. We have just witnessed a major global economic crisis. In part because of its crisis-proneness, modern world capitalism is necessarily imperialist: advanced capitalist countries try to shift the effects of the crises they experience to politically and economically weaker countries (often with the connivance of the state in these countries). Normal mechanisms of capitalism and the combination of economic crisis and imperialism have major adverse impacts on the living conditions of the working masses in general and workers and poor peasants in the less developed countries such as India in particular.

No system of injustice goes unchallenged, however. Away from the pre-occupations of the corporate-controlled mainstream media, people’s movements against the profit-driven system have been taking place. Consider, for example, the Arab Spring, various social justice movements in India and elsewhere, as well as the ‘occupy movements’ in the US and Europe, which are bound to leave an impression on the radical imagination of the masses, even if they are being repressed. Humans have an irrepressible quest for justice and have a desire for a humane world. These various movements have emerged in response to the heightened levels of exploitation of workers, massive amount of dispossession of peasants from their property, undemocratic control over socio-economic activity and the government by large companies, and the irreparable ecological devastation and cultural impoverishment.

Many activists and movements have been inspired in their thinking by the critique by Marx and other progressive scholars of capitalist commodification and development. Ideologically, these protests and the recent economic crises call into question the legitimacy not only of capitalism, including its neoliberal form, but also of capitalist nation-states and global ‘state’ apparatuses (e.g. World Bank; IMF). This happens in richer countries and in poorer countries such as India as well.

There has indeed been an extraordinary resurgence of interest in a Marxist worldview recently, which as Terry Eagleton put it, is the ‘most theoretically rich, politically uncompromising critique of [the capitalist] system’ (Why Marx was right?). The process of resurgence of this intellectually insurgent worldview (Marxism) has been helped by the fact that the social relations of authoritarian ‘communism’, and other related views, which had acted as a fetter on the development of productive powers of Marxist research, have been burst asunder. In this context, question of alternatives to capitalism (beyond Keynesianism, state-bureaucratism, and neo-populism) – and the role of (Marxist) intellectuals whether in academy, in the media or ‘civil society’ in radical social change – are being actively discussed the world over. This has led to a series of important interventions rethinking political parties, democracy and visions of viable socialisms. More and more people are reading Marx and Marxists, and reading them critically, for Marxism is a science which must be updated where necessary. There is an outpouring of Marxist discussions including in journals such as New York-based Science and Society, world’s longest continuously published Marxist journal, which celebrated its 75th anniversary in October 2011, Review of Radical Political Economics (from Cornell University), Historical Materialism (from SOAS, London), Capital and Class, and so on. Much of this resurgence is exhibited on- online, Radical Notes itself being a testimony to this as is, for example, Sanhati.

The remaking of socialist visions – which emphasize socialism as the flourishing of optimal level of democracy in all spheres of human life – has also meant extensive considerations of race, caste, tribality, gender, sexuality and disability. These issues of social oppression/discrimination are important in their own right. But they are important dominantly because of the ways in which capitalism subordinates them to its own logic. Capitalism furthers its accumulation projects by using these sources of oppression to define certain working subjects as less than average workers who can be paid lower compensations. Capital also politically dominates the suffering subjects (workers and peasants) by dividing them on the basis of these non-class identities. An aspect of the resurgence of Marxist research is the immense popularity of Marxist dialectics as a holistic way of looking at the capitalist world, in terms of its unity as well as difference, from the standpoint of radically changing it. Such a dialectical method allows us to reflect on various methods of exploitation and social oppression as interconnected and as forming a concrete whole.

Reading Marx and those who engage in what the American Marxist, Hal Draper called ‘Marx’s Marxism’ would be more than apt at a political moment when neoliberalism, in theory and practice, is in crisis, when the turbulence of capitalist economies is part of daily life. As David Harvey and others have argued, Marx is more relevant now than he was during his own time.

The problems caused by capitalism are everywhere. These problems are, however, particularly acute in less developed countries and in the most under-developed parts of these poor countries. In many under-developed regions of India (e.g. Odisha), capitalist market relations in land and labour coexist with remnants of coercive production relations in some localities and with highly undemocratic relations of casteism, patriarchy and tribalism more generally. The institutions of the state are more or less ‘instruments’ of property-owners, including those whose main object is to subject natural resources and working people to cruel forms of commodification and ruthless forms of exploitation, all in the name of development and dollars (export earnings). There is an inverse relation between democratic rhetoric and its actual content. There is an absence of democratic values both in the economy or polity: ordinary people have little real democratic control over the way our resources and abilities to work are used. The cult of violence is everywhere. There is systemic violence as that caused when people’s livelihood is snatched away from them or when people do not have the money to buy basic necessities because of which they starve to death or suffer from poverty-caused diseases. Related to this violence is ‘agentic violence’: in some places ordinary people, often out of sheer desperation, tend to resort to violence (which is unproductive in the long run), in response to which and often to preempt which the state resorts to massive and disproportionate violence.

The situation in more under-developed regions of India and in similar other countries raises several questions. Why are these regions so poor when they are so rich in terms of natural resources and labouring quality of their workers and peasants? How does capitalism make use of undemocratic social and economic relations? What explains the inability of the political and intellectual elite to help the suffering masses in any significant way? Just why it is that the majority of our people have no access to nutritious food, decent housing and clothing, quality education and health-care as well as other amenities including safe drinking water and electricity? These and many other questions can be fruitfully explored only if we have an adequate understanding of capitalism as such and the ways in which it works in concrete circumstances. Understanding Marx is essential therefore. A proper understanding of Marx and his legacy would also make clear to people that the Marxist vision is a vision of a society which is authentically democratic and that Marxism has little to do with any political activity which is aimed at hurting individuals. Individuals are bearers of social relations. What needs to be changed is the system of social relations, not occupiers of positions in the system.

To understand the world, it is not enough to have sense-data. We need theory, this is because important aspects of the world are not immediately accessible to mere empirical observation. To understand the world from the standpoint of the majority, the working masses, we need a theory from their standpoint. Radical transformation in the direction of social, economic and ecological democracy and justice is not possible without a radical theory. Marx and his legacy provide such a theory. It would be useful to set up Radical/progressive reading groups in different places to promote a counter-hegemonic culture, a tradition of radical imagination in theory. Consisting of interested academics, activists, workers-peasants, and indeed anyone who is interested in critically understanding the current situation with a view to radically transcend it and deepen the democratic content/spirit of our society to the highest extent possible, this group could meet regularly to read the Marxist and progressive literature on topics of classical and contemporary significance and discuss it in a comradely and non-sectarian manner. It will also connect the readings and the discussions to the world around us and draw theoretical implications for political practice. There are thousands of progressive people engaged in theoretical-political struggle for justice. Often in terms of theory, politics and method of struggles, there are ‘deep’ divisions among them (including, and interestingly, over the fact of whether poor countries such as India are dominantly capitalist or not). Perhaps an understanding of Marx and his legacy would show that the divisions are not as real as they appear to be, and that there is cause more for unity and less for division: at least the divisions should be discussed in the light of theoretical discussions the foundation for which was laid by Marx. These reading groups cannot only read radical academic literature but also encourage performance of radical art in its various forms and reflect on these theoretically.

A culture that accurately reflects the interest and ideas of the majority of the people is a most democratic process to promote. Setting up Marxist Readings Groups is an important need of the hour therefore.

Raju J Das is an Associate Professor at York University, Toronto, Canada. Email: rajudas@yorku.ca

What the Occupy Movement fails to do

Prakash Kona

I never understood what the Occupy Movement aimed to achieve to begin with. Either it was too ambitious in aspiring to challenge corporate despotism or its goals were impossible to begin with. Not to mention it continues to be abstract and surreal as ever. I like to watch the protesters on TV who sometimes look innocent to me. The comparison with the Arab Spring by way of analogy is a completely wrong one. The comparison is not between apples and oranges since both are fruits but more like comparing a blue stocking with oxtail soup. Those who have traveled or at least have watched international movies with interest know for a fact that third world streets have a different character from those of the first world. Third world streets like third world life are filled with all too visible contradictions. The contradictions are disguised in the colonial economies of the west. The Occupy Movement and the Arab Spring are as distinct as Tahrir Square and Wall Street and the people who stand there.

That’s not the point however. What I fail to understand about the Occupy Movement is what exactly they intend to achieve with the “occupation”? If their aim is to make people aware of inequalities in society, the people already are in my view. If their aim is to challenge corporatism I don’t think this is going to happen by standing on a street. If the police eventually evacuated them, what do you want the police to do? To stand and watch the protesters as if it were a scene in the setting of a Hollywood film. Even if there were no police how long the standing around is expected to continue?

Seriously I’m suspicious of motives with which people arrive on a platform though I’m not cynical to the extent of doubting what the ones inspired with a sense of justice are capable of achieving. Definitely the Occupy Movement is not a prelude to a revolution of sorts. It is not a prelude either to political awakening because I’m certain that common people are conscious of the line of thought taken by the Occupy Movement. There are no lessons to be gained by its failure since not much was meant to be achieved by its success. I’m afraid very soon it’ll evacuate public memory as well and turn into one of those countless additions to youtube.com. Democracy in the western sense of the term with all its accompanying benefits in terms of being able to speak against authority without fear of getting killed or going to jail is the goal of Arab Spring. What is the goal of the Occupy Movement which is already happening within the parameters of an established democracy? The Haussmannized streets of carefully planned western cities will not allow for an armed insurrection of any kind. The European Revolutions of 1848 lead to a complete renovation of Paris and other cities making it possible for the state’s armed forces to brutally suppress any possibility of an uprising. If the Occupy Movement was peaceful and nonviolent it owed to lack of choice more than anything else. In principle I don’t think there could be peaceful movements. They are bound to be provocative in passive resistance as much as in active resistance.

If the goal of the movement is to fight inequalities it can demonstrate its true intentions in the politics of daily life. Western lifestyles which thrive on excess are anathema. The working classes irrespective of where they are from – ultimately they want those who speak of equality to work and live like the poor. Unless the protestors are one with those whom they claim to speak for, their movement will at best be cumulative acts of frustration put together. Only the discipline that comes with living, working and thinking like the masses can confront Wall Street who George Carlin refers to as the America’s “real owners.” Back in the 19th century when Jane Addams the prominent feminist and public philosopher went to meet Tolstoy, he not only called her an “absentee landlord” but asked her the question: “Do you think you will help the people more by adding yourself to the crowded city than you would by tilling your own soil?” This is not to disparage Jane Addams who is a unique woman and profound thinker in her own right but to say that the divorce between living like the poor and talking about them is more prominent with American forms of protest than perhaps with the European who might have a slightly more realistic view of life in relation to politics and change.

The fact that despite the growing poverty and unemployment no social revolt is possible in the United States is evident owing to the success of the propaganda machinery. The Steve Jobs phenomenon that occupied media attention says everything about the success of American propaganda. Suddenly Steve Jobs (who most people did not even hear of until he died) is the new hero for the young, right from Japan to India all the way to the Middle East (since he had a Syrian Sunni Muslim father who abandoned him by the way) and of course Europe and the United States. Steve Jobs like any other corporate warlord achieved his success through a combination of uncanny brilliance and ruthless elimination of competition. That’s how business empires are built – by eliminating the small in order to arrive at the big. Steve Jobs’ success is possible because he is a white guy and if the world knew that there is a Sunni Muslim Arab hiding beneath the whiteness it would have been harder for him to reach where he did.

For all their private suffering men like Jobs are contemptible to say the least. It amazes me therefore that so many people should want to be Steve Jobs without realizing that these are media manufactured heroes. These are not the blatantly impossible individual achievements that we see in the novels of Ayn Rand. These are facades that global capitalism needs to lead the educated masses to play their role in global exploitation of the poor. This “hero” making formula is used day in day out by American television and Hollywood while parroted by the rest of the world, with sportspeople or actors or business entrepreneurs in turns becoming heroes out of nowhere. All dropouts are not going to be Steve Jobs. Unfortunately most dropouts would like to believe that they could be so. That’s how propaganda works.

To date I attribute the success of American imperialism not to its military prowess which truly speaking is pretty pathetic given their poorly motivated cadres. The fact that they’ve been for so many years in Afghanistan and yet a barely armed but ruthless Taliban continues to gives them the shudder says everything about the so-called military power of the US. You need people to fight wars and not technology is a lesson that comes out rather well in the Afghanistan fiasco. Rather, it is to TV serials such as the globally popular “Friends” that America owes its real success. I’ve met people from various countries of the world who talk and think like those characters in the “Friends” sitcom. This is where we need to challenge American domination of the third world. At the same time that they are defeated economically and politically it is imperative that American hegemony be destroyed culturally as well to give alternate ways of expression a possibility to see the light of day.

The Occupy Movement if at all there is one in all sincerity should go to the small towns and take a walk through those parts of the cities that the poor inhabit. That’s where real America lives. Not in the universities and certainly not in the big cities. It is those small town Americans who are real harbingers of social and political change. The spaces that the media is not interested in – those are the spaces where real change is possible. To educate the poor and to selflessly work toward the uplift of the downtrodden classes – that’s the day the corporate world will begin to have sleepless nights.

Prakash Kona is an Associate Professor at the Department of English Literature, The English and Foreign Languages University (EFLU), Hyderabad.

“The Ultimate Contradiction of the Revolution”

Pratyush Chandra

Published as Afterword in Ron Ridenour’s book “Sounds of Venezuela”, New Century Book House, Chennai, 2011. This article tries to address some questions that have been raised by many Tamil comrades regarding the foreign policy of the Venezuelan State, especially in the context of state repression against the Tamils in Sri Lanka, and the Venezuelan and other ALBA states’ support to the Sri Lankan government in international forums.

The narrative Ron Ridenour has woven here in these pages provides a glimpse of the Venezuelan reality, which exposes not only the significance of the Bolivarian revolutionary processes, but also their contradictions. Obviously, these contradictions are the source of much anxiety among the friends of the Bolivarian revolution throughout the globe. But is it not true that a revolution is as much about hope as it is about apprehensions and dangers? A revolution is always unsettling. You cannot ever pronounce the final judgement about the event called revolution. That is why what famous Marxist historian George Rudé said about the French Revolution is true for all revolutions—”the Revolution remains an ever-open field of enquiry.”(1)

I

Nothing remains settled in the revolutionary process—otherwise how can it be called a revolution? We need to understand that this process is constituted by conflicts among various ever-new possibilities that emerge at every moment therein. Ideological struggles are nothing but representations of these conflicts; expressed in political programmatic language, these possibilities constitute the various lines within the revolutionary movement. These conflicts are what determine the course of the revolution.

To be more specific, there is always an impulse internal to the revolutionary process that seeks to control or limit the pace and extent of the revolution—to make things settled. It can have a positive implication to the extent that it compels the revolutionaries to be conscious of the course of the revolution and to be vigilant enough to differentiate between the forces of reaction and revolution that are internally germinating. The ‘faces’ of these forces do not remain the same—what seems revolutionary at one moment might dawn as reactionary at another. The conservative impulse we are talking about lies somewhere in the interstices of the moments of movement and consolidation, trying to break the simultaneity of these moments. When it is able to break this simultaneity, it morphs into a Thermidorian form with the apparent task of consolidating the revolutionary achievements and protecting them from the enemies. This Thermidorian power externalises all problems of revolution—it tries to cleanse the revolution of these problems so thoroughly that what emerges out of this deadly bath is a revolution sans revolution—sanitised of all contradictions.

The formalisation or institutionalisation of the achievements cannot be avoided. However, this is what gives birth to a new status quo, which tries to guard itself against revolutionary impermanence. It is a conflict like this that could be understood as a two-line struggle—between the emerging headquarters and the forces of continuous revolution. This struggle is in fact the revolutionary truth which cannot be avoided. No moment in the revolutionary movement is devoid of the forces of conservation, which have the potentiality of turning into a full-scale centrism or even reaction depending on the balance of class forces.

With regard to the revolutionary processes in Venezuela, it has been regularly emphasized that “the ultimate contradiction of the (Bolivarian) revolution” is the struggle internal to Chavism—”between the ‘endogenous right’ and the masses who have been mobilised.” Chávez himself frequently describes the Venezuelan reality in Gramscian terms—”The crisis consists precisely in the fact that the old is dying and the new cannot be born.” However, as Gramsci said, in this interregnum a great variety of morbid symptoms appear—which appear in Venezuela (alongside the continued existence of the old oligarchy, latifundistas, monopoly capitalists and US imperialism) in the form of the new ‘boli-bourgeoisie,’ the military-civil bureaucracy, and ‘the party functionaries and nomenklatura’ who seek to thwart the class and mass initiatives from below.(2) These are the material forces, which with their dispassionate mannerisms try to conserve a pragmatic and ‘realistic’ Bolivarian future against the erratic spontaneism of grass roots initiatives. These are the Bolivarian headquarters.

II

As is well-known, historically there has been a systematic erosion of productive sectors in Venezuela which are not allied to operations of the oil industry. Since 1998, there has been a consistent endeavour to rebuild these other sectors of production and infrastructure around them. In order to achieve this, many steps both backwards and forward have been taken. Many bureaucratic, intermediary and petty bourgeois interests have not just been tolerated but even encouraged and promoted to compete with old oligarchies and corporate interests. Incentives to ‘native bourgeoisie’ and petty bourgeoisie have been an interim strategy of the Bolivarian regime to fragment the corporate unity of capital, while helping in diversifying the Venezuelan economy. In fact, the imperative to create an ‘alternative social bloc’ against corporate hegemony has forced a vision under which “capitalist sectors whose business activity entered into an objective contradiction with transnational capital” are not considered unapproachable.(3)

However, the radical supporters of the Venezuelan transformation have cautioned that the pragmatic need to neutralise private capitalist interests in order to develop a broader bloc against immediate enemies, like transnational capital and imperialist interests, must not scuttle the anti-capitalist nature of the transformation. It has been shown how “‘incentives’ to private capitalists in order to increase productivity” fail generally because they tend to strengthen the historically nurtured rentierist character of Venezuela’s native bourgeoisie. For example, incentives in agriculture without having a fundamental structural transformation have cost the Chávez government heavily, both politically and economically, as “the big landowner (latifundist) recipients of the Government’s generous agricultural credits and grants are not investing in agricultural production, in raising cattle, purchasing new seeds, new machinery, and new dairy animals. They are transferring Government funding into real estate, Government bonds, banking and speculative investment funds or overseas.”(4) These latifundistas have successfully used to their own advantage the Bolivarian government’s urgency to ensure domestic food security and agricultural productivity amidst volatile international relations by bargaining protection from the upsurge of peasants and landless organisations demanding radical land reforms. However, there has been an increasing realisation within the Bolivarian circles about the futility of such compromises with the rentierist forces.

The emergence of the Bolivarians at the helm of the existing political economic institutions has, of course, intensified the internal class struggle leading to a tremendous crisis for the status quo. But there still exists a considerable space for the consolidation of powerful economic interests because these institutions were essentially built for this purpose. The most recent case of their successful manoeuvrings has been exposed by WikiLeaks, which narrates how a radical Chavista, “Eduardo Saman was replaced as commerce minister following pharmaceutical companies’ efforts to protect old patent legislation and their profits.”(5)

There is a massive danger of the containment of the revolutionary pace and agenda, if the revolutionary forces are not vigilant enough with regard to the activities of those social classes that are crowding the institutions of revolution for incentives and patronage. The new intermediate interests that have emerged close to the state structure, along with the old ones, have resisted every popular attack on private capital. They have attempted to thwart endeavours to institute workers’ control over economic activities. Even within the oil and other ‘monopolistic’ industries, these interests have not conceded any substantial move beyond nationalisation, as state monopoly allows them to use their own proximity to the state machinery for intermediary profiteering. There has been a consistent resistance to the attempts to institute co-management,(6) not just from the side of corporate interests, but also from economistic trade unionism (especially in the state-owned petroleum company, PDVSA), which cannot envisage a system of workers’ control that questions the institutional hierarchy and labour aristocracy.

As long as there is a popular movement which questions and subverts the norms and everydayness of the bourgeois state in Venezuela, with the resoluteness to build ‘a new state from below’ with the novel institutions of protagonistic democracy and communal councils, there is a hope for the Bolivarian Revolution. Or else, “it will lapse into a new variety of capitalism with populist characteristics.”(7) That is why there has been a growing need to envisage the alternative bloc and class alliances which are subservient to the exigencies of “an overall system of socialized production.”(8) The accommodation of capitalist interests in any form (state or private), even when they are in consonance with the immediate interests of the revolutionary transformation at a particular juncture, is fraught with risks of the reassertion of ‘the logic of capital,’ and “there will be a constant struggle to see who will defeat whom.”(9) It is this logic and its constitutive representatives, who try to consolidate their position through the so-called ‘endogenous right’ of the revolution.

III

The emergence of headquarters in a revolution is linked with the question of state, state power and hegemony. During a revolutionary period the state returns to its elements—it emerges as a naked instrument of suppression—of holding down adversaries. The proletarian dictatorship too will not allow its enemies to have a free play. Revolution is a period when class struggles begin to explode the barriers of the existing state order and point beyond them. On the one hand, there are “struggles for state power; on the other, the state itself is simultaneously forced to participate openly in them. There is not only a struggle against the state; the state itself is exposed as a weapon of class struggle, as one of the most important instruments for the maintenance of class rule.”(10)

The global division of labour and the US hegemony reduced the Venezuelan economy to mere accumulation of oil rents, thus making proximity to the state the only viable route to economic success. In such an economy, the statist tendencies are bound to be very strong and entrenched in every layer of society. To complicate the matter, revolutionaries in Venezuela found themselves at the helm of the bourgeois state by following its rules, not by any insurrection. In such a situation, reformist tendencies will definitely be stronger among the ranks of the Bolivarians, who find revolutionary measures futile and even adventurist. These tendencies did suffer a temporary setback during the attempted coup of 2002, but as time elapses the cautious self-critical forces begin to find safe-play, gradualism and tactical compromises essential to consolidate power and achievements and to pre-empt any such drastic attack by counter-revolutionaries in future.

The left Chavistas, on the other hand, stress on the task of smashing the bourgeois state from within while positing a new state from below based on co-management of social and economic life. Like the ‘endogenous right’ they understand the need to consolidate, but for them consolidation is not separate from the destruction of the existing state form. Like Russian revolutionaries, they emphasize the development and independence of the working classes and their organs of self-activity, because only in this way can the workers protect their state, while protecting themselves from it! The defeat of the 2002 coup also demonstrates the impact of the unleashing of popular energy and self-activity and what that could achieve. Moreover, unlike in Russia, the state in Venezuela remains a bourgeois parliamentary state, which is alienated from the everyday life of the revolutionary masses.

IV

Among several valuable insights that Ron Ridenour’s text provides regarding the nature of contradictions that pervade the revolutionary transition in Venezuela, there is an important point on the Venezuelan state’s approach to the struggles of the Colombian guerrillas, the FARC. Ridenour hints at the vacillation in this approach. However, such anomalies are numerous, especially when it comes to international relations. Throughout the globe, post-1998 developments in Latin America have been watched very intently, with a lot of hope and expectation. The consistent defiance of US hegemony by the Chávez regime has been a source of inspiration for various progressive movements everywhere. At least with regard to its position on the American manoeuvrings globally, nobody can fault the Venezuelan state—it never wasted any time to decry the imperialist interventions anywhere in the world.

But this has led to a genuine rise of expectations for support from progressive Latin American regimes (if not materially, at least through statements) for local movements against their particular oppressive states, even when there is no direct western backing to these states. In recent years, with many states lining up to define their own ‘war against terrorism’ in order to crush local critical voices and movements against them, the stance of the Venezuelan and Cuban states has not been supportive of the oppressed. In fact, any official voice from the West critical of the local states has many a time provoked statements from the progressive Latin American regimes that are supportive of the southern states like Iran, Libya, Zimbabwe and Sri Lanka even when these are highly oppressive. This has greatly frustrated the solidarity movements—some even going to the extent of calling the Latin American revolutionary processes ephemeral.

However, one must understand that the revolutionary process is not linear and smooth. It is not something homogeneous, and its targets are not just external. The intensification of revolution is the heightening of contradictions that constitute it. In fact, these constitutive contradictions internalise the so-called external elements—’alien’ class interests, the vestiges of old regimes, etc. Any attempt to avoid contradictions is a conservative attempt from the ‘endogenous right’ to homogenise the revolutionary voices behind the new institutions, alienating them from their organic roots in class struggle, thus giving birth to new bureaucracies—the agencies of the new order. It is the ‘endogeneity’ of this tendency that forces the revolutionary leadership to reassess the coordinates of the contradictions time and again. A fine discrimination of these coordinates in the revolutionary process gives an insight into the apparent anomalies. It was not for nothing that the 20th century revolutionaries time and again stressed the need to differentiate between the state (which even well into the first phase of communist society safeguards the bourgeois law) and the revolutionary masses. An understanding of this aspect is crucial in order to comprehend the problems and prospects of policy designs under a revolutionary regime, including its foreign policy and international relations.

It must be noted that revolutionary internationalism of the working class is an important weapon with which a revolution generalizes itself and resists its degeneration into nationalist statism by not allowing ‘revolutionary passion’ to die out. But it is not simply a subjective aspiration to generalize that gives birth to internationalism. Rather, it “is a necessity arising out of the fact that the capitalist class, which rules over the workers, does not limit its rule to one country.”(11) Thus, internationalism is a result of the class struggle going global—it is an endeavour to thwart the capitalist strategy of intensifying capitalist accumulation by segmenting the working class and its consciousness. It is in this regard that a revolution can be termed as international both at the levels of its causes and impact. It represents a crisis for the capitalist system.

Solidarity efforts in support of revolution beyond the immediate location of its occurrence, along with ‘indigenous’ revolutionaries’ support for movements beyond their location are crucial even for the survival of the revolution as a revolution. It can survive as such only by constantly asserting its international character, its inseparability from international class struggle. Otherwise, it will implode or be reduced to a mere regime change.

It is interesting to see how revolutionaries have time and again talked about the foreign policy of a revolution, not just that of the state. And this has been assessed by the revolution’s galvanising effect on the struggles of the working class and the oppressed in other locations. While criticizing the foreign policy of the Provisional Government (that emerged after the February Revolution of 1917) for conducting it with the capitalists, Lenin remarked:

Yet 1905 showed what the Russian revolution’s foreign policy should be like. It is an indisputable fact that October 17, 1905, was followed by mass unrest and barricade-building in the streets of Vienna and Prague. After 1905 came 1908 in Turkey, 1909 in Persia and 1910 in China. If, instead of compromising with the capitalists, you call on the truly revolutionary democrats, the working class, the oppressed, you will have as allies the oppressed classes instead of the oppressors, and the nationalities which are now being rent to pieces instead of the nationalities in which the oppressing classes now temporarily predominate.(12)

It is in this regard that many struggling peoples across the globe find the foreign policies of the progressive regimes in Latin America wanting. Especially, Cuba and Venezuela, the countries which are in the leadership of the anti-imperialist realignment in the post-Cold War era, have been criticized for not standing against the oppressive regimes of the Global South. They have been chastised for their frequent open support to these regimes, whenever they are attacked by the so-called international community.

The genuineness of these criticisms can hardly be questioned; however, they must go further and explain these stances in terms of their material foundation, rather than locating them in some sort of ideological and personality-oriented tendencies as many have done, who reduce the Chávez phenomenon to populist demagoguery and the Cuban regime to Stalinism. The existential anxiety of these regimes in the face of a strong imperialist unity against them is definitely one reason that must be considered. This makes them wary of any interventionist strategy on the part of the ‘international community’ against any regime. Further, the existentialist need to have an oppositional bloc in the international forums puts them in the company of strange allies.

However, we will have to make a fine distinction between the revolutionary process itself and the institutions, states and individuals that come up during this process. We cannot reduce the revolutions to their particular passing moments. We will have to recognize and accept that these revolutions are marked by intense internal contradictions, whose astute descriptions we find in Ridenour’s travelogue. The states in themselves have a conservative agenda, even when they are deeply embedded in the revolutionary process. They have the task to defend what has been achieved, and in mounting this defence they frequently fail to differentiate between the actual enemies of the revolution and the revolutionaries who are aware of the dilemma, of which Rosa Luxemburg talked about:

“Either the revolution must advance at a rapid, stormy, resolute tempo, break down all barriers with an iron hand and place its goals ever farther ahead, or it is quite soon thrown backward behind its feeble point of departure and suppressed by counter-revolution. To stand still, to mark time on one spot, to be contented with the first goal it happens to reach, is never possible in revolution.”(13)

Notes

1. George Rudé: Revolutionary Europe 1783-1815. Fontana/Collins, 1964.
2. Michael Lebowitz: The Spectre of Socialism for the 21st Century (2008). Available online at: http://links.org.au/node/503/1594%20.
3. Marta Harnecker: Rebuilding the Left. Monthly Review Press & Daanish, 2007, p. 35.
4. James Petras and Henry Veltmeyer: What’s Left in Latin America? Regime Change in New Times. Ashgate: 2009, pp. 192-3.
5. Tamara Pearson: “Venezuelans to Debate Patenting Laws after Revelation that Companies Conspired in Firing of Radical Minister,” http://venezuelanalysis.com/news/6490 (September 15, 2011).
6. The system of co-management envisages social control against any competitive congealment of sectionalist interests over economic activities. Under this system the economic sectors are co-managed by workers with the community at large.
7. Michael Lebowitz: Build it Now: Socialism for the Twenty-First Century. Monthly Review Press & Daanish, 2006, p. 116.
8. Petras and Veltmeyer, op cit, p. 234
9. Marta Harnecker, op cit, p. 36.
10. Georg Lukacs: Lenin: A Study on the Unity of His Thought. Verso, 1970.
11. V.I. Lenin: Draft and Explanation of a Programme for the Social-Democratic Party (1895-96). Collected Works, Vol. 2, p. 109.
12. V.I. Lenin: Speeches at First All Russia Congress of Soviets of Workers’ and Soldiers’ Deputies (June-July 1917). Collected Works, Vol. 25.
13. Rosa Luxemburg: The Russian Revolution (1918). Available at http://www.marxists.org.

Industrialisation and forms of struggle: Or, should industrialisation be opposed?

Raju J Das

Industrialisation is understood narrowly in the sense of manufacturing and broadly in the sense of the application of modern science and technology to the transformation of raw materials from nature. It is necessary for national development, as the economist Gavin Kitching and others argued decades ago. Industrialisation adds value to unprocessed goods extracted from nature and thus increases society’s income. Often owners of land – peasants – do not earn more – or do not earn much more — than those who work in industry as wage labourers. Industrialisation makes possible the production of a vast range of goods, which are directly used by people: clothes, materials required to build houses, traditional and western medicines, consumer durables, cultural items such as books and music instruments; the different types food that go through the manufacturing process, and so on. And, industry indeed produces the means of production necessary in both farming and industry itself. Industrialisation holds out the possibility of ending want and material suffering. It provides employment to the increasing population, including through forward and backward linkages. It makes it possible to reap scale economies and specialisation in ways not possible in agriculture. In part because of the above, industrialisation increases labour productivity, one of the fundamental indicators of progress, prosperity, and economic development in the society at large. Industrialisation breaks the mutual isolation of producers: this happens as they now work in great numbers in large cities and towns. Their geographical concentration will potentially allow them to fight for justice and equality in society, both on their behalf and on behalf of other oppressed groups. Industrialisation, connected as it is to science, promotes a culture of rational thinking and can potentially undermine the basis for superstitious and obscurantist ideas and practices. Given these and many other advantages of industrialisation, the Left – at least the Marxist left — cannot be opposed to industrialisation (although sections of the postmodern/populist Left are, as industrialisation is seen by them as a sign/carrier of modernity that supposedly destroys an authentic pre-modern culture). The question is: what form of industrialisation should the Left endorse in theory and practice? What happens when, for example, a proposed SEZ (special economic zone) displaces thousands of peasants? Should industrialisation be endorsed under this situation?

To answer this question, one may start with agriculture. Land is the most important means of production in agriculture, at least at the current stage when farming is relatively less capital-intensive. Fertility of land is a product of natural forces as well as human investments. It is normally the case that human investments in land to raise land fertility happen closer to existing centres of population and commerce than away from these. Fertile tracts of land therefore are generally located closer to existing centres of population and commerce. Now, owners of industry need also land. But their need for land is different. They need to locate their factories on: land is not used as an input in the way it is used in farming. And in a market economy, they need land in a specific location: industry tends to be located closer to existing centres of population and commerce for the reason that greater profits are made possible by greater geographical accessibility. Therefore, the fight over industrialisation often becomes a fight between owners of industry and owners of land (including peasants). This fight is over not just an absolute piece of land but over its location.

To be able to understand the on-going struggles over industrialisation, we have to carefully distinguish between industrialisation per se which is necessary in all modern societies from its various historically specific forms, and we need to also distinguish between various forms of struggle over industrialisation.
There is a strong logic to locating industry on the land which is not currently cultivated or irregularly cultivated, in relatively less accessible locations and away from the locations of fertile land on which peasants are currently dependent on or which may soon be used. Why? Firstly, as mentioned above, industry does not need fertile land as an input. Location of a factory on or close to a fertile land destroys natural fertility of soil which is almost impossible to manufacture in industry. It is indeed a great social cost to use a fertile land for industrialisation which does not need it. Secondly, forcing the industry to locate in these areas (e.g. relatively less accessible areas, away from fertile land) will result in the development of new means of transportation and communication (which will also create jobs). Industrialisation in these less accessible locations will also give an impetus to agriculture. It is unfortunate that when industries could be located in more remote locations on land that is relatively less fertile, they are being located on currently cultivated fertile land. This must be fought against. This is one form of struggle over industrialisation.

If, however, a fertile land currently being cultivated must absolutely be used for an SEZ — and whether this must be the case should be democratically decided and not decided by business — several conditions must be laid out. The value of the land as a compensation to the family must be determined in relation to what the value of the land would be after the industries have come up. Under no circumstances must the living standards of the families losing the land and the families losing access to employment on that land (farm labourers, tenants) be allowed to be worse than what they were before the change in the use of the land. Indeed, because industrialisation will make possible greater production of wealth and because this is possible only by displacing the people who currently occupy the land and depend on its use, it must be an absolute precondition of displacement that their material and cultural needs (adequate food, clothes, shelter, education, health care, etc.) are satisfied (including by giving employment to at least a single person from every affected family with a living wage in the industry) and that environmental sustainability of the place and nearby-places is maintained. Investment must be made in the lives of the people who are affected before the investment is made in the SEZ itself. This will not happen automatically. This requires democratically mobilised struggle. This is the second form of struggle over industrialisation.

Peasants as peasants have been involved in heroic battles over dispossession from their land – in Bengal, in northern Orissa, in Maharashtra, and so many other places. This is not the decisive battle against the industrialist class (domestic or foreign), however. The decisive battle against it cannot be, and will not be, fought by peasants as property owners against dispossession, although local and temporary success is possible. The battle against unjust dispossession can only be successfully fought by urban workers in an alliance with peasants and rural workers. Note also that the issue of peasants being separated from land is not a single separable visible act of a group of industrialists, backed by the state. Given, for example, the high costs of farm inputs which come from the industry and given the decreasing prices of farm products from which industry benefits, millions are going into debt, and to clear their debt, peasants are selling their land. Many are leasing their land to better-off farmers, including those who enter into contract with industrialists, domestic and foreign, to produce farm products for industrial processing. There is therefore a potential site of struggle against this insidious form of dispossession from land. The industrialists who set up an SEZ by displacing peasants from land and the industrialists who benefit from high prices of goods sold to peasants which contribute to their economic unviability and separation from land are both members of the same family. The fight against high prices of industrial goods used by peasants is therefore an important part of the fight for a particular form of industrialisation, one that would seek to remove the differences between peasants and industry and the relations of oppression between them.

There is still another form of struggle over industrialisation. Peasants turned into the proletariat in the SEZs, in newly industrialising areas – whether located on fertile land, displacing peasants or in remote locations — will and must fight against the monied class, initially for better wages and working conditions. One may respond by saying that the SEZ framework of industrialisation does not allow for the working class organisation. But then who said that the SEZ must be a necessary form of industrialisation? Or if it does, who said that an SEZ – understood as an industrial cluster — must be one where workers are to be alienated from their democratic right to organise? If business has the right to make money, then surely, and in the interest of democracy, workers have the right to organise to demand a decent life? This is the fourth form of struggle over industrialisation, the struggle that connects workers of different industrial clusters and cities politically and that demands that industrialisation must be of a particular form such that those who do the work must be fully able to meet their social and cultural needs. An SEZ, an industrial project is not based on a one-time act of separating people from their land and livelihood. Much rather, the particular form of industrialisation that is in question is based on a continuous separation: separation of people from the product of their labour, from their blood and sweat. It represents endless money-making at one pole and limitless misery at another. This form of industrialisation does not just produce things that are of potential use. It reproduces an invisible relation of separation of masses from their lives, a relation between them and those who control their lives at work (and outside). So because separation of people from their land creates a ground for the second form of separation, the struggle against the former must be connected to the struggle over the latter, and can only be fully successful if it is connected that way.

Protecting the peasants does not necessarily mean protecting the peasant property. If industrialisation can better the conditions of peasants (i.e. outside of farming), perhaps ‘sacrificing’ their property to make room for industrialisation can be favourably considered. Everyone must be provided with an opportunity to live a life with dignity. Whether it is in industry or farming should, ordinarily, be beside the matter. But there is an ‘if’, as in ‘If industrialisation can better conditions of life of peasants…’. Industrialisation, whether led by state-capital or private capital has not done much for millions of peasants. And it won’t unless it is a site of contestation.

The current struggles around SEZs and displacement appear to be a little narrow. They are often too defensive. The message of these struggles seems to be: ‘don’t take away our land, leave us alone (to our misery)’. The struggle against displacement should be a part of larger family of struggles, i.e. struggles over industrialisation as such. This is because the objects of struggle are objectively inter-connected. The fight against SEZs must be a fight against a particular existing form of industrialisation which leads to double dispossession: political acts of dispossession or primitive accumulation and dispossession through market mechanisms (rising prices of industrial goods leading to debt). A part of the fight should also be within SEZs (and other industrialised areas). Seen in another way, the fight against SEZs and displacement is a fight for a certain form of industrialisation, which, in turn, is a fight for (deepening) democracy and for the satisfaction of social, cultural and ecological needs of those who are displaced to make room for industries, those who lose land because of rising prices of industrial goods, and those who work inside the industrial areas.

Raju J Das is an Associate Professor at York University, Toronto, Canada. Email: rajudas@yorku.ca

Cuba-ALBA lands are Tamils’ natural allies

Following is the text of Ron Ridenour’s talk in Chennai (November 12, 2011). Ron is in India for the launching of the Indian edition of his books “Tamil Nation in Sri Lanka”, “Sounds of Venezuela”, and “Cuba: Revolution in Action”.

Greetings and appreciation to the Latin American Friendship Association of Chennai, India for inspiring me to become aware of the oppression of the Tamil people by the Sinhalese government of Sri Lanka, and for encouraging me to remind our comrade governments of Cuba and other ALBA country governments of their strong commitment to international solidarity to oppressed people everywhere.

Also I extend my appreciation to New Century Book House for publishing “Tamil Nation in Sri Lanka”, “Sounds of Venezuela”, and “Cuba: Revolution in Action”. Thank you Amarantha for your translation of the Venezuela book; Dhanapal Kumar for your translation of the Cuba book; and Thiagu for your translation-in-progress of the Tamil Nation book.

I start from the premise that Martin Luther King expressed: “Injustice anywhere is injustice everywhere”. In the country of my birth, The Devil’s Own Country, I experienced similar injustice committed against the native peoples and the black people as Tamils suffer, especially in Sri Lanka where they are subjugated to Shinalese chauvinism. I joined with millions of brothers and sisters of all colours to fight racism, to struggle for equal rights, for education and health care for all, even the basic right to vote.

Europeans invaded the Americans and stole the lands and wealth held by native peoples for thousands of years. They enslaved black Africans who they held as slaves and even after slavery ended they kept them as second-class citizens.

Black people developed various forms of struggle including civil disobedience, sit-ins, pickets, mass rallies, propaganda, and voting for equality where possible. Another form of struggle was the Black Panther Party’s armed self-defence when attacked by Ku Klux Klan and the ruling class’ police. Another form was the Gravey Movement that called for separation from the United States, demanding territory in the south. Very much like the Tamils after the 1976 Vattukottai resolution.

In the United States millions of blacks and whites fought this racist discrimination for over a century and eventually won most basic rights but not before millions were arrested, imprisoned for long times, and many murdered. Many thousands of black people were lynched, burned alive, mutilated, tortured to death until the 1980s.

Fidel Castro: “Those who are exploited are our compatriots all over the world; and the exploiters all over the world are out enemies…Our country is really the whole world, and all the revolutionaries of the world are our brothers.” “To be internationalist is to settle our debt with humanity.”

Che Guevara from “Socialism and Man”: “The revolutionary is the ideological motor force of the revolution. If he forgets his proletarian internationalism, the revolution, which he heads will cease to be an inspiring force and he will sink into a comfortable lethargy, which imperialism, our irreconcilable enemy, will utilize well. Proletarian internationalism is a duty, but it is also a revolutionary necessity. So we educate our people.”

I believe that these principles apply to the Tamils of Sri Lanka. I believe Che would agree with your struggle for equality and when not possible to achieve within the Sri Lankan chauvinist context, he would understand your fight for your own nationhood.

I think this is also what Lenin meant in his 1916 thesis, “The Socialist Revolution and the Right of Nations to Self-Determination”:

“Victorious socialism must necessarily establish a full democracy and, consequently, not only introduce full equality of nations but also realize the right of the oppressed nations to self-determination, that is, the right to free political separation.”

I am hurt and deeply disappointed that the government of Cuba—where I have lived and worked side by side with the people and government for eight years—as well as the socialist-progressive governments of Venezuela, Bolivia and other Latin American governments have not understood that those principles must apply to the Tamil people of Sri Lanka. I got involved in solidarity with your people’s struggle because you have been so brutally treated, and because of these righteous principles expressed by Lenin, Fidel and Che. I have written critically about these governments siding with the Sinhalese governments of Sri Lanka while it denies the Tamil people those basic principles and rights, and commits genocide.

Perhaps Cuba+ have not understood the history of struggle that Tamils have undergone to win full equal rights before taking up arms. For 30 years you fought peacefully but you were met with brutal force, with pogroms/massacres of hundreds and thousands of people—even worse than that used against blacks in the US, and against Palestinians by Israelis. And, unfortunately, it was not only the governments that have done this against Tamils but also misguided Buddhist monks who betray the peaceful, coexistence values of Buddhism.

Your people’s organizations must meet and discuss these realities with the communist and socialist parties and with people’s grass roots and indigenous organizations in Latin America and elsewhere. You must explain to them your history, why you had to take up arms and fight for separation, for an independent nation. They have to hear of your suffering, of your struggles, why Tamil Eelam is a NECESSITY. You must remind them what they say about international solidarity, about what Lenin meant about political separation when the ruling powers will not grant a people their basic democratic and equal rights.

The progressive governments have won majority votes for new constitutions in Bolivia, in Ecuador, in Venezuela that grant equal rights to their indigenous peoples. In Bolivia, for instance, under the new constitution there are four official national languages, three of them are indigenous ones as well as Spanish. The same equalitarian development is happening in several progressive-pro socialist governments in Latin America. If these people could know you simply want these same rights, they would listen to you and stop backing Sri Lanka. But they have been misguided because when they hear the worst terrorist in the world—The United States of America government—raise a little finger of possible criticism that maybe the Sri Lanka government should investigate itself to find some official scapegoat for violating human rights, Cuba+ react against this hypocrisy. But they must know that in this case the Sri Lanka government is a terrible violator of human rights, and not just against the Tamils, but also against Muslims, the indigenous tribes, and it also exploits Sinhalese workers and the poor, and castes.

We must understand that Cuba, and so many governments and peoples, has been victimized by the United States false accusation that it commits “human rights abuse”. Cuba has been blockaded by the US since its victory in 1959. The US tried to overthrow the new revolution in April 1961. It brought the entire world to the brink of a nuclear war in October 1962. The US has sabotaged Cuba, murdered and handicapped thousands of its citizens; it even infiltrated bacteriological diseases in its livestock, its grains and sugar cane.

What has Cuba done to “deserve” this murderous aggression? It has done what Big Capital does not do, what imperialists will not do. It has introduced full and free education and health care. It has assured every citizen food and shelter. No one starves. 80% of its people own their own homes after paying the state simply what it actually costs to build them.

It has organized an excellent system of disaster management in which people and their animals are evacuated before hurricanes hit the island nation. And more often than not no one is killed, and their livestock is saved. That is not what happens in the United States especially in the areas where blacks and poor people live and are struck by natural disasters.

Cuba came to the aid of Angola when attacked by apartheid South Africa. Cuba, alongside with the new Venezuela, comes to the aid of tens of millions of people in scores of land around the world with their medical care, curing even blindness, and educating people to read and write, offering sports and technical assistance. Cuba has more doctors serving the international arena than is offered by all the governments in the United Nations. Cuba does not export war and torture, disease and starvation. It exports “human capital”.

Tamils in Tamil Nadu, Sri Lanka Tamil refugees here and in the Diaspora should not rely on the greatest terrorist in the world to help them. The Yankees offer no help without humiliating costs. We must be aware that since World War 11, the US has invaded/intervened militarily 160 times in 66 countries. We must understand that now with a black-faced puppet president of Big Capital, the imperialists are at war in seven countries: Afghanistan, Iraq, Pakistan, Libya, Somalia, Ethiopia and now Uganda. They kill tens of millions; they torture hundreds of thousands; they starve hundreds of millions.

US’s staunch ally, Zionist Israel commits genocide against the Palestinian people. It offered Mossad intelligence, great amounts of weaponry, killer aircraft and even pilots to Sri Lanka, in order to murder the Tamils. After the end of the war, May 2009, Sri Lanka sent its military chief-of-staff, Donald Perera, to Israel as its ambassador, a reward for Zionist assistance. He told the largest Zionist daily, Yedioth Abornoth,: “I consider your country a partner in the war against terror,” thus coupling terrorism with the Palestinians’ struggle for their homeland and the Tamils’ simple right to exist in peace and equality.

Perera spoke proudly of having “a great relationship with your military industries and with Israel Aerospace industries.”

Perera spoke about the murder, on May 31, 2010, of nine Turkish solidarity activists bound for Gaza with survival supplies: “I can understand that Israel had to protect itself.”

Perhaps because of the complexity of geo-politics, the history of standing for sovereignty of the member nations of the Non-Alignment Movement (NAM), the leaders of Cuba and ALBA lands (Bolivarian Alliance of the Peoples of Latin America) cannot support the goal of a separate nation within Sri Lanka. But they could be convinced to chastise the Sri Lankan government for its atrocities against the Tamil people, and the other oppressed people under the chauvinist Sinhalese leadership. They could see within the context of their moral ideology that it is only right that Tamils must have equality and the basic right to exist without fear of murder and takeovers of their homes and lands. Your peoples’ organizations should remind these pro-Palestinian governments that it is only Israel that supports the US blockade against Cuba; that it is the US and Israel that lead the tiny opposition to Palestine’s right to be a member of the United Nations.

Regardless of whether Cuba has achieved socialism—it is a long process after all and there is so much destruction and subversion coming from the Yankee imperialists—the Cuban people and the government are still worthy of our love and support. They have conducted no wars or torture against any people and they have helped many millions. It is now time that they are approached by all your organizations and become convinced to come to the aid of their natural brothers and sisters in Sri Lanka—the oppressed Tamil people.

We have wandered over the deserts and the seas. We have been hungry and thirsty. We have been murdered and tortured. We are of the working class, of the castes; we are many races and nationalities. We share a common vision: freedom and equality; bread and water on the table; a shelter over our heads. We must fight together to live in peace and harmony.

We must unite around the world and struggle for an independent international investigation into war crimes and crimes against humanity against Sri Lanka government leaders.

We must call for a worldwide BOYCOTT of Sri Lanka.
CHE GUEVARA would be on our side today!

Taking the Jajabor’s Journey Forward: Remembering Bhupen Hazarika

Mayur Chetia and Nayanjyoti

Mourning people from across Assam assemble in miles and miles of roads leading up to Bhupen Hazarika’s funeral. He’s a restless jajabor/wanderer no more. Paeans after paeans are being sung now after the ‘great cultural hero’, the ‘greatest Assamese’, the believer in ‘the power of the nation’ (the ‘nation’ being ‘Akhand Bharat’ or ‘Brihottor Axom’, depending on whichever variety of nationalists sing). Bhupenda is dead. Assam is in despair.

Despair and tears are nothing new to be offered by the people of the region, daily humiliated by their exploited, displaced existence. These intricacies of social existence lie shining sharply or muffled in Hazarika’s songs and journey over the years. The music is everywhere, even at the funeral, where of the reported 100,000 people, more were singing than crying. There is arguably no one in Assam who has not known, loved, hated, listened and sung Hazarika, and whom he has not sung of. And this is much before mass media as we know today existed.

In this fractured land where ‘identity’ is supposed to be the reigning logic of existence, of unity or separation, Hazarika touched, sung and wove a rich and ambiguous cultural fabric. And because of it, we find ourselves confronting a troubled legacy, a serpentine history. Absolute ‘consistency’ is perhaps not a desirable quality and much more so with questions and figures of culture. But Bhupen Hazarika’s jajabor/nomadic inconsistency, and so perhaps the ups and downs of the journey of those whom he sang for and about, is historic. Riding on the energy of the communist-led peasant uprisings which lasted up to the mid 1950s in Assam, Hazarika’s radicalism borrowed directly from the ‘people’s singer’, the communist legacy of Comrade Bishnu Rabha and Jyoti Prasad Agarwala. Thus Hazarika would declare ‘kasi khonot aji bor suk’ (‘my sickle is too sharp today’). When the Indian Peoples’ Theatre Association (IPTA) had its dynamic heyday, Bhupen Hazarika was its president. He was a socialist when South Asia was gripped by its promise. He sang of hearing its echoes, of the energy of the masses, of the red sun on his black hair, from the depths of the night- ‘mur gaon’ore xeema’re, paharor xipare, nixar siyortir protidhoni xunu’ (‘from the end of the horizon of my village, from across the hills, echoes come to me of the cry of the night’). He was then ‘prothom nohoi, dritiyo nohoi, tritiyo srenir jatri’ (‘not of the first, not of the second- we are travelers of the third class’). Celebrating the vitality of the working masses, he identified himself as a co-traveler chugging ‘towards the destination together’.

But as the peasant uprisings were contained, this radicalism which was in identification with the stirrings of the tiller-of-the-land turned into the jingoist one of the son-of-the-soil, and come the Indo-China war of 1962, Hazarika turned into a ‘patriotic’ nationalist. He would discover terror and bloodshed committed on the hapless (sic) Indian Army soldiers by the Chinese Peoples’ Liberation Army, and demand a strong defense against the ‘violent marauders’ along the Himalayas (‘aji kameng ximanta dekhilu, dekhi xotrur poxuttva sinilu’ (‘today I saw Kameng border, and recognized the enemy’s bestiality’). However, this hatred for the Chinese proved to be short-lived. For Hazarika, the jajabor/internationalist, who loved to talk of Gorky and his tales sitting at the tomb of Mark Twain’, it could have been hardly otherwise. Nonetheless, this contradictory pull between a rabid form of nationalism and the spirit of internationalism continued to haunt him his entire life.

Contradictions and ambiguities also followed his engagement with the six year long anti-immigrant Assam movement which started in 1979. On the one hand Hazarika would, supporting the mass character of the movement, also attest to its principal aim of the expulsion of peasant migrants from Bangladesh led by the All Assam Students Union (AASU). And on the other, it was precisely during its heydays, when sentiments were sharpening against ‘migrants’ conflated with Muslims as a whole, that he composed and sang ‘Mohabahu Brahmaputra’ where he painted the long history of migration and assimilation of diverse people which built a composite culture in the region, singing ‘podda nodir dhumuhat pori, koto xotojon aahiley; luit’or duyu parote kotona atithik adoriley … kisu lobo lagey, kisu dibo lagey, jin jaboloi holey…Robindranatheo koley’ (‘caught on the storm of river Podda, hundreds came, and the banks of the Brahmaputra welcomed them as guests … take some, give some, to melt into each other…also said Rabindranath’). Though often interpreted as a liberal plea, this can be read as a warning of the danger of a sectarian politics of essentialising, of the aggressive upper-caste Assamese Hindu colour of the movement, which sought to violently erase this myriad history into extinction. His assertion that ‘we all have a history of migration and thus we (including the migrants from the erstwhile East-Bengal, now Bangladesh) must strive to live together’, baffled both the supporters as well as the opponents of the movement. Many within AASU began to suspect his support for the movement, as despite his apparent avowal that the Assamese people are in the danger of becoming homeless in their own land (the official AASU line), all he had to offer as a solution was a narrative of migration- hardly a satisfactory answer to the requirements of a sharp anti-immigrant tenor.

Then with the rise of the United Liberation Front of Assam (ULFA) in the late 1980s-early 1990s, he sings of the countless blood-drenched sacrifices and the new meaning of the coming sunrise in the east (ULFA’s symbol is a rising sun). Ever enthusiastic of the potential of collective action and need for self-determination by the people, many would say, the sharpness of an anti-Indian state position and a critique of ‘Operation Bajrang’ brand of military domination, expected of a bard of a subjugated population was never there in him. A systemic critique would then be a muffled echo in his songs, as he would even turn the battle cries of the working class into abstract liberal appeals for humanity. Thus though the pathos of loss and ceaseless motion are captured Hazarika’s memorable voice in ‘bistirno parore’, his translation of the melancholy and anger of the worker with capitalist and racist exploitation in Paul Robeson’s Ol’ Man River becomes a mere petty bourgeois radical angst with the erosion of vague societal values in modern times.

With the ever more naked rightist turn in the political life of Assam’s middle classes in the late 1990s, Hazarika followed suit. With the formation of the NDA government (Asom Gana Parishad or AGP was part of the coalition) in 1998, his political journey came to its culmination with viewing the rabidly communal RSS as the authentic agent of social transformation. He even contested a Lok Sabha seat from Guwahati (which he fortunately lost) on a BJP ticket in 2004, with its cadres blaring his humanist plea ‘mahuhe manuhor babey, jodihe okonu nabhabey…bhabibo kunenu kuwa, xomonia’ (‘if man doesn’t think of man … who will?’) on their election vans. Under the pressure of RSS, he even tried to replace the word Axom with Bharat (as Axom is only to be subsumed within the larger Indian national discourse) in some of his old compositions, but these modifications never became popular. Hazarika’s use of rhetorical forms, like of the ‘virgin earth’ and ‘nation as the mother’ and thus someone to be protected, have been used by patriarchal chauvinists, and this tinge in his content had itself perhaps led to his ‘straying’ into the right wing fold who today find it easy to appropriate him as their own.

Similar turns can also be read in celebrated cultural figures like Bob Dylan who went from being the anthem singer of the radical 1960s generation in the United States to a controversial tryst with a particularly devout form of Christianity. His twists and turns apart, Hazarika did give creative expression to a whole range of feelings of the people of the region, hardly ever discovered by those who had officially avowed ‘art for the sake of society’. Establishing such a chord with people is hardly possible for the crass careerist, and Hazarika, to be sure, was not among them. His compositions blurred the lines between the classical and the folk, between ‘high culture’ and the popular. If he was skilled in composing highly sanskritised Assamese poetry, he was equally at ease in giving voice to the joyous melody of the elephant hunter from Xibaxagor who seduces the gabhoru of Gauripur with his rustic Bihu songs. He was perhaps also the first one to bring the qawwali genre into Assamese (‘samma thakile jarur jarur’). And his songs of love and longing are almost always permeated with a high bout of subversive eroticism, a taboo in the caste Hindu households of the Assamese Shreejuts (‘sikmik bijuli, kije tumar xongo priya’). Thus he declares, ‘xomajor niti niyom bhongatu notun niyom’ (‘breaking old rules is the rule of today’). Since the late 1990s (along with the rightist turn in his politics), Hazarika’s creativity was in rapid decline. He wrote very little in these years and though he composed a few songs for some Bollywood films, they were far inferior, in content and form, to his earlier compositions.

With Hazarika, the only ‘consistency’ then is of the love for wandering, a constant restless flux. A joyous yet troubled sense of celebration with the changing current and flows of the Brahmaputra being the womb and funeral of the numberless cultures melting into each other, led him also to the Podda, the Mississippi and the Volga. In ‘moi eti jajabor’, after the first two stanzas of such wanderings, he reflects on his peripatetic musings, saying ‘bohu jajabor lokhyo bihin, mur pise ase pon’ (‘many wanderers are directionless, but not me’) and in the next stanza goes on to specify why this is so. He pauses a while, saddened and wondering, at the immense inequality between ‘the rows of skyscrapers and the homeless in their shadows’. In his own jajaboria way he identifies the atrocities, loud or silent, stemming from the interstices of the world, and joining voice with the joyous songs of the people struggling against them, moves on again.

For some time now and at his death, when various varieties of nationalists are vying to uphold him as their hero, it would perhaps be more appropriate to read him at best as a signifier of changing times, wound up with the fortunes of various strata of the people of the region. He was never, as the nationalists would have us believe, a poster boy for ‘Akhand Bharat’ or ‘Brihottor Axom’, consistent with belief in the power of the nation. His belief in people and their creative collectivity at times borrowed from the liberal language and metaphors, and the chauvinist turn of his politics can probably be read in this, but a stress on isolated parochial history and/or pre-critical sense of superiority was never his agenda. Even while acquiescing at times with the linguistic Assamese nationalism of AASU which was based on closure, Hazarika nonetheless also continued singing in Bengali and Hindi as also in many other languages, ever in search for the continuities (a friend from Bangladesh just called yesterday to say that many in Bangladesh will probably only now know that he was an Assamese, and not a Bengali!). This also cannot be read (as the triumphant Indian nationalist would have it) as agreeing uncritically to the idea of a homogeneous ‘great Indian nation’. This search is a continuous one which goes beyond the nation. His repeated stress on the metaphor of the ‘river’ and of migration histories brings this out. The song of the young female worker in the tea plantation, who distinguishes herself from the mainstream caste Hindu culture, singing ‘Laxmi nohoi, mure naam saameli’(‘No, my name is not Laxmi; I am Saameli’), also brings this is a case in point where the pathos of the displaced journey of indentured labour and the conditions of bondage under which she worked is brought to life.

We look at this legacy of Hazarika today, when the ashes of countless revolts of the people of the region lie scattered over its plains and hills. As we enter a new phase of capitalist exploitation and uncertainty, the brutalized people search for new forms of organization and collectivity, its new voice. It mourns its singer at this hour, critically appraising him, seeking to wrench him free from the violence of the right wing nationalists, and sing anew the songs of the people. Just days before his death, Hazarika expressed a desire to be cremated near the tomb of his communist mentor, his dear Bistuda or Comrade Bishnu Rabha. Perhaps he wanted to return where he really belonged: to the theatre of creation rumbling in the hearth of the working people. We must fulfill this last wish of his while evaluating his life, taking his songs and journey forward. This year itself, two radical peoples’ theatre personalities, Badal Sircar and Gursharan Singh, who sung with and of the vitality and creativity of the working classes passed away. With Hazarika, even with his troubled legacy, we need to reclaim the voice which once spoke of and inspired the working masses, with whom he sought to melt, singing…

Xitore xemeka rati…
Bostro bihin kunu khetiyokor,
Bhagi pora pojatir tunh jui ekurat,
Umi umi joli thoka,
Raktim jen eti uttap hou

Xemeka xemeka rati…
Khadyo bihin kunu din majoor’or,
Prano’te lukai thoka xudha agoni’r,
Hotathe bhomoki utha prosondo jen, eti pratap hau

Kontho rudho kunu xu gayokor
Probhat anibo pora,
Othoso nuguwa, kunu somor gitor babey,
Moi jen eti sudha kontho hou

(On a wilting winter night, may I be,
in a clothless peasant’s broken hut,
of the slowly burning ember from the hay,
the red glowing warmth. .

Wilting winter night, and may I be,
from the fire of the empty-stomach of a daily labourer,
the suddenly erupting power,
burning bright …

Of a voiceless singer’s unsung war song,
which can wrench out the dawn,
may I be, the music …)

Beverly Silver on “The End of the long 20th Century”

Courtesy: Labournet.tv

Corruption and Class Discontent: The Contours of Bourgeois Political Forms and State-Formation

Maya John

Early this year a relatively unknown 74-year old Gandhian, Kisan Baburao Hazare (also known as Anna Hazare), shot to fame for raising a campaign against corruption. For days on end, Anna Hazare haunted our television sets, and details of his campaign greeted us every morning in almost all newspapers. Perhaps some of the readers of this article were avid supporters of the crusade he led, and perhaps some were vocal or even silent critics. However, now that the high point of the campaign has passed and tempers and anxieties have ebbed, a calm and composed assessment of anti-corruption campaigns may be pursued. This paper is one such endeavour to sum up and assess the contours of the ‘India Against Corruption’ campaign. A special focus of the paper is on the process, whereby anti-corruption campaigns conflate the discontent of exploited and oppressed classes with the interests of the economically dominant class, i.e. the class of capitalists. This subsumption or conflation of differing class discontent is intrinsic to anti-corruption campaigns and it is this process which provides such campaigns their distinctive nature. It is argued here that the ‘India Against Corruption’ campaign corresponds with the interests of international as well as Indian capitalists. For the capitalist class an “efficient” and “incorrupt” administration has become a necessity to sustain on-the-ground implementation of pro-capitalist policies and laws. This demand by the capitalist class for a strong state has emerged in the context of growing mass discontent among India’s poor, as well a large section of India’s middle class (1), against brutal capitalist appropriation of public resources. In a well-formulated political manoeuvre, Indian and international capitalist lobbies have hand-picked and promoted NGO leaders in a bid to use them as authoritative pressure groups whom the state is compelled to consult in the process of policy formation and implementation. These selected leaders have been superimposed on the masses, as a result of which the discontent of the masses has been conveniently misdirected towards the capitalist understanding of corruption, and hence, towards a bourgeois resolution of the problem.

Hijacking mass discontent, anti-corruption struggles like Anna Hazare’s campaign work towards restoring faith in the given bourgeois political structure, i.e. by projecting that a “pure” and “incorrupt” form of such a structure is even possible. Overshadowed by the anti-corruption rhetoric is the fact that the intrinsic nature of the bourgeois political system is to preserve capitalist exploitation and oppression of other classes. Precisely because anti-corruption crusades are devoid of an understanding of exploitation they are campaigns that exist under bourgeois hegemony. However, movements that are hegemonised by the bourgeoisie still manage to hitch mass discontent to the wagon of capital. The paper explains this disturbing trend in terms of the particular form in which the bourgeois political system has evolved. This form has allowed the bourgeois state to control many mass upheavals by coopting certain class forces and individuals within mass movements. Such cooption is often pursued by selecting and placing leaders in a privileged position vis-à-vis the masses, thereby, providing them a tangible stake in bourgeois democracy. Cooption is also made possible by misdirecting the petty bourgeois discontent, which exists in mass movements, towards an oligarchic tendency integral to bourgeois democracy.

The (Dis)content of Anti-Corruption Campaigns – A Class Analysis

Judging from the Campaign’s propaganda, corruption was portrayed as a generalised problem experienced by all (the working class, the middle class and capitalists), and hence, uniting all. In other words, a strong notion of equivalence in discontent was the driving force of the Campaign. In reality, this carefully thought-out political manoeuvre to establish such equivalence sought to conceal and sideline the major contradictions between the interests of the different participants. Let us examine how the anti-corruption rhetoric is shaped by the needs of the capitalist class, and how it simultaneously obscures class antagonisms.

A bulk of support for anti-corruption campaigns and initiatives comes from capitalists, business entrepreneurs and the likes. Without a doubt, for corporate firms and capitalists the major concern is to prevent corrupt practices like bribery from jeopardising the prospects of individual capitalist firms in the competition for contracts, natural resources, etc. Furthermore, each capitalist who resorts to bribery is also confronted by the contradiction that comes with corruption, i.e. its value-enhancing effects and its value-reducing effects. Corruption, also identified in bourgeois terminology as “rent”, is a portion of surplus value that can enhance value creation by winning for the individual capitalist greater access to market procurements, tenders, credit, licenses, and facilities like irrigation and subsidised electricity to capitalist farms and manufacturing units. In addition to these, corruption also facilitates the transfer of public assets and natural resources to an individual capitalist firm. However, a potential risk is that bureaucrats and politicians fail to deliver after receiving bribes since corrupt agreements are usually legally unenforceable. Corruption also initiates value-reducing effects for other individual capitalists in the field, especially when it is monopolistic capitalist houses that resort to such practices. The profitable gain of one capitalist house cuts significantly into the profits of competitors. In the case of big capitalist houses with monopolistic tendencies, illegally procured advantage by them is particularly troubling for smaller competitors and other big capitalist firms.

Eventually the capitalist class as a whole emerges as a united force against corruption because of the loss entailed by other capitalists in the process of corrupt dealings. Meanwhile, individual capitalists continue to face a prisoner’s dilemma: while it is agreed that all may profit from transparent procurement and good/honest code of conduct, it is still appealing to be the only one to deviate from such behaviour, and hence, to procure maximum profit. It is this dilemma and the desire to rise above it that is articulated in the collective mood of the capitalist class. This collective mood is highly critical of corruption and is expressed in the anti-corruption focus of national and international bodies like ASSOCHAM, FICCI, WTO, IMF, World Bank, etc. It is also endorsed by governments across the world. For example, in October 1995, Commerce Secretary Ron Brown, presented a CIA report to the US Congress, claiming that between 1994 and 1995 the US lost 36 billion dollars worth of business deals due to bribery and corruption.(2) The report urged the US Government to pressurise trading partners into a joint initiative to “level the playing field for all competitors”. Undoubtedly, the desire to level the playing field was the key intention behind the 1997 agreement signed by ministers of the 29 constituting nations of the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development (OECD).(3) According to this agreement, the 29 OECD member-nations were to enact laws by April 1998 to check bribery. In addition to corporate bodies and governments, even research institutes on management development as well as business consultancies are popularising corruption theories based on capitalist concerns. One such research project devised a Transparency International Corruption Perception Index (1996), which was based solely on the subjective evaluation of business entrepreneurs!

What is evident in such agreements, government reports, publications and initiatives of international bodies such as the IMF, World Bank, UNDP, etc., is the capitalist solution to the problem of corruption. For the capitalist class the solution to corruption lies in the introduction of anti-corruption legislation, and more importantly, in the replacement of discretionary (government) control over prices, production, distribution, etc., with the market mechanism. To elucidate, capitalists posit that further liberalisation of the economy, i.e. free play of market forces, will reduce bureaucratic power and rent-seeking behaviour of public officials. The influence of this “solution” has spread far and wide with powerful international bodies like the World Bank, IMF, etc. actively promoting the case for liberalisation in their conferences and summits (4), and making it one of the preconditions for loans they provide to “developing countries”. The pressure from capitalist lobbies in this regard is immense, which is why we find governments increasingly push for further liberalisation. Our own country’s prime minister, Manmohan Singh, addressed the Planning Commission during the height of Team Anna’s campaign, i.e. on August 20, 2011, in which he linked the question of combating corruption to the need for second-generation reforms, namely, tax reforms, reforms in the insurance and banking sector, enhanced FDI in retail, etc. Interestingly, Anna Hazare was completely silent when the prime minister spoke of second-generation reforms as a solution to corruption. It seems that on this point both of them think alike.

What is important to note about this perception that liberalisation is the solution to corruption is the exact context in which it has developed. In India today, a combination of native and foreign capital controls the economy. These capitalists have control over several key natural resources (land, oil and gas reserves, mines, water bodies, etc.) and are in the process of continuously acquiring more of such resources. To enable this process, the capitalist class has ensured that the state creates policies to restrict government control on the economy, thereby, allowing for greater appropriation of public resources by private companies. State policies have been influenced in this manner through several channels. To begin with international bodies such as the World Bank and IMF have pumped in loans and aid in return for certain structural change in the country’s policy-making. In addition to this, several countries representing interests of monopoly houses have consciously extended diplomatic support, military assistance and collaborated with Indian capital through various trade agreements, with the express purpose of transforming state policies in favour of liberalisation of the Indian economy. Due to the pressure from native and international capital, state policies have been geared towards privatisation, denationalisation, elimination of subsidies and budget austerity, which is characterised by the structural adjustment program (SAP), i.e. reduced state expenditure on the social sector.

Needless to say, at such a conjuncture where laws facilitating primitive accumulation are already in place, and where individuals/companies have gained access to these resources, the need then emerges for capitalists to create a level playing field among themselves. In other words, once the big bribe has been paid in the form of loans, aid, etc. to pave the way for policies supporting private appropriation of public resources, the need to further bribe so as to gain access to such resources becomes untenable in capitalist rationale. Furthermore, there now emerges for the capitalist class the necessity of a legal system that enforces laws of contract, inheritance, etc., and basically, guarantees protection of capitalist wealth whether it is gained illegally or legally. It is through this very same legal system that a definition of corruption is imposed on society, which is based directly on the capitalist perception. First, the capitalist perception identifies the use of public office for public gain as uneconomic, and a process that should be restricted. Secondly, this perception restricts the meaning of corruption to the practice of using public office for private gain. Thus, because the legal definition of corruption (5) is based on this capitalist perception it ends up legitimising privatization, denationalisation, as well as places the onus of corrupt activities entirely on public officials/bureaucrats while absolving capitalists of indulging in the same.

In sharp contrast to this legal (bourgeois) definition of corruption is the perception of the working class whose understanding of the term is based on discontent arising from problems that have immediate impact on their subsistence. The concern with inflation, for example, is heavily couched in the perception that the government is consciously allowing companies to cheat people by hiking prices of essential commodities in the interest of minting profits. Indeed, through skewed export policies, revised Mandi Acts, and laws permitting forward trading as well as the entry of big companies in retail trade, the government has gradually allowed private companies tremendous control over distribution, and hence, the legal right to hoard. Evidently, from the working class perspective, hoarding and consequently even the policy framework that allows for this practice is a form of corruption. However, their perception regarding price rise is not recognised as corruption by bourgeois law, which by its very logic legitimises the control of private companies in the retail trade. As a result, we find that the working class perception does not jell with the legal definition of corruption.

Another important part of what can be identified as corruption from the working class perspective is unemployment and the violation of “protective” labour legislation. For the working class, corruption is not a phenomenon that can be restricted to the immoral act of using public office for private profit. For them corruption also includes nepotism. This is understandable considering that the pressure to seek favours for employment does not stem from the “lack of suitable” qualifications in workers, but from the process of privatisation that generates fewer jobs. For example, private companies displace and dispossess thousands of poor peasants and adivasis in their bid to gain access to resource-rich lands. These adivasis and poor peasants are dispossessed by private companies that shamelessly claim to offer them jobs in their production units. The ground reality shows that an insignificant number of jobs are created, whereas the number of adivasis and POOR peasants displaced is markedly higher. Clearly, in the interest of private appropriation of resources, companies snatch people’s livelihoods in the garb of bringing “development and employment” to an area. Furthermore, these very same private companies consciously create unemployment by compelling fewer people to put in longer hours, and hence, to do more work. Majority of India’s employed population works for these private companies, which extract 12 to 14 hours of work, and also exploit their employees by violating several fundamental labour laws such as those pertaining to minimum wages, overtime compensation, the right to unionise, etc. None of these illegal practices were or are the concern of Team Anna, as is evident in Arvind Kejriwal’s admiration for the Delhi Metro. Interestingly, the same Delhi Metro is currently one of the chief violators of labour laws (6) in the country! Thus, it is evident that in the process of generating fewer jobs and defying labour laws, private companies brutally over-exploit the workforce they employ. The violation of labour laws by capitalists constitutes corruption from the working class perspective. In contrast, the capitalist class perceives labour laws as “favouring” workers, and hence, believes that circumvention of these “biased” laws is legitimate action and not corruption. It is in the interest of capitalists to transcend the condition in which they have to bypass labour laws, and it is with this sense of their interest that the capitalist class is pushing for the dismantling of labour laws altogether.

A similar contradiction between the working class and capitalist understanding of corruption is visible in the case of slum demolition, and the clamp-down on street hawkers. In both cases the impoverished working class pays bribes to local officials so as to prevent crackdowns on their homes, sources of livelihood, etc. Of course, for the working class this compulsion to bribe officials in return for the right to inhabit the city and to earn is a source of great discontent. Ironically, even builders and big retail companies are vocal critics of bribes extracted by land development officials and municipal officers of the government. On the surface, there may appear to be equivalence in discontent and understanding of corruption. However, no such equivalence exists. This is because the working class articulates a discontent that stems from being denied the right to inhabit the city. In contrast, builders and retail giants articulate a discontent that stems from their concern with the circumvention of slum clearance and anti-hawking laws. What is important to note, therefore, is that capitalists have a direct interest in discrediting bribery since it helps dispossessed groups to gain access to local organs of the state, and thereby, to be in a position to evade laws constituted in the interests of private capital. In this context, it is all the more necessary for the working class to fight against legislations like slum clearance acts, amended rent regulation laws that favour landlords, municipal acts that crackdown on hawking, etc. In other words, for the working class, the struggle against laws that create objective conditions for their oppression logically comes before any anti-corruption struggle. Likewise, the interest of the working class lies in struggles to prevent privatisation of the social sector, rather than in anti-corruption campaigns that do not perceive this privatisation as corruption. Let us examine how.

It is a fact that because the state is dismantling many of its production units (via a gradual process of privatisation) due to pressure from corporate bodies, it has very limited capital to invest in the social sector. With the withdrawal of the state, private companies – which are in constant search for newer and newer avenues of investment and profit-generation – have stepped into the field of education, health, etc. As a result, education and health policies driven by ideas of profit-generation have become norms of the day. This privatisation of the social sector has facilitated the collapse of government-subsidised health and educational institutions. On one hand, government schools and hospitals are limited in number, are understaffed and are run without proper infrastructure and facilities; and on the other, private schools, colleges and hospitals have sprung up, offering essential “social” services for considerable amounts of money. Clearly, it is only if you have the money now that you will receive better education or treatment. Needless to say, from the working-class perspective this rampant practice of ‘pay more for better education/treatment’ amounts to a bribe. For them as well as for a significant section of the middle class, the existence of profit-minting private schools and hospitals is as much corruption as the use of public office for private profit.

The instances discussed above show that a deep contradiction exists between the working class and capitalists on the question of corruption. First, the legal definition reduces corruption to bribery, embezzlement, black money, etc., thereby, excluding many practices, which the working class considers as corruption. Precisely because the legal definition is devoid of an understanding of exploitation, the legal perspective on corruption becomes redundant for the working class and other oppressed classes. Secondly, one of the key reasons why capitalists extend support to anti-corruption campaigns is to curb petty “corruptions” that the labouring masses use to circumvent pro-capitalist laws. Understandably then, rather than focusing on corruption, all those who are exploited or oppressed by the capitalist class stand to gain much more by fighting against laws that legitimise capitalist exploitation in the first place. Instead of becoming the fighting force of anti-corruption campaigns, the working class and other oppressed classes need to consider transcending the legal understanding of this practice.

Having said this, should the working class and middle class simply deny or wish away the frustration that stems from “babudom” prevalent in government offices? Of course, there is no point denying the fact that the procedure required for a ration card takes time, or that things work slowly at railway reservation counters. However, the sense of delay should be contextualised. We must consider the fact that the reason for such delay lies in the lack of sufficient office staff to man elaborate government schemes. Similarly, at rail reservation counters the shortage of staff as well as the technicalities involved in ticketing are the main cause of delay. More importantly, the frustration with “babudom” should be connected to the fact that we desire things to be done in the limited time we have in hand. In reality, our interests lie in pushing for greater employment of staff at government offices, as well as the provision for more casual leaves to attend to our own work. Indeed, if we do not engage with the problem of “babudom” in this larger context then our frustrations will continue to be used to undermine the remaining vestiges of the public sector. It is not being argued here that with substantial increase in the number of government staff employed in government offices, the tendency of “babudom” will automatically decline. The need still remains for machinery whereby government offices are monitored by the people themselves. It is only through such control that bureaucracy can be kept in check. Interestingly, despite its tall claims, the Jan Lokpal Bill drafted by Team Anna offers no such mechanism. Instead, the Lokpal is conceptualised as yet another government office manned by bureaucrats (who will be selected by a few elites), and which will function like an oligarchy.(7) Ultimately, the solution to bureau (office)-cracy (rule) cannot be more bureaucracy. Instead, the solution to bureaucracy lies only in more democracy.

Clearly, the misuse of working-class and middle-class frustration is the key strategy of campaigns such as ‘India Against Corruption’. It is a fact that for a long time now workers, landless labourers, poor peasants and adivasis have been struggling against growing dispossession, displacement, privatisation of the social sector, unemployment and brutal exploitation. However, the understanding of corruption embodied in the law (be it the UPA government’s version or Team Anna’s version of the legislation) is not a summation of these struggles. Instead, the legal understanding of corruption is superimposed on other more radical perspectives on corruption. Furthermore, the anti-corruption campaign imposed a particular form of leadership on the people, i.e. a leadership chosen from among NGOs, funded by bodies such as the World Bank, and aggressively promoted by the corporate media.(8)

Of course, what still remains to be explained at this point is why, despite a contradiction in interests and in the understanding of what constitutes corruption, did the masses rally around the ‘India Against Corruption’ campaign. The answer to this lies in the Campaign’s concerted efforts to project equivalence in discontent and goals by consciously positing a more flexible definition of corruption on the ground, which would appeal to the masses. For example, the Campaign attracted the support of the masses by playing on popular sentiment relating to problems such as price rise, poverty, etc. Meanwhile, it continued to negotiate with the government using a narrower legalistic definition of the term. Another deliberate strategy of Team Anna, which worked well for mass mobilisation, was to position corruption as the central predicament from which other problems originate. Therefore, an in-depth causal explanation of corruption (which would have pushed the debate towards exploring other definitions of corruption and to engage with other views surrounding the question) was downplayed, and instead, the campaign focused on solution prescription, i.e. a legal mechanism of addressing the issue. This is why the campaign evolved around a legal text, i.e., the Jan Lokpal bill, and was heavily based on the question of who had tabled a more “effective” version, Team Anna, NCPRI, or the government. This approach emphasising formal solutions reflects a tendency to marginalise debate on the question of causes. The fact of the matter is, the more you talk on causes the more do things get articulated in a more precise and uncompromising language. Solution prescription, on the other hand, is characterised by pragmatism and accommodation. After all, the Jan Lokpal bill (posited as the solution for corruption) has not broken ground by defining corruption in any way that is different from the existing Prevention of Corruption Act. It uses given legal norms provided in the Act as the yardstick to distinguish corrupt from non-corrupt acts.

In addition to these efforts, Team Anna consciously tried to project the existence of common interest embedded in “common” culture by resorting to an aggressive nationalistic cultural crusade. Indeed, a discourse pregnant with nationalistic imagery and slogans enabled Team Anna to unite disparate forces on a programme that actually favoured the dominant economic class (a point elucidated below). The slogan “Bharat Mata ki Jai”, for example, forged a symbolic unity between unequal citizens by conveniently projecting them as children of one mother.(9) Furthermore, when teamed with certain developments within the class of the petty bourgeoisie, such nationalistic ideology is known to elicit massive support from the petty-bourgeoisie.

This brings us directly to the question of what shapes middle class participation in social and political movements. The middle class or petty bourgeoisie is situated between two distinctly polarised classes, i.e. the capitalist class on one hand, and the working class on the other. As a class, it oscillates between an affluent position, which brings it closer to the capitalist class, and a position of impoverishment which brings it closer to the working class. This oscillation from one class position to another has created a tendency in the petty bourgeoisie to vacillate on issues, and to be co-opted, very often, by bourgeois ideology. In this context, we find that when it comes to corruption, the petty bourgeoisie identifies an external force, i.e. the political class as the culprit. Meanwhile, it will always project itself as an unwilling participant in corruption who gains little in the process. At such a juncture, the middle class may emerge as one of the most vocal critics of corruption.(10) The upwardly-mobile segment of the petty bourgeoisie is, in particular, a vehement critic for it perceives corruption as a contractual violence. This segment of new rich that has benefitted significantly from liberal reforms is open to the idea of further reform, and hence deeply suspicious of the state. To them almost any form of payment to the government is equivalent to their money being “stolen” by a public office. Of course, in slightly different circumstances, the very same petty bourgeoisie can be extremely silent on the question of corruption.

Because of its oscillating class position, the petty bourgeoisie functions narrow-mindedly. As reality would have it, at many conjunctures the interests of the petty bourgeoisie are in consonance with the interests of the property-owning class which extracts surplus value. At such conjunctures the interests of the property-owning class and petty bourgeoisie are positioned in contradiction to the interests of the labouring classes who generate surplus value. In other words, the fact that it gains at the loss of the working class and other oppressed classes (poor peasantry, dispossessed tribals, etc.) is not a problem for the petty bourgeoisie as it is conditioned, in many cases, to calculate its interests in direct opposition to that of the working class and other oppressed classes. For example, a middle-class youth working as an HR (Human Resources) manager for Maruti Suzuki knows for a fact that his further promotion depends on his skilful strike-breaking and arm-twisting techniques. There is no doubt that he will calculate his own interest and get promoted. Similarly, government employees who enjoy a cushioned existence due to the provision of several exclusive benefits to them by the state are prone to develop an indifferent if not intolerant attitude towards working-class struggles that raise the question of exploitation. As a result, if the middle class stands to gain, it will stand by the law that identifies only certain practices as corrupt and that legalises others. If it stands to lose, it will become a vocal critic. If we draw on the example of private schools, we will find that the middle class vacillates between a position in support of and a position against private-school education. The segment of the middle class that can still afford expensive private tuitions and private schooling will see nothing wrong in the “pay more for a better education” policy of private educational institutions. For the significant section of the middle class that increasingly finds it difficult to pay for private tuitions and schooling, the demands of private educational institutions will gradually come across as corruption and a practice antithetical to education values.

Moreover, the oscillating class position of the petty bourgeoisie generates a tendency for this class to be easily drawn to Fascist-nationalistic ideology. The petty bourgeoisie’s support for fascist-nationalistic ideology is an expression of their hostility towards, both, big capital, which threatens to pauperise them and the proletariat whose class position they are increasingly compelled to inhabit. Considering that a significant portion of India’s petty bourgeoisie is beginning to feel the pressure of persistent liberalisation, the ‘India Against Corruption’ campaign with its highly nationalistic overtones quickly became an outlet for venting petty bourgeois frustrations. Realising this Team Anna bombarded their Campaign with nationalistic imagery. In fact, deliberate references and analogies to India’s Freedom struggle were continuously drawn to the extent that Anna was projected as independent India’s “Mahatma” and the movement itself as India’s “second freedom” struggle. When criticised for using many conservative and reactionary nationalistic images/slogans, the Campaign deftly responded by putting up images of Bhagat Singh at its central protest venues and resorting to slogans like ‘Inqilab Zindabaad’. Of course, every time ‘Bharat Mata ki Jai’ was sloganeered, the slogan ‘Inqilab Zindabaad’ lost its meaning.

What we can conclude from the immediate discussion above is that, due to its contradictory class position, the middle class cannot be the fighting force in any movement that seeks to eradicate corruption in its totality. The tendency for this class to be coopted by bourgeois ideology is immense, and it is precisely for this reason that the bourgeoisie keeps the middle class as its key fighting force in movements it seeks to hegemonise.

Bourgeois Solutions to Mass Discontent

Coopting the middle class/petty bourgeoisie and positioning them in a non-antagonistic relation to the dominant economic class is just one of the ways in which the bourgeois ruling elites blunt challenges that seek to displace the dominant class’s control on the state. The economically dominant class, i.e. the capitalist class, reproduces its power even in conjunctures where opposition to it has led to growth of representatives from subordinate classes in the parliamentary structure. How have the ruling elite managed the rigorous instrumentalisation of the bourgeois state as a weapon of capitalist class interest, despite allowing the subordinate classes the right to vote and representation? Of course, the bourgeois state mediates between the capitalist class and dominated classes, as well as between conflicting competitive interests of the different sections within the capitalist class, in formally universalistic terms, clearly expressed in the motto: “Equality before the law”. However, since this mediation takes place in a social web woven by the relations of production dominated by the capitalist class, this formally universalistic intervention tends to reproduce the power of the capitalist class as a whole.

Many have identified the role of bribery, nepotism, etc. as the means through which the power of the capitalist class is reproduced by the bourgeois state. It is, indeed, a fact that bribes and inter-personal relations between capitalists and state leaders play a significant role in ensuring representation of the dominant economic class’ interests in the state apparatus. Scam after scam as well audits of bourgeois parties’ accounts reveal a lot about how political leaders are bought over by capitalist enterprises. Similarly, the tendency of businessmen to become politicians (and vice versa), as well as the tendency of businessmen, bureaucrats and politicians to share the same class position (11), provide the dominant economic class a firm footing in the representative form of politics as it exists today. An equally important role is played by bourgeois ideology that informs bureaucrats and politicians of what is right and wrong, what is possible, etc., and hence determines their conception of the legitimacy of capitalist interests.

Having said that, it is important to highlight the fact that if the aforementioned means are overemphasised then the more formidable and intricate forms of bourgeois intervention in the state are unnecessarily overshadowed. In fact, an overemphasis on bribery has wrongly led dissenting voices in society to believe that a clamp-down on corrupt practices will lead to autonomy of the state from control of the capitalist class. Unfortunately, many such dissenting voices fail to identify the intrinsically bourgeois form of the state. In reality, bribery and corrupt practices within given state apparatuses like Parliament are often expressions of the competition between individual capitalists. Even if such practices are removed, Parliament and other state apparatuses will continue to embody the common class interests of the capitalist class. This is because the particular form in which the bourgeois state exists, allows the state remarkable powers to integrate opposition voices and pacify movements.

The more sophisticated and intricate forms of bourgeois intervention that instrumentalise the state as a weapon of capitalist class interest are actually reflected in the integrative powers of the bourgeois state. The bourgeois state integrates outstanding individuals/notables, both from the dominant economic class as well as the dominated classes, in a process that can perhaps be described as the “natural selection” of leaders. In moments of political crisis (i.e. when radical movements are on the rise), the state prioritises the integration of notables from the subordinate/dominated classes. Typically, these notables are lawyers, ex-bureaucrats, heads of voluntary organisations, leaders of trade unions, intellectuals, etc., who consciously project a non-elite aura about themselves. There are two important aspects to this integration process, namely, (i) the severance of links between the masses and their leaders in the process of integration, and (ii) the transferring of the task of ensuring continued political domination of capital from Parliament to the upper levels of the state administration, and to ‘policy-planning groups’ that are heavily influenced by private lobbies of the capitalist class.

The severance of links between the masses and the leaders and sympathetic intellectuals of mass movements is a creation of the total structure and modalities of the state. This severance plays itself out in cooption of leaders and intellectuals of mass movements—a process which converts them from being representatives of the masses to “ideal/pure” representatives who go beyond “particular interests” and hence embody “universal interest”. In other words, in the process of negotiation, nomination to policy-formation committees and even elections, the leaders of mass movements learn to speak the language of reform. Indeed, the bourgeois democratic structures (Parliament, etc.) and modalities (negotiation, elections, constitution of “expert” committees/commissions, etc.) allow the masses the space to be heard only through representatives. By putting the leaders before the masses, bourgeois democracy then essentialises the masses-leader distinction, and creates the objective condition for leaders/representatives to decide on behalf of the masses. Being in the privileged position to decide on behalf of the masses, representatives then develop a tangible stake in this form of politics. They are able to actively exercise this privileged position precisely because the modalities of bourgeois democracy work towards sustaining them in this position. In addition to this, the privileged position of representatives is nurtured by a strong tendency in petty bourgeois participants of mass movements to be led from above by an “ideal”, “virtuous” representative whose “unwavering neutrality” will negotiate between conflicting interests of the petty bourgeoisie.

To elucidate how “civil society” groups, acting as an interface between the state and the masses, are ultimately reduced to instruments of state control over the masses, rather than instruments which mass movements can use to break bourgeois rule, let us examine certain intricacies of (bourgeois) state administration. It is important to note that the bourgeois state apparatus is divided into an executive and legislature that stand independently of each other. As a result, the executive enjoys vast powers to integrate dissenting voices, as well as incorporate bourgeois class interests through the constitution of unelected yet official ‘policy-planning groups’ that propose/recommend legislation etc. to various branches of the state apparatus. The selection to these high-powered ‘policy-planning groups’ inculcates both a competitive spirit among notables riding the waves of mass movements, as well as conformity with ruling ideology. By winning themselves a position in these coveted “think-tank” bodies, these notables become imposed leaders/representatives of the masses rather than leaders with an organic link to the masses. Another dominant trend within bourgeois state administration is the formation of policy-planning committees/commissions that are directly constitutive of capitalists and corporate lobbyists. Their recommendations have tremendous say in the policies implemented by various state departments.(12)

Having delineated some of the important mechanisms through which the bourgeois ruling elites blunt challenges that seek to displace their control on the state, let us turn to Team Anna’s campaign and see how it fits into this given scheme of bourgeois politics. First, Team Anna’s April campaign evolved around a struggle of notables who were competing for the coveted position on a joint committee that would be constituted through an executive order of the state. This is well reflected in the Campaign’s pamphlets, especially the first pamphlet, where the demand for the formation of such a committee was formally stated. Recollection of events will also show that Team Anna was quick to respond to the UPA government’s call for a joint committee, consisting of an equal number of representatives from the government and from Team Anna. This is why, in a matter of four days (!), Team Anna was willingly present at the negotiating table. Later in July when negotiations stagnated, it was because Team Anna increasingly felt their recommended version of the Lokpal Bill was losing ground to other competing versions, namely the government and NCPRI’s versions. Thus, concealed behind the spectacle of “challenging” the given political structure, were Team Anna’s conscious efforts to reinforce the bourgeois representative form of politics. Team Anna stood not for ‘power to the people’, but for greater “participatory governance” that is based on providing hand-picked notables, a privileged consultative status — a manoeuvre that fits well with the particular form in which bourgeois democracy exists.

Secondly, Team Anna’s campaign against corruption elicited support most significantly from the petty bourgeois class, in particular, from the segment that was based in urban areas. This support base also reveals a lot about the bourgeois nature of the campaign. The middles class, as discussed above, is characterised by a contradictory class position. As a consequence, they are often in the objective condition to deny the need of class struggle, and even the existence of classes. Hence, they tend to locate “good” and “bad” people in every class (for example, a good capitalist and a bad capitalist is a typical petty-bourgeois categorisation that is not based on a notion of class but on bourgeois morality). Since the petty bourgeoisie fail to think of themselves as a class, the identification of their interests begets no community feeling. The atomised existence of the petty bourgeoisie makes them identify their interests in individualistic, competitive and moralistic terms.(13) Highly insecure about whether someone from within them can represent their interests, the petty bourgeoisie develop a tendency to search for an organising force outside/above them. The delegation of authority to an outside force, whose interests rise above the “petty” issues of the middle class, is a tendency that ultimately upholds the bourgeois representative form of politics and also paves the way for over-centralisation of the state. This tendency is what played itself out in the ‘India Against Corruption’ campaign. The petty bourgeoisie saw in Anna a saviour-master — a figurehead who was characterised by innocence/purity, and who was a glorification of rustic, peasant and rural virtues. For the petty bourgeoisie, Anna became an idol on whom all virtues that were lacking in them were transplanted. Needless to say, Anna’s anti-corruption crusade jelled well with the middle-class desire for protection and arbitration by a neutral, incorrupt state, of competitive middle class interests.

Now that the ‘India Against Corruption’ campaign has been understood in the context of certain complexities with which bourgeois politics and the bourgeois state function, it is important to note other related reasons for Team Anna’s rise to prominence. One of these reasons pertains to how NGOs have increasingly become an ideal platform from which notables are selected by the bourgeois state and are subsequently used to erode the radical potential of many mass movements.

NGOs & Participatory Governance

It is a well-known fact that the ‘India Against Corruption’ campaign was a platform constituted by a number of NGOs. The key members of Team Anna (Kejriwal, Bedi, etc) are leaders of several NGOs, and have at some point or the other also been part of “expert” bodies/committees that are constitutive of “civil society” members, bureaucrats and state ministers. Indeed, most of these “civil society” members are desirous of being part of unelected yet official, high-powered committees and commissions that are formed to recommend policy-making models to the state. The problem with such commissions and committees lies in their promotion of an ensemble of politics in which elected representatives from different political parties are overshadowed by a league of experts/technocrats in the process of policymaking by the state. With privatisation the state has been pushed into a position of greater dependence on private funding and on the growing consultative status of NGOs (a status buttressed by powerful funding agencies and also by many politicians seeking to promote their henchmen). As a result, the tendency of the government to hand-pick “personnel” to manage difficult situations is on the rise, and this is reducing the role of traditional parties in the process of policy-formation. This tendency is in sync with some of the distrust nurtured by the middle class with respect to electoral politics. For the middle class, the sidelining of electoral politics and the search for newer ways to enter the system in order to clean it up have become more “effective” measures. Of course, this is a tendency geared towards elitocracy, i.e. a politics that forever seeks to empower a class of experts/technocrats/guardians above even the elected representatives of the masses.

Let us examine more closely the problematic nature of NGO politics. The first thing to note about NGOs is the fact that their growth parallels the withdrawal of the state from responsibilities which are intrinsic to it. It is important to understand why exactly NGOs ride the wave of privatisation. When they first emerge, most NGOs are little known voluntary organisations that are involved in localised self-help programmes and social work. However, it is from this very pool of voluntary, philanthropic organisations that big financial organisations such as the World Bank, International Monetary Fund (IMF) and Ford Foundation begin to pick leaders for their flagship “welfare” programmes.(14) These recruits and their NGOs are pampered with generous funding, awards and fully-paid trips to leadership training workshops where they imbibe principles such participatory management and good governance. Hand-picked, felicitated and awarded, NGOs run by such recruits move quickly into the limelight, becoming bodies that coopt many dissidents through elaborate volunteer programmes and campaigns.

The problem with principles such as good governance, participatory management, etc. is that they are intrinsically connected to various measures adopted by the World Bank (15) and IMF to facilitate the free play of market forces in developing countries.(16) The World Bank is well known for the role it played in the liberalisation of India’s economy. It has and continues to structure government policies in India through the structural adjustment program (SAP) — the implementation of which is a necessary rider to the loans it provides developing countries like ours. SAP is characterised by reduced state expenditure on the social sector, which then prepares the ground for private investment (and profit-generation) in this sector. These responsibilities are also sub-let to NGOs (17) that are funded by capitalist houses and organisations. In other words, Kejriwal and Bedi’s NGOs are beneficiaries of a corporate lobby (World Bank) that has spearheaded privatisation of the social sector, as well as crucial state resources. Such are the “hidden” stakes involved in generously giving not just funds but also much-hyped awards to NGO leaders.(18)

Interestingly, these NGOs receive generous funding from the World Bank to raise the issue of corruption and lack of transparency in administration. This pattern of funding seems more than coincidental and is, in reality, indicative of how seriously the World Bank seeks to establish NGOs as stalwarts of good governance that should get consultative status when it comes to government policies. Indeed, its funding has provided staying power to many NGOs like that of Kejriwal’s, and has also provided them the legitimacy to become a party that should be consulted by governments. This is why we see NGO personnel increasingly become part of many flagship project-preparations of the government (projects relating to the drafting legislation like the RTI Act, NREGA (19), the Food Security bill, etc.) as well as part of premier consultative bodies like the National Advisory Council (NAC), which is headed by the ruling UPA-II chairperson, Sonia Gandhi. Clearly then, through their numerous beneficiaries the World Bank and IMF indirectly influence (and stay informed of), policy preparations in the country.

Finally, another problem with NGOs is the fact that they raise issues in complete isolation from the question of class exploitation. Attempts to raise an issue as a question of class exploitation are consciously undercut by NGOs, which project such attempts as “irrational”, “unfeasible” and “unnecessarily agitational”. In the place of revolutionary class politics that pitches the working class against its exploiter, i.e. the capitalist class, NGOs promote a paradigm of politics that seeks to galvanise “people” against the state (sarkar). In other words, NGOs consciously project a loosely defined, external force, better known as “sarkar”, as the enemy of the people, i.e., the aam aadmi – a paradigm of politics that conceals prevailing class differentiation.

Leaders & THEIR Masses: Upholding Bourgeois Democracy

On perusal of the debate surrounding the ‘India Against Corruption’ campaign, one comes across views that emphasised an anti-systemic aspect to middle-class participation in the movement. Unfortunately, these observations are way off the mark for they belittle the nature of bourgeois hegemony as exercised over the ‘India Against Corruption’ campaign. Middle-class participation, for one, was deeply influenced by a very typical form of bourgeois politics, i.e. Gandhism. Typically, this form of politics relegates the masses to a position of spectators. Above the spectators looms large the immense powers of an individual leader (such as Gandhi in previous era, and Anna in today’s context). It is to the leader that the masses transfer their political being — (remember, the ‘Anna tum sangharsh karo, hum tumhare saath hai‘ slogan?). Of course, with the transfer of all powers and the authority to negotiate, to the leader himself/herself, a movement of such nature, leaves little space for the masses to be proactively part of decision-making, strategy-building and strategy-assessment processes. Whilst the masses may indulge in spontaneous actions and articulate certain demands in the process of the movement, their voice and actions are quickly suppressed. In fact, movements such as these are withdrawn precisely at the moment where possibilities of autonomous mass action from below are on the rise. During the colonial period the Non-Cooperation movement, for example, was withdrawn on Gandhi’s insistence at a conjuncture when autonomous mass action from below surfaced as a threat to bourgeois form of politics. This pattern was repeated throughout the national liberation movement.

Interestingly, some observers of the ‘India Against Corruption’ campaign have tried to trace autonomous mass action in the campaign by highlighting certain demands that emanated from the middle-class agitators, such as the demand for greater democratisation of the parliamentary system, the demand for electoral reforms, etc. For some observers the radical autonomy of the middle class was also reflected in the fact that it was actively discussing law, and hence, deciding the law’s content. However, this so-called autonomy of the masses is questionable. First, not one self-formulated demand from the masses was incorporated in the Campaign. Secondly, despite many political commentators hailing Anna’s crusade as the awakening of the middle class —an awakening that created an acute political crisis for the Indian state, the prevailing political system was upheld once again by middle class youth who voted during the Delhi University Students Union (DUSU) election. Considering the scepticism created by the ‘India Against Corruption’ campaign, middle-class youth should have boycotted the election en masse, or, voted in candidates from groups other than the mainstream parties. As we all know this did not happen.(20) Of course, the example is not comprehensive. Yet it is indicative of how compromised the participation of the middle-class masses was. The middle-class masses did not actively position themselves in opposition to the status quo, even after being in confrontation mode. Isn’t this why, despite the Campaign making no substantial gains, they melted away with Anna’s call to withdraw the struggle?(21)

If this is so, what do we make of demands for greater democratisation of the parliamentary system, for electoral reforms, etc., that emanated from the Ramlila Maidan? Yes, these demands rode the wave of discontent that stemmed from the masses. Undeniably, the mood surrounding the Campaign was characterised by a deep distrust in the credibility of the government. At that moment the masses seemed to be pointing their fingers at all politicians, at the entire scam-ridden UPA government, and most of all, at the undemocratic process of law-making. They wanted the laws to be made according to their needs and not in accordance with the calculations of the political class. On the face of it, such concerns may come across as an expression of a realm of politics, autonomous of (completely untouched by) Team Anna’s influence. However, on closer examination this evaluation is hard to sustain.

First, as pointed out by others, the anti-corruption ideology was Team Anna’s ploy to reinstate the faith of the masses in the given political system The focus of Team Anna’s approach was to clean up the current political system (embodied in Parliament) rather than replacing it — the logical conclusion of this being that a cleansed (incorrupt, more scrutinised) bourgeois political system is the answer to all concerns raised by the masses. Secondly, the anti-corruption ideology and strategies of Anna’s campaign did not seek to assert the sovereignty of the masses. In every Anna, Kejriwal or Hegde speech, if we read between the lines or simply refer, for that matter, to the Jan Lokpal bill, we find that it is not the people who will reign supreme, i.e. make laws (or, as in the case of the Lokpal, become judges). Far from envisaging a system of direct democracy where laws and policies of the state are decided by the masses, Team Anna’s strategies reflect a conscious effort to delegate such responsibilities to certain “well-informed citizens” (members of “civil society” groups), technocrats, etc. These experts, who are independent of mainstream political groupings, have been projected by Team Anna, as the necessary alternative to humbug politicians. Presumed here, of course, is an “innate incapability” of the masses to do the same. Without doubt, these experts, technocrats, etc. with their pedantic knowledge of existing laws and familiarity with the procedures of law-making, will advocate bourgeois interests by functioning within the ambit of the parliamentary system. The masses, in return, will continue to be distanced from the helm of affairs.

In other words, the demands for electoral and parliamentary reforms encapsulate a desire of the big bourgeoisie and a section of petty bourgeoisie to expand the current ambit of decision/policy-makers to include their direct representatives. Such demands hardly indicate that ‘pure ideals of democracy’ are being expressed. Indeed, such manoeuvres are nothing but repetitions of earlier struggles within the bourgeoisie for greater say in governance. An appropriate example comes to mind, and that is the struggle of the emerging Indian bourgeoisie for a greater stake in colonial governance. Between the late 19th century and early 20th century, the semi-feudal colonial state was time and time again compelled by the emerging Indian bourgeoisie to give it a greater share in the political structure. There was nothing anti-systemic in the Indian National Congress’s demand for Indianisation of administrative services or in its demand for Dominion Status. There was, in fact, an understanding that the British would rule (govern) better if they sub-let their responsibilities of governance to select (bourgeois) representatives/administrators. Hence, right up to the early 20th century there was only talk of changing the content and not the form of the colonial political structure. Eventually the colonial state, which was tied to the interests of British capital as well as that of feudal notables and elites of the colony, came to adjust its political structure due to growing powers of the Indian bourgeoisie. One cannot but help see a parallel in today’s developments. Today too, talk of parliamentary reforms, strong anti-corruption laws, power to the people, etc., has emerged in the context of a massive growth in the resources and wealth of India’s capitalist class. Let us not forget that demands for greater transparency, accountability and adjustment (not transformation) of the parliamentary system are being raised at a particular conjuncture, i.e. when India’s capitalist class is emerging as a big player in the global capitalist economy. For the capitalist class as a whole, an “efficient” and “incorrupt” administration is necessary for on-the-ground implementation of policies and laws that are based on its interests.

To sum up, plans of adjusting and reforming the parliamentary system are far from anti-systemic, and reflect efforts to reinforce the prevailing system. In this context, momentary discussions on law by a section of the middle-class masses should not be overemphasised, especially, when the mass of working class and a significant portion of the middle class continue to be distanced from the process of law-making. How can we celebrate such moments when India’s working class and a large portion of the middle class continue to be pushed into a non-political existence by long working hours, stressful work regimes, etc.? After all, which factory worker, construction worker, school teacher, vegetable vendor, IT professional, etc. has the time to participate in law-making? With the average work hours touching 12 to 14 hours a day, most of the country’s working population is in no position to participate in political decision-making. Their political existence is reduced to voting in a government once in five years. That once their vote is cast the people/voters have no say in policy decisions is a fact reflected most cruelly in their almost complete ignorance of legislation passed and issues debated in Parliament. Ironically, in order to amass support from the masses as well as misguided ‘Left’ individuals/groups that supported the ‘India Against Corruption’ campaign, Arvind Kejriwal opined that direct participation of the masses should be pursued through gram sabhas and “town-hall meetings”.(22) While saying so he completely elided the fact as to who would actually have the time to participate, especially when at the local level the economically dependent and caste-oppressed populace is forced to act as a captive population to the “upper”-caste rural elite and capitalist employers. Has Anna Hazare’s campaign really created one objective condition for their participation in the political process?

First Time as Tragedy, Second Time as Farce

Needless to say, discontent of the working class and other oppressed classes cannot be addressed by the prevailing political structure. The current form of representative politics, embodied in Parliament (and also seen in most mass movements), has not empowered the working class or middle class to debate state policies and to ratify legislation themselves before they are implemented. In fact, it has absolved the masses of these responsibilities and delegated them to “better-informed” representatives whose “business it is to solely do politics”. The parliamentary structure is, hence, based on a class of representatives who enjoy the exclusive right to define, affect and solve social problems. A political structure that provides such exclusive rights without any form of participation of the people creates the objective condition for such representatives to indulge in a politics that is antithetical to the interests of the masses. Unsurprisingly, this particular form of politics has increasingly become a lucrative business for the specially created class of representatives.

Unfortunately, perpetuation of the aforementioned political structure has been integral to several movements in this country, including that of Anna’s. This is due to the hegemonic control exercised by the bourgeoisie in almost all these movements. After successfully hegemonising the Indian national liberation struggle, India’s bourgeoisie has continued to hijack the discontent of the masses in the interest of its own internal struggles for greater control on the state. Indeed, the period of the 1960s, 1970s and 1980s witnessed heightened conflicts between different sections of the Indian bourgeoisie under the aegis of the federal form of state. By this time a rank of regional bourgeoisie had emerged in stiff opposition to the big/All India bourgeoisie. A classic example of this internal struggle within India’s capitalist class is the Jai Prakash Narayan movement, ironically projected as the country’s second freedom struggle. This movement emerged in the context where regional capitalists and the class of rich peasants clashed with the big/All India bourgeoisie in the process of diversifying their capital. The conflict between different sections of the bourgeoisie was the predominant force behind the mass movement that erupted. Rich peasants and the regional capitalists drew on caste ties, as well as hierarchical relations such as those between rich peasants and dependent labourers, to mobilise a mass movement around their particular demand, namely, protection and support of the state for greater capital accumulation and diversification pursued by them.

Intrinsic then to the bourgeois-dominated populist movements is the tendency to use the interests of the masses as a smokescreen for assertion of bourgeois class interests. Every such movement has framed the discourse on social problems keeping in mind the interests of the bourgeoisie. Consequently, the outcome of such movements has been the farcical repetition of the same tragedy, i.e. mass upsurge stemming from class discontent — its hijacking by bourgeois political forces through incorporation of leaders and sympathetic intellectuals into ever-expanding state structures — distancing masses from leaders and gradual displacement of the radical goals of the masses — reducing the movement’s agenda to the quest for an ideal representative and reform — perpetuation of representative form of politics at the cost of direct democracy — therefore, government change, not revolution — followed by cynicism and sense of betrayal among the masses. This cycle will repeat itself till the working class and petty bourgeoisie are able to break the control of bourgeois hegemony on their spontaneous movements, i.e. by realising that their own class interests lie in transcending the politics of reform and in pushing for transformation instead.(23)

Increasingly, the discontent of the masses requires a different form of politics that breaks the vicious cycle of farcical repetitions. Working class organisations preparing for a transformative form of politics need to retrieve earlier experiences of the working class movement so as to popularise formidable achievements in direct democracy. What was central to most of these achievements was the conscious endeavour of the revolutionary forces to gradually reduce the working hours of the people. This measure created the feasibility of political participation by the people, making it in fact a way of life. Furthermore, by devolving legislative powers and other responsibilities of governance to local bodies, active and direct political participation became a rational and desirable practice for the masses. Hence, a transformative form of politics (such as direct democracy) has to be bolstered by returning time to the masses. To go beyond the parliamentary system and return power to the people requires the smashing of capitalism itself. It is only by putting an end to capitalist exploitation and oppression of the working class and petty bourgeoisie that the revolutionary political potential of the masses can be actualised. For this, the working-class movement needs to tap into the discontent of the working class and proletarianised section of the petty bourgeoisie that is imbricated in the anti-corruption ideology. It is through this that claims for greater participatory democracy within capitalism can be exposed as an opportunistic play of words — empty slogans that make our neo-Gandhians (Anna and Kejriwal) appear as radical well-wishers of spontaneous mass movements.

Maya John is a research scholar and political activist based in Delhi University. She is working on the history of labour laws in India.

Notes:

(1) In this paper the term middle class and petty bourgeoisie will be used interchangeably. This section of people exists in between the two basic classes present in capitalism, i.e. the working class and capitalist class. The middle class is an extremely heterogeneous category consisting of shopkeepers, white-collared, relatively high-salaried employees, self-employed professionals, etc. The common characteristic shared by these heterogeneous elements is the fact that they all share (with the capitalist class) a portion of the surplus value created by the working class.

(2) See The Wall Street Journal, 12 October, 1995. The Strait Times, Singapore, 8 March 1996 raised this amount to 45 million dollars.

(3) See The Times, 28 May, 1997.

(4) See, The State in a Changing World: World Development Report, 1997, OUP; Corruption and Good Governance, Discussion Paper No.3, UNPD, Management, Development and Governance Division, New York; Unproductive Public Expenditure: A Pragmatic Approach to Policy Analysis, IMF Pamphlet Series 48, Washington D.C.

(5) See, The Prevention of Corruption Act (1988), section 2—Definition. Another contentious issue mentioned in section 19 of the Act prescribes initial sanction before investigation. This same contentious section is being retained in Jan Lokpal Bill where prior sanction of the Bench of Lokpal is still prescribed.

(6) See, Mehboob Jeelani, “The Insurgent”, Caravan, September 2011. Jeelani reports Kejriwal’s immense admiration for the Delhi Metro system. In reality, despite being the principal employer, the Delhi Metro does not regulate payments made and work schedules created by contractors to whom it has released tenders for construction, security, maintenance, etc. As a result, most construction workers, security staff and cleaners/housekeeping staff working for the Delhi Metro continue to be denied minimum wages, overtime compensation and an eight-hour work schedule.

(7) According to several estimations, the Lokpal will be one of the biggest government departments, with investigating/prosecuting vigilance officers; appellate grievance officers, support staff for these officers; etc. numbering some 2,19,640 persons or more. Furthermore, with the large spectrum of punitive powers Team Anna wants the Lokpal to have, the elaborate set-up would end up costing the exchequer nothing less than Rs 10,000 crore annually! Overlooking this point, certain organisations such as the CPI(ML) Red Star have come to highlight only certain procedural aspects of the Lokpal, i.e. its unelected nature, as a problem. However, this argument by focusing on procedure over content amounts to a trap. It misguides the working class movement to extend support to this Leviathan. Similarly, Udit Raj, although legitimately arguing in favour of reservation in the Lokpal Office in order to safeguard SC/ST government employees, ended up supporting the same.

(8) The corporate media has increasingly resorted to innovative ways of bringing to the limelight little-known NGOs, philanthropists, etc. through “leadership” hunts. It has also been investing in programmes that promote “charismatic” middle-class educated youth through reality shows that are in the constant search for “talent”. The Times of India, for example, funds the “Lead India” and “Social Impact” campaigns, in which successful and well-educated middle class youth as well as business entrepreneurs are felicitated for “commendable achievements” in their respective fields. This practice helps promote a particular tendency within the middle class, i.e. the tendency to idealise “enigmatic” persons, and to perceive talent as well as leadership as qualities inhabiting only a select few people. Indeed, the middle class often seeks to resolve some of the angst and insecurities that stem from its class position, through this practice of idealising individuals and transplanting all virtues that are lacking in it on to these select few individuals.

(9) This ideology of common national interest uses and reinforces “upper caste” elite notion of “merit” and “efficiency” which is evident in Team Anna’s flirting with anti-reservation and anti-Dalit tirade.

(10) The dominant middle class’s reificatory perception of corruption as bribery and embezzlement identifies only a part of the money in circulation, leaving aside the larger amount of money accumulated by over-exploitation of workers. Take the case of the scam surrounding the Commonwealth Games that only highlighted the billions of rupees circulated through bribery, etc., but not the more significant amount of wealth accumulated by capitalists through their over-exploitation of workers during the Games. Likewise, the report on the 2G spectrum scam brought to light how bribes amounting to Rs 2000 crore were passed on to the telecom ministry by different bidders. However, what is more important to note is that companies such as Reliance, Essar, etc. were in such a position to bribe the ministry because they earned much more than what they offered in bribes. So, while bribes to ministers and top bureaucrats amounted to Rs 2,000 crore, the overall profit raked in by companies was a whopping Rs 1 lakh crore! Baba Ramdev not so long ago created a riotous situation by demanding all black money be returned to India. It was his concerted effort to shift the focus to Swiss Banks when the source of the undisclosed wealth (in terms of its generation) lay in India itself. As a result, what is conveniently concealed by the reificatory notion of corruption is the brutal process whereby capitalists exploit workers and displace poor peasants and adivasis so as to attain huge super-profits.

(11) To elucidate, many politicians, bureaucrats and businessmen are from wealthy (millionaire) families and undergo the same kind of high-quality education. Many are, in fact, alumni of the same elite institutions and are part of the same social circles.

(12) In India such policy-making committees emerged way back in the late 1930s. For example, the National Planning Committee, headed by Jawaharlal Nehru and consisting of businessmen and “experts” was formed in 1939 in the endeavour to devise a framework for future economic planning. Then in 1942 a six-member committee was formed under the initiative of Tata and Birla. This committee consisting of six most prominent industrialists in the country produced the Bombay Plan, which specified a blueprint for state expenditure. Policy-making committees have emerged as a bigger trend in contemporary times, as is evident from the following pool of recommending bodies: (i) the three-member Investment Commission (2004), which consisted of Ratan Tata (as Chairman), Deepak Parekh (prominent financier and director of many companies) and Ashok Ganguly; (ii) Economic Advisory Council to the Prime Minister in which the chairman enjoys a rank equivalent to a Cabinet Minister; (iii) National Knowledge Commission (2005) consisting of two prominent corporate leaders, Sam Pitroda and Ashok Ganguly.

(13) For example, shop-keepers/small-scale retailers do not often identify their interests in opposition to big capital whose commodities they sell. Instead, a conflict of interest and competition exists within shop-keepers themselves, since enhanced sales of one means loss of business for another. Similarly, the ‘new rich’ segment of the petty-bourgeoisie does not stand in opposition to big capital (unless unionised in work places, etc.). Instead, they stand in a competitive position vis-à-vis each other for access to limited resources like subsidised education.

(14) See The World Bank’s Partnership with Non-Governmental Organizations, World Bank, Washington DC, 1996. Also see, James Petras, “The Ford Foundation and the CIA: A Documented Case of Philanthropic Collaboration with the Secret Police”, http://www.rebelion.org/hemeroteca/petras/english/ford010102.htm.

(15) See “People’s Participation”, World Bank Discussion Papers No. 183, World Bank, Washington DC, 1992, & “Participatory Development and the World Bank”, World Bank Discussion Papers, Washington DC, 1992, pp.10.

(16) See Aurora, Shashikala, Gayathri, et al, “New Economic Policy, Voluntary Organization and Rural Poor”, Economic and Political Weekly, April 2, 1994.

(17) See Jagdish Bhagwati, “The Design of Indian Development”, & Deepak Lal, “Economic Reforms and Poverty Alleviation” in I.J. Ahluwalia & I.M.D. Little (ed.) India’s Economic Reforms and Development: Essays for Manmohan Singh, OUP: Delhi, 1998.

(18) The following are examples of awards given to prominent individuals in Team Anna: (i) the Ramon Magsaysay Award (funded by the Ford Foundation which is supported by corporate houses like Ford Co., etc.) to RTI “activist” Arvind Kejriwal, (ii) the Ramon Magsaysay Award to “social worker” Kiran Bedi, and (iii) the Jit Gill Prize (funded by the World Bank) to the then relatively obscure local activist, Anna Hazare.

(19) NREGA is based on the theoretical postulation that in underdeveloped economies, capital formation can be “effectively” pursued by drawing on the semi/unemployed rural population. This rural unemployed force is employed in construction work, etc., and is paid wages that merely sustain the bare minimum needs. Thus, the rural unemployed force becomes a cheap source of surplus value. Since schemes such as NREGA are introduced on a large scale, i.e. on a national scale, they help generate considerable capital formation. This development benefits capitalists significantly. For example, roads built under the NREGA scheme enhance the distribution networks of private companies in interior regions of the country. In actual terms, NREGA is a by-product of the Vakil-Brahmanand model of development—a model that features prominently in developmental plans of the current Prime Minister, Manmohan Singh. This model of development stems from earlier theoretical postulations of “liberal” economists like Nurkse and Lewis. See, Ragnar Nurkse, Problems of Capital Formation in Underdeveloped Countries, Oxford: Blackwell, 1953, and Arthur Lewis, “Economic Development with Unlimited Supplies of Labour”, Manchester School, Vol. 2, May, pp. 129-91. Here it is also worth noting that the RTI Act is restricted to public bodies, as a result of which the inner functioning of private bodies (including NGOs) continues to be concealed from the public eye.

(20) One of the reasons for consistent participation of youth in the student elections held in Delhi lies in the fact that the city houses many “centres of excellence”/central government-run educational institutes. Because of this educational status of the capital city, all mainstream parties very consciously root their politics among the university youth. This year, the middle-class university youth voted in an NSUI candidate (the student wing of the Congress) for the post of president, and candidates from ABVP (the student wing of the BJP) to the remaining posts. Ironically, the NSUI made a comeback this year by winning the post of president. If we look at the voter turnout for this year’s election, it more or less matched last year’s turnout (33% for 2011 and 35% 2010), as well as the overall voter turnout of the past three years.

(21) On August 28, 2011, Anna concluded his fast with a compromise in hand, gaining nothing substantial for the masses. Subhash Kashyap (constitutional expert) and former Lok Sabha Secretary-General in an interview to Frontline (September 23, 2011, pp. 18) magazine opined that the government has conceded nothing, and the biggest achievement of the negotiations is that Anna has broken his fast!

(22) See, Arvind Kejriwal’s interview in Frontline, September 23, 2011. In this interview he continued to emphasise that corruption was not a problem created by corporate houses. He in fact argued that corporate houses were the victims of corruption.

(23) Having said this, what should the organised Left do at conjunctures when movements under bourgeois hegemony, emerge? The answer lies in a form of alliance building in which different sections of workers scattered across different social spaces, are united. The Left would gain most by first strengthening existing movements that embrace expansive hegemony of the working class, and then, positioning these movements in confrontation with bourgeois movements. If such working class movements are lacking (as is the case presently), the Left needs to concentrate on building them. If a strong working-class movement existed at the time of Team Anna’s campaign, it would have raised slogans against capitalist exploitation of various classes. In the process it would have gradually exposed the ‘India Against Corruption’ campaign for its bourgeois content and form, and would have won over workers and a large section of the middle class that were influenced by Anna. Here the fighting force of the movement would have been the working class, and it is the hegemony of the working class that would have been asserted. As a result, rather than an anti-corruption campaign that sought to reinforce the prevailing form of politics (in terms of cleaning up the parliamentary system as opposed to replacing it), a new form of politics would have been the agenda — destroy capitalism and the parliamentary system.

Working Conditions Maruti Suzuki English subtitles