Author: Kevin Doyle
From the 1850s onwards, against a background of great new wealth in society and a working class that was more independent and resourceful, the 'problem of democracy' became urgent for the rich and powerful. In general wealth was rising throughout society, but so was the greed of those who owned the new factories, mines and plantations. The key question was: what was to be done about the general demand for democracy, and about the incessant clamour for political rights which, during the revolutions of 1848, had almost got completely out of hand?
Maintaining their privilege and wealth while generally conceding a semblance of democracy was the principal aim of the 'rich and privileged' during the second half of the 19th century. Parliament is a means of diffusing democracy, of channelling real struggles into a safe dead-end. Time and time again it has become a graveyard for the workers' movement.
Download and print out Parliament or democracy
________________________________________
The Problem of Democracy
________________________________________
The French Revolution of 1789 put an end to the idea that some people were born to rule. In only a short number of years one of the oldest and most powerful monarchies in Europe was swept away. In its place came the idea of legal equality and individual rights as set out in the 'Declaration of the Rights of Man and the Citizen.'
The basis of these new rights, established on foot of a great social upheaval, was the real hallmark of the French Revolution since it was accepted, from that point on, that laws and how they were made were the expression of the 'general will'. As such these laws could be made and unmade as that 'general will' was discerned. This was the real break with the past.
At the time of the French Revolution the idea of the 'general will' was still new in politics. Even so the implications for the future were not difficult to make out. Sixty years earlier, in England, during the Civil War the very same issues had come to the fore. If the monarchy was to be dispensed with, what type of society should replace it? What exactly constituted the 'general will'? And, as importantly, in whose service was its rule to be applied?
During the Putney Debates, the anti-Royalist forces who had fought to depose Charles II argued over these very issues. The principal leaders of the anti-Royalist movement, men such as Oliver Cromwell and others, were definite that the King's arbitrary rule should end. But, equally, they were clear that the running of society could not be left to just anyone. The King's right of power had rested on his birthright. Now that this was gone, a new form of distinction was needed, they argued, lest the rule of society fall into the hands of the common people. That new distinction was to be property.
As Cromwell's general, Henry Ireton, put it:
'I think that no person hath a right to an interest or share in disposing
of the affairs of the Kingdom... that have not a permanent fixed interest in
the Kingdom.' 1
But this view was not shared by others who had also fought the King. The
Civil War had thrown up many groupings. Some, such as the Levellers, were
conscious of the social conditions of the day. Others still, the Diggers, had
seized un-worked land and declared it their own by virtue of the plants they
had put on it and the labour they had expended. Such groupings were profoundly
stirred by the struggle against the autocrat Charles II. They were
anti-authoritarian and viewed matters differently from the likes of Cromwell.
The well-known Leveller, Thomas Rainsborough, countered Ireton with:
'I think that the poorest ... in England hath a life to live as the
greatest...and therefore ... every man that is to live under a government ought
first by his own consent to put himself under that government.' 2
But this idea that everyone, irrespective of individual wealth, was
entitled to a say in the running of society had dangerous implications.
Implications that directly threatened the interests of the 'men of property'
and the rich. Ireton again:
'By the same right of natureÉ by which you say a man hath an equal with
another of the choosing of him that govern him, by the same right of nature he
hath the same right in any goods he sees.' 3
The central matter being 'goods'. English society in the era of the Civil
War was a much poorer society than it is today but, relative to the population
of the time, there was still an abundance of wealth. That wealth was not shared
equally. There was a massive disparity in who owned what, a major source of
grievance as the Digger, Winstanley, noted:
'And this is the bondage that the poor complain of, that they are kept poor
by their brethren in a land where there is so much plenty for everyone.' 4
So, in the English Civil War, the abolition of the rule of the King had
raised almost immediately a more intractable problem. If full equality was
conceded wouldn't the privilege of the rich be brought to an end? After all, it
was Aristotle, thousands of years earlier, who had pointed out the most glaring
fact: 'The rich are few and the poor are many.' In any straight forward count
(or referendum) the interests of the rich would be swamped alongside the
priorities of the more numerous poor. So was born the 'problem of democracy'.
The immediate solution employed by the rich during the English Civil War
was, of course, force of arms. This was the fate suffered by democrats such as
the Diggers and the Levellers, both of which were dispersed using military
means. It was 'propertied' men such as Cromwell and Ireton who benefited most.
They ruled through a new Parliament, and had greatly increased power, while the
poor suffered on.
As an observer noted5 in his journey across England in 1660:
'The island ... is ... governed by the influence of the sort of people that
live plentifully and at ease upon their rents extracted from the toil of their
tenants and servants ... each of whom within the bounds of his own estate acts
the prince; he is purely absolute, his servants and labourers are in the nature
of his vassals; his tenants indeed are free, but in the nature of
subjects.' 5
Like the English Civil War, the French Revolution would have a limited
effect on how society was organized in the short term. Though the French
monarchy was fatally weakened and the 'rule of law' was established, the real
beneficiaries were the emerging bourgeoisie. These, the merchants and bankers
of France, had been one of the motive forces in the fight against the monarchy.
They had provided the ideas and reasoning for the Revolution. For too long they
had suffered unjust taxes, levied on them by a corrupt King. In the aftermath
of the French Revolution, with their hands on the reins of power, they remade
the laws in their own interest, to benefit trade and those who traded.
But the French Revolution was also crucially different - in a way that
would have important overall consequences. Firstly, it 'was alone of all
revolutions which preceded and followed it a mass social revolution'.6 The masses themselves had been one of the prime forces in its
success. At crucial periods in the struggle for power they had, by their very
presence, pushed events forward. This had struck a chord with the downtrodden
everywhere, but it also taught a crucial lesson: where reform from above proved
fruitless, revolution from below could work. In part, as a reflection of this,
political consciousness rose across Europe.
The French Revolution was particularly important for a second reason. It
occurred as the very early stages of the industrial revolution were getting
underway. Overall, wealth in society was increasing. In France and England it
is estimated that society's wealth doubled in the 18th century. But, in the
next fifty years, as machinery and labour were harnessed, the rate of increase
in wealth accelerated rapidly.
Beginning first in England, where conditions were most favorable, industrialization
spread relatively quickly to the continent of Europe. By the 1840s 'the actual
industrial transformation of the non-English speaking world was still modest
... a little more than one hundred miles of railway line in the whole of Spain,
Portugal, Scandinavia, Switzerland and the entire Balkan Peninsula...'7 But, even so, 'the actual rise in production and exports were
gigantic'. 8
What this meant for the 'rich and privileged' was a vast increase in their
wealth. How vast is often not appreciated. The historian, Eric Hobsbawm, gives
one indication with his explanation for the dramatic rise in railway
construction that occurred at this time in Britain. In just twenty years railway
construction there jumped from just a few dozen miles of line (in the 1820s) to
4,500 miles of line by 1840, to 23,550 miles by 1850. Where, he asks, did the
money come from, for such endeavours? His answer is instructive: 'The
fundamental fact about Britain in the first few generations of the Industrial
Revolution was that the comfortable and rich classes accumulated income so fast
and in such quantities as to exceed all available possibilities of spending and
investment'.9 Hence, the 'speculative frenzies' concentrating on railway stock
investments which hit England in 1835-7 and again in 1844-7, known with
hindsight as 'railway mania'.
Yet, this enviable predicament contrasted sharply with the lot of the
multitude whose role it was to labour for such enterprises. For them '...the
transition to the new economy created misery and discontent...' 10 Those without property - those who, in effect, became known as the
proletariat - didn't immediately take to the new order. 'Labour had to learn to
work in a manner suited to industry... It also had to learn to be responsive to
monetary incentive...' 11 The early generations of workers didn't find this easy, nor did they
like it. There was considerable resistance.
The solution, notes Hobsbawm, 'was found in a draconian labour discipline,
but above all in a practice where possible of paying labour so little that it
would have to work steadily all through the week in order to make a minimum
income...' 12 that it could survive on. This often required the whole family to
work. Between 1834 and 1839, in the English cotton mills, of all workers, 'one
quarter were adult men, one half women and girls and the balance boys below the
age of eighteen.'13 By the 1840s, in Western Europe, 'the characteristic social problems
of industrialization ... the horrors of breakneck urbanization ... were
commonplace and of serious dimensions'.14
Small wonder then that Europe was convulsed by revolution in 1848. Whilst
liberals in Italy, France, Hungary and Germany pressed forward against the
continuing power of royalty in their own countries, independent demands of a
serious nature emerged from the 'workers in Paris and other European cities'.
Raising the cry for 'social revolution, for the Red republic' their 'demands
challenged both property and the laws of the market'. 15
A Suitable Solution
From the 1850s onwards, against a background of
great new wealth in society and a working class that was more independent and
resourceful, the 'problem of democracy' became urgent. In general, wealth was
rising throughout society, but so was the greed of those who owned the new
factories, mines and plantations. The key question was: what was to be done
about the general demand for democracy, and about the incessant clamour for
political rights which, during the revolutions of 1848, had almost got
completely out of hand?
This matter weighed heavily on the minds of the 'rich and privileged'
during this era. Two main positions emerged. On the one hand, there were people
such as Thomas Babington Macaulay who believed that 'the higher and middling
orders are the natural representatives of the human race'.16 He was concerned about the issue of enfranchising the poor and
property-less. This issue had already come to the fore in Britain with the rise
of the Chartist movement in the 1830s. One of the leading Chartists, Cobett,
had made the important point that the people wanted the vote 'that it might do
some good, that it might better our situation... and not for the gratification
of any abstract ... whim'.17 Macaulay attacked the idea of universal suffrage in this context. He
argued it would lead 'to the rich being 'pillaged' ... which in turn would lead
to the destruction of civilization and a reversion to barbarism.'18
Others were not so obtuse. J.S. Mill, the well known 19th century liberal
philosopher, was among these. He was well aware that times had changed. He
noted that the age had passed 'when the uninstructed have faith in the
instructed'19 with the result that 'the multitude are without a guide and society
is exposed to all the errors and dangers'. 20 One of these dangers was social revolution. Mill was well aware that
something had to be done, but also that the clock could not go backwards.
Not that he was under any illusions: 'We dreaded the ignorance and
especially the selfishness and brutality of the mass.'21 The lower orders were, in his eyes, 'the mass of brutish ignorance',
'the common herd' or 'the uncultivated herd'.22 In contrast, he saw himself and his ilk as 'an endowed class, for the
cultivation of learning, and for diffusing its results among the community'.23The role of such a class was clear, he said: 'No government by a democracy
... could rise above a mediocrity except ... by the council and influence of a
more highly instructed one or few.'24The alternative, a meaningful say for the 'common herd', was inconceivable:
'It is not useful, but hurtful, that the constitution of the country should
declare ignorance to be entitled to as much political power as knowledge.'25 A suitable solution then, in Mill's view, was this: 'the intellectual
classes [should] lead the government, and the government should lead the stupid
classes.'26
What would, in time, become the modus operandi of parliamentary democracy
everywhere was not in the 1850s immediately practicable. The natural
disadvantage suffered by the 'middling and higher orders' alongside the
'brutish multitude' when it came to the numbers game ('the rich are few and the
poor are many') was only part of the problem. More pressing was the different
expectations that both sides, rich and poor, brought to the particular subject
of suffrage and its extension.
Mill, once again, was clear in this regard. Democracy was 'not that the
people govern themselves, but that they have the security for good government'.
Such 'good government' already existed in his eyes: this was parliament.
Hobsbawm notes the state of play in Europe in the middle of the 19th century:
The 'parliamentary tradition had been established in virtually all European
countries, with the exception of Russia. In most cases, however, the power of
the traditional elite remained secure if not unchallenged, for parliaments had
only nominal power against the executive, and hence were at best weak
influences on state policy.' 27
These bald facts about parliament and its irrelevance were widely known at
the time. Those who attended the various parliaments of Europe were, for the
most part, the appointees of the ruling elites throughout Europe - the various
sons of the landed classes and of businessmen, lawyers and the other
professions. This was hardly the democracy that the 'stupid classes' had in
mind. On the contrary, the perception was widespread that 'rule by the people'
must mean just that - hence the dangerous connotations that the word democracy
had throughout this period of history.
Mill and others were very much aware of this difference of 'understanding'
between the rich and the poor. It was a major problem. There was not, in a
sense, a 'tradition of governance' or, as it was also put, 'common ground
between the rulers and the ruled' in which both sides knew their place and lot.
Naturally, until such traditions were established, the vote would have to be
withheld or manipulated into ineffectiveness.
The 'qualified vote' was the means by which this was done. Though not
before another idea - the 'weighted vote' - had been toyed with. This idea,
also developed by Mill, was nothing if not novel:
'If every ordinary unskilled labourer had one vote, a skilled labourer
ought to have two. A foreman... whose occupation requires something more of
general culture, and some moral as well as intellectual qualities should
perhaps have three. A farmer, manufacturer, or trader... should have three or
four. A member of any profession, requiring... systematic mental culture...
ought to have five or six. A graduate of any university at least as
many.' 28
In this way the numerical disadvantage of the rich could be mitigated until
such time as the poor had accepted their lot.
But, it was not to be. The qualified vote was far more practical. Using any
arbitrary difference - educational level, possession of property, religion,
race, skin color, sex, age - access to the vote was curtailed. Until such time
as people showed appropriate 'maturity'. Gladstone, the British Prime-minister,
spelled out what 'maturity' entailed during a debate in 1864 on whether the
franchise should be extended (from 4% to 8% of the population!) The voter,
Gladstone said, should be a person with 'self-command, self control, respect
for order, patience under suffering, confidence in the law and regard for
superiors.' 29
Britain: ' Granting the Vote'
1. The emergence of a compliant parliamentary socialist movement.
2. The growth and influence of the mass media which from early days was attendant to the interests and agenda of the 'rich and privileged'.
The Role of the State
________________________________________
Maintaining their privilege and wealth while generally conceding a semblance of democracy was the principal aim of the 'rich and privileged' during the second half of the 19th century. But patience with this was thin on the ground, especially amongst the 'multitude' who were, as always, 'truculent and overly concerned with who got what'. This impatience broke out in full force in France, once again, with the famous events of the Paris Commune (1871), which, even by today's standard, remain a benchmark in the achievement of democratic practice
The Commune, though short-lived, broke with the past in a number of obvious
and direct ways that met with the popular mood of revolution. 'Those elected to
represent the people were to act as delegates, not as parliamentary members ...
Those elected were subject to recall by the people, and it was the duty of
those elected to report back and remain in constant contact with the sources of
popular sovereignty.' 30 This was like nothing else that existed in the world at that time.
'The police was at once stripped of its political attributes ... So were the
officials of all other branches of the Administration. From the members of the
Commune down, the public service had to be done at workman's wages.'31
This was a system of administration that led the Commune to institute or
attempt to institute reforms of a very radical nature - worker co-operatives
were formed, plans were drawn up for workers' control of industry, special
attention was paid to the provision of basic education for all, to improve the
position of women and to provide crèche facilities for workers (near their
place of work).32 For the time it was an enormous achievement.
But if the Commune highlighted anything - generally speaking as an example
of democracy it was vilified by the 'rich and privileged' - it was that the
real threat in society to the continuance of privilege no longer emanated from
the 'general masses' but rather from that more specific quantity, the
working-class. How to deal with this entity was further complicated by the
still small but growing influence of anarchist and socialist ideas in its
ranks. An influence that was clearly evident in the events of the Commune.
Repression, the immediate solution to the Commune (approximately 25,000
Parisians were slaughtered 33), would not do in the longer term, especially given, even in this period,
the evident capacity of workers to articulate and defend their own interests.
Indeed, this was perceived to be the real danger of the emerging working-class
- its independence and autonomy which set it apart from all other producing
classes in society heretofore, most notably the peasantry.
For the 'rich and privileged' then, containing this new found independence
of workers and, if possible, dispersing it would be crucial aims in the general
struggle against democracy. Unless this was done a society more technologically
based than ever before would, in time, become dangerously vulnerable to its
most important of constituents - its workers. Even in the late 19th century,
the direction of economic development was pointing to this worst of scenarios,
where, irrespective of the interests of the rich, workers might be powerful
enough to implement democracy anyway.
What was confirming a still small but growing number of workers in such
dangerous 'delusions' was the very process of industrial struggle itself which
became an important feature as the 19th century continued on into the 20th. In
confronting the owners of industry, workers had, right from the beginning, very
little to rely upon. Against the brute force and superior material resources of
the wealthy, workers had only organization and solidarity to hold them together
- this they used to full effect.
By forming themselves into unions and syndicates (organizations that were
built systematically throughout this period) workers were able to use their
industrial power to full effect. But there was, most importantly, an added
bonus.
Unions and syndicates were in their own right 'schools of democracy' and
political learning. Not only did workers became politicized by getting
involved, but also by being part of a union, workers were given valuable
lessons in democratic administration. As if this was not bad enough, it was
through such involvement that workers were - when successful - confirmed in
that most dangerous of ideas: that by their own efforts and organization they could
alleviate their exploitation. An idea which, if left unchecked, could be the
basis for far more substantial undertakings.
Industrial struggle then was a crucial means by which a revolutionary
consciousness was developing among the working-class. The practical political
experience being gained there was also influencing the wider struggle for
democratic reform. In a similar way, the wider struggle for democracy was also
influencing the demands in the workplace.
A feature that was clearly evident in
the 'proposal' put forward by coal workers in the Rhondda Valley of Wales in
1912:
'Our only concern is to see to it, that those who create the value receive
it ... Today the shareholders own and rule the coal fields. They own and rule
them mainly through paid officials. The men of the mines are surely as
competent to elect these, as shareholders who may never have seen a colliery.
To have a vote in determining who shall be your fireman, manager, inspector,
etc. is to have a vote in determining the conditions which rule your working
life. On that vote will depend in a large measure your safety of life and limb,
of your freedom from repression by petty bosses, and would give you an
intelligent interest in and control over your conditions of work.'34
Such ideas were indeed dangerous. The notion that democracy should be a
part of work and the workplace as much as it should be a part of any other
aspect of life directly challenged the rule of the boss. Particularly so when
married to notions of industrial strength and union solidarity which were
developing at this time. In this context it was crucial for the 'rich and
privileged' to divert the political aspirations of workers away from the industrial
arena and towards some more benign institution. Parliament was custom built for
this job.
Alone on the left, anarchists signalled the danger which the lure of the
Parliament would in time become. One the one hand there was the crucial
question: what could Parliament actually achieve or change given that it had
only 'nominal powers'? What would be the point in gaining control of it, if
this control could effect little real change?
Though these questions were very important, they were accompanied by a more
general debate about the nature of democracy and the role of the State. The
real division of the day was between two views. Between that which saw 'the
State' as a beneficial agent in society and that (held by anarchists and some
marxists) which saw it, on the contrary, as an impediment to social and
economic progress of any substantial kind.
The burgeoning social reform movement of the era, which in time would be
dominated by the various Labour and Socialist parties of the world, was the
principal advocate of the idea that 'the State' could be used to benefit
workers and the disenfranchised generally. Lassalle, the founding father of the
German Social Democratic Party (GSDP), held that social improvement of any
substantial kind could only come about from State intervention. This was the
'great prize' to be had if workers and their representatives played the game of
Parliament. Towards this end, Lassalle urged the German workers 'to look
[neither] to the left nor to the right and to be deaf to everything except
universal franchise and the secret ballot'.35
Lassalle was no exception in holding this view. In Britain, the Fabians, a
formative force in the Labour Party, had a similar outlook, believing that 'the
State was fundamentally neutral ... It could be used to hinder progress or ...
to further the evolution of humanity towards its collectivist goals. The
problem was merely which class was in control of its function...'36 As they saw it, 'the state machine of army, police and law courts
'will continue to be used against the people by [the rich] classes until it is
used by the people against the [the rich] classes...' 37
The anarchist view, however, was quite different, and, as time would tell,
more realistic. As the anarchists pointed out, 'the State', in essence, was a
chain of command. Democratic practices animated none of its many segments and
sections. The Parliament, moreover, was but a minor part of any Government. And
the Government was but a minor part of a much wider body that also included the
army, the police and judiciary. All of which were authoritarian in terms of
structure and ethos. How could such bodies be used to benefit society at large?
The argument put by Lassalle and others was that if a more 'enlightened' or
'compassionate' leadership took the helm, more beneficial ends could be
achieved. But the anarchist view rejected this. Not because they doubted either
the 'compassion' or 'enlightenment' of Lassalle, though it was questionable,
but because, as they argued, authoritarian institutions could not be used to
bring about democratic objectives (i.e. policies that would lead to wealth
distribution, the key issue, could not be brought about by a minority, no
matter how well intentioned. Rather the active and democratic involvement of
all of society was required to achieve such an end.)
For anarchists then, the views and beliefs of reformers were not decisive.
What would determine the outcome was the political structures used to bring
about change. For the anarchists 'the State' was not neutral. It was
authoritarian and undemocratic as befitted its purpose. Lassalle, as the
anarchists saw it, would not change the direction of Government or 'the State'
if he was elected. Rather it would change him. He would become authoritarian
and self-serving as befitted the institution he was being empowered to run.
Time would tell who was right.
________________________________________
Meanwhile, the real problem remained. The crucial issue for the 'rich and privileged' was how to concede a semblance of democracy while keeping the mass of people as far removed from the levers of power as was practically possible. In this way the business of making money could be got on with, while the demands for a meaningful democracy were diverted into a cul de sac.
Parliament, as stated above, was the method of choice. It had nominal
powers and concerned itself with the mundane. The real issues in society - the
accumulation of wealth by a few, the massive exploitation of labour, the
draconian rule of the boss in the workplace - hardly graced its doorstep.
Therein lay its beauty. But therein also lay its weakness. The gap between the
institutions of power - the State and Government - and the huge numbers of
people living in poverty was massive in the last half of the 19th century and
early 20th. The prestige of parliament was low. As an institution it was viewed
with suspicion, and as a plaything for the rich. How, it was asked, could such
an institution bring about fundamental reform? Or, for that matter, a major
redistribution of wealth?
Throughout the period this was an important limitation - in most countries.
In order to channel the broader demands for democracy and political rights in a
safer direction, it was necessary in the first place to build up the perception
that 'Parliament' was democracy in action.
Similarly, while suffrage was gradually conceded, it was done so in a
reluctant and strategic way. Extensions of voting rights were met with
expressions of 'grave concern for the future of society'. In turn, the 'stupid
classes', women or black people - anyone whose turn it was - were chastised
with: Were they capable of understanding political issues? Could they be
objective? Would it mean the end of society as it was then known?
These questions were debated intensely during the era of reform (1850-1950)
that culminated in the establishment of the main modern parliamentary
democracies. But, from the very beginning, as a general process reform
proceeded furthest and with greatest speed in the countries of the so-called
'New World'.
These states - the USA, Canada, New Zealand and Australia -
extended the popular franchise quickly, in part because of their special
circumstances. Being countries that were built up on the theft of land (from
their indigenous peoples) they commanded greater loyalty from their (usually)
white citizenry than was possible in Europe itself. A loyalty that was, in
effect, a further safeguard to the economic interests of the 'rich and
privileged'.
The general process of extending suffrage to 'the masses' was perceived to
be dangerous, and so it was. For this very reason it could not have proceeded
successfully without substantial participation from below. This participation
was provided by the emerging 'parliamentary socialist' movement which, from
early days, had a view of social change and reform not radically different from
that which was tolerable to the 'rich and privileged'.
There were two important and essential components to this. Firstly, as was
mentioned above, the 'parliamentary socialists' saw the State and its role as
all important. Leaving aside the objections of the anarchists and some
marxists, they viewed 'the State' with a degree of respect that bordered on
awe. In many respects the parliamentary socialists were more attached to the
idea of 'the State' than the very capitalists who had relied upon it, time and
time again, as a means of repression. They saw control of 'the State' and its
chain of command as all important and a desirable goal in its own right.
Secondly, however, there was the question of the 'multitude' and what role
they should have in any future society. Were they to be participants, citizens
who were active in bringing about change or were they to be simply people who
were called upon to vote every few years - with little other input? Which was
it to be: active and participatory or passive and in the background? Here the
views of the 'rich and privileged' and the parliamentary socialists also
coincided.
At one level there was disdain. Beatrice Webb, a member of the Fabians and
a founder member of the British Labour Party, 'was horrified at the immorality
and mental dullness of the lower orders. At the turn of the century she noted,
"To us, public affairs seem gloomy; the middle classes are materialistic,
and the working classes stupid, and in large sections sottish, with no interest
except in racing odds." 38
At another level however there was doubt about the political capacity of
the working-class. The Fabians in general were influential in the founding of
the British Labour Party, but they could not imagine workers originating
political ideas of their own. 'The utmost function that can be allotted to a
mass meeting [of workers] in a democracy is the ratification or rejection of a
policy already prepared for it.' 39 A view that was also held by Eduard Bernstein 40 , a key figure in the GSPD, and also, interestingly, by the Russian
revolutionary, Lenin, who had noted that workers were only capable of 'trade
union consciousness'.41
Nevertheless, the growth of the 'parliamentary socialist' movement in the
latter part of the 19th century and the beginning of the 20th was meteoric.
Across Europe, in South America and in Australia socialist parties were formed
with the expressed aim of taking power.
Nowhere was the growth more impressive than in Germany. The GSPD 'increased
its vote from 125,000 in 1871 to 1.4 million in 1890 (20 per cent of the total
vote) and to 4.2 million in 1912 (35 per cent of the total vote). Similar
dramatic increases in the socialist vote occurred elsewhere ... Social
Democrats obtained 37 percent of the vote in Finland in 1907, 40 per cent in
Austria in 1919, 30 per cent in Belgium in 1925 and 46 per cent in Denmark by
1935.' 42 In 1910 the first elected socialist government in the world came to
power in Australia.
These results were indeed dramatic, an indication no doubt of the desire in
this period for real and substantial change, or wealth distribution. It seemed
as if great things were in the offing, a view enthusiastically voiced by
Frederick Engels in 1895. Engels, co-author with Marx of the 'Communist
Manifesto', could only marvel at the growth of the German SPD. He seemed to
believe that all things would fall before the emerging giant of 'parliamentary
socialism' :
Its growth proceeds as spontaneously , as steadily, as irrepressibly, and
at times as tranquilly as a natural process. All Government intervention has
proved powerless against it ...If it continues in this fashion, by the end of
the century we shall ...grow into the decisive power in the land, before which
all powers will have to bow, whether they like it or not.'43
Such a message was also carried faithfully to the working-class electorate
by the thousands of party activists who joined the various socialist parties
during this era, often to the neglect of the trade union movement they left
behind. Keir Hardie, a formative figure in the Labour Party in Britain, was an
early hero in this mould. Hardie himself, in the personal sense, was no
stranger to oppression. Born illegitimate to a farm servant from Lanarkshire in
Scotland, he criss-crossed England, Scotland and Wales building support for the
parliamentary road to change. He was, in every respect, an eloquent speaker
with, it seemed, a radical vision. He described the type of socialism he was
fighting for as follows:
'...the ugliness and squalor which now meets you at every turn in some of
the most beautiful valleys in the world would disappear, the rivers would run
pure and clear as they did of yore ... and in the winter the log would glow on
the fire the while that the youths and the maidens made glad the heart with
mirth and song, and there would be beauty and joy everywhere.'44
In his eyes the important thing was to participate in the electoral
process. Parliament was a good institution, with real power and the potential
to satisfy the democratic wishes of the people. The problem, as he saw it, was
that rich people kept getting elected to its hallowed halls. If this could be
changed, if people from a working-class background, who knew what it was like
to be poor were elected, then things could be changed. As went the ditty, popularized
among Australian workers at the beginning of the 20th century to win support
for the Australian Labour Party (ALP)45:
'Then keep your heads I say my boys; your comrades in the town.
Will help you get to win the vote and put your tyrant down.
The ballot is the thing, my boys, the ballot is the thing...'
The ballot, in other words, became everything. 'Until the First World War,
Social Democratic Parties worked mainly to obtain democratic reforms such as
the extension of the suffrage, first to males, then to women, as well as
seeking the secret ballot, equal constituencies and "one man, one
vote".'46 Particularly in the northern European countries this prioritizing
affected the whole social struggle. Labour and socialist parties not only set
the agenda but also they tended to foist this agenda, with greater and lesser
degrees of success, on the wider trade union movement.
Thus the real threat posed by industrial based struggles was at first
moderated, then later dispersed. In many countries workers played a militant
part in winning an extension of the franchise. In Belgium, Austria and Finland
among others, general strikes ushered in more extensive voting rights. But, at
the end of the day, the workers' role was secondary. Once representation in
Parliament was achieved the job of building socialism fell into the 'capable'
hands of the parliamentary socialists. A convenient outcome as it turned out.
For the 'parliamentary socialists' the great prize had always been to win
control of the State. Through enlightened leadership, they argued, the State
could be used for the benefit of society at large. What happened in reality?
From the earliest days divisions occurred. The demands of electoralism were
all important and, as early as 1890, Bernstein in Germany signalled the
importance of this issue. Declaring that democracy was 'the high-school of
compromise' he argued successfully in the German SDP for a policy of moderation
and alliance with forces that did not share in the desire for fundamental
wealth distribution. The eventual aim was still socialism, he argued, but for
the present the immediate goals must take precedence:
"For me the achievement of the most immediate demands is the main
thing, not only because they are of great propagandist value and serve to
enlist the masses, but also because, in my opinion, this gradual process, this
gradual socialization, is the method strongly indicated for a progressive
transition." 47
A viewpoint that culminated in Bernstein's now classic re-formulation of
his priorities and those of the GSPD, when he stated: 'the movement means
everything... what was usually called the final aim of socialism ... nothing'.48
On the other side of the world matters were not much different though they
were a mite more successful. The ALP had been formed after a series of
industrial defeats by Australian workers in the last decade of the 19th
century. From this bitter legacy 'there emerged a determination to right the
wrongs through committed parliamentary action.'49 The ALP achieved success early on, particularly at the regional state
level. This 'early progress of Australian Labor in politics attracted the
interests of the rest of the world...' 50 But, at home, doubts were already setting in.
During its first
periods in power, at a regional level, there was disappointment all around:
'Labor people commonly criticized their MPs for not being icy enough. They
saw Parliament as a comfortable club which seduced Labor members with
facilities way beyond the reach of the a typical toiler - higher wages,
comfortable leather chairs, billiard tables, dining rooms, well-stocked
library, free rail travel and invitations to lavish functions. Close contact
with Labor's adversaries could be disarming too. After lashing union bashers on
the hustings it was different matter altogether to confront them in relaxing
surroundings and find they are not bad blokes to share a drink with or a game
of cards with. Many Labor men "were obliged to adjust and often did so
without being aware of the process".' 51
And indeed, in power, Labor were moderate.
The ALP formed its first federal
Australian government in 1910. The success 'was saluted as the culmination of
twenty years of arduous work'.51True to form the ALP 'enacted far more legislation than any previous
national administration'. But the overall program of legislation did not tackle
wealth or its distribution. Far from it. A policy of State arbitration of wages
and conditions already begun under the previous non-Labor Government was
extended. As was a tax imposed on large ranchers who didn't improve land under
their control. Finally, 'a popular measure ... the baby bonus, an allowance of
five pounds payable at the birth of each white Australian child.' 52 (As perhaps might be expected from a party whose members regularly
'said grace before meals and toasted the monarchy'. 53 )
Worse was to come. The Labour Party in Britain came to power, unexpectedly,
when it won 191 seats in the House of Commons in the general election of
December 1923. Unlike its Australian counterpart it had, previous to this,
adopted some definite policies on wealth redistribution. As Keith Laybourn
notes in his book, The Rise of Labour, 'the party of hope and aspiration had
come to office.' 54 It was to be a bitter lesson for the workers of Britain.
Philip Snowden, the first Labour Chancellor of the Exchequer, introduced a
budget he claimed was a 'vindication against no class and no interest'. 55 In fact, at the time, it was said to have had 'devastating
consequences for working-class living standards'.56 In any case, Snowden's first budget 'received the general approval of
all sides of the House of Commons. It was praised by the Tories and Liberals
just as much as the Labour politicians.' 57 though a number of years later ('looking back on his life') Snowden
was able to justify his performance as follows:
'I have been active in political life for forty years, and my only object
has been to improve the lot of the toiling millions. That is still my aim and
my object, and, if I ask for some temporary suspension, some temporary
sacrifices, it is because that is necessary to make future progress possible.'58
A disastrous result and a cause for dismay in Labour ranks? Far from it. On
falling from power at the end of 1924, the first Labour Party prime-minister in
British history, Ramsay McDonald, felt moved enough to write to the King about
the Labour Party's performance, impressing on him as follows:
They [The Labour Party] have shown the country that they have the capacity
to govern in an equal degree with the other Parties in the House ... and,
considering their lack of experience, ... have acquitted themselves with credit
in the House of Commons. [...] The Labour Government has also shown the country
that patriotism is not the monopoly of any single class or party. .... They
have in fact demonstrated that they, no less than any other party, recognize
their duties and responsibilities, and have done much to dispel the fantastic
and extravagant belief which at one time found expression that they were
nothing but a band of irresponsible revolutionaries intent on wreckage and
destruction.59
Almost immediately, once some degree of success came their way, the trend
amongst the Labour and socialist parties of the world was away from the
working-class. In Australia, 'Party militants... were disillusioned by Labor's
orientation in office towards the whole community rather than the working-class
exclusively ...' 60 . This reflected electoral concerns, principally the desire to appear
moderate and accommodating to the wider electorate - even to those sections
whose interests conflicted directly with the interests of workers.
This resulted in even more moderate policies as time progressed. A point
that was noted by commentators: 'Although, during the inter-war period, social
democrats had won office in Austria, Belgium, Denmark, Finland, France,
Germany, Great Britain, Norway and Sweden, "with the exception of the
French armaments industry in 1936, not a single company was nationalized."
'61Instead of opting for policies of public ownership - previously advocated -
the socialist and Labour parties 'attempted to mitigate the worst aspects of
capitalism. They worked for social reforms in housing, education, wage rates,
unemployment protection and pensions,' 62 expounding, in the end, 'a welfarism that was often little different
from liberalism.' 63
A project that was eloquently captured by Ben Chiftly, Labor Prime
Minister in Australia from 1945-49, when he said:
'We have a great objective - the light on the hill - which we aim to reach
by working for the betterment of mankind not only here but anywhere we may give
a helping hand.' 64
On occasions when workers resisted, expecting - well they might - that
Labor would be more sympathetic to their cause, the results were a brutal
eye-opener. A case in point being the 1946 railway strike in Australia.
The ALP were in power just one year when this nation-wide dispute broke
out. The Labor minister in charge, Hanlon, himself a former strike leader in
the infamous Brisbane general strike of 1912, 'exceeded his own draconian
response to the 1946 metalworkers strike ... he proclaimed a state of emergency
under the Transport Act, authorized the arrest of strike leaders and the rank
and file picketers, and portrayed the dispute ... as a civil war.' The strike
continued, however. So, 'Hanlon rushed through parliament the Industrial Law
Amendment Act which gave the police even wider powers than the state of
emergency. They could now take action against anyone they considered might be
prolonging the strike; they could arrest without warrant, prohibit picketing,
enter union offices or meetings at any time, and use force when they considered
it necessary. On St. Patrick's Day a small orderly demonstration ... was
brutally attacked without warning by a large police contingent...' 65
Summing up his impressions after being arrested, one Australian Railways
Union member said of the Labor Party, 'If ever there was a weak collection of
salary chasing opportunist humbugs devoid of any semblance of working-class
principles, it was members of the Labor Party.' 66 He concluded that no anti-Labor government 'could have been more
vicious'.
The emergence of the parliamentary socialist movement, in the early part of
the 20th century, played a key role in breaking large sections of the
working-class away from their own independent efforts at bringing about change.
As a result, a form of democracy that was both tokenistic and insubstantial
became the order of the day. This was a major achievement for the 'rich and
privileged'.
The particular result, however, was not so much that social peace prevailed
but, rather, that other forms of democracy, more substantive in content and
less acceptable to the interests of the 'rich and privileged', were smothered
or, at the very least, curtailed. These forms - ideas of direct action and
direct democracy, democracy in the workplace etc. - posed a real challenge to
the social order in that they brought the disenfranchised into the struggle for
an improved society as participants rather than as observers - a difference
that mattered enormously in the long run.
There would be one significant exception to this overall trend. This was in
Spain. Here the anarchist movement was strong enough from the earliest days to
set a political course independent of 'parliamentary socialism'. At the core of
the anarchist strategy was direct democracy and direct action. Eschewing the
parliamentary road and all its trappings, anarchists advocated that instead the
workers should reclaim democracy at their place of power - at work and on the
street. This strategy was to be basis for the most important example of
democratic practice in the 20th century - the workers' collectives built during
the Spanish Revolution in 1936-37 (see Chap 9).
'Manufacturing Consent';
The arrival of the popular vote (universal
suffrage) marked an important transition in those societies that 'granted it'.
This was the change in the political order from one in which the mass of the
people were excluded from having any say, to one in which they were nominally included.
Finally, and despite the delay, it was being recognized that power in society
derived from the people. For the present, it was intended that this power would
be carefully managed - through parliament - and neutralized for the most part.
But, even so, it was an important concession. The arrival of the vote was a
recognition that all people, irrespective of title or wealth, were entitled to
an equal say in the running of society. This remains, for most people, an
appealing idea.
Secondly, the vote gave people leverage, albeit of a very weak kind - a
situation that was most obvious at election time. Tripping over themselves to
get elected to parliament and 'serve the people', politicians were liable to
promise anything. This raised expectations in the electorate and, as was
usually the case, indignation later. But, even so, on some occasions, real
concessions were achieved.
How was this new situation to be managed? On the one hand there were the
demands of the electorate; on the other hand there was the usual business of
government. These two interests did not necessarily go hand in hand.
Government, in its age old sense, was primarily concerned with one major
objective. This was overseeing the conditions in which business could prosper.
Enacting laws, ensuring that social peace prevailed and bringing the forces of
the State to bear on the unruly, were the traditional roles of government.
Over
time these important, primary tasks had not disappeared - far from it. As the
20th century progressed and the economy of the world grew, the instability of
an economic system that rested primarily on exploitation became more apparent.
Left to its own devices, capitalism undoubtedly created great wealth for the
'rich and privileged'. But, and this was its great misfortune, it also created
massive misery. Invariably, bust followed boom and depression followed growth.
A century that produced two world wars and the 'Great Depression', inevitably
brought forward those theories - Keynesism in particular - that argued for more
State intervention in society's affairs, and for greater management of the
economy.
To an extent this was a break with the past. But, less obvious at the time,
was the longer term shift in emphasis that occurred generally in the more
economically advanced countries. The State, previously the agent of the 'rich
and privileged', shifted from being a partisan player in the struggle between
the rich and the poor to the new and more benign role of mediator. This
required, in turn, a new type of political operation - where consensus between
the classes replaced confrontation and, under the guise of parliamentary
democracy, exploitation was carried on as before.
This new state of affairs, a reflection in part of greater suffrage and a
reflection in part of new priorities among the 'rich and privileged' emerged
across the world in a piecemeal fashion. In Europe, war and its after effects
(including revolution and economic depression) checked any immediate shift away
from the traditional method of repression. On the contrary, progress was slow
and it was only towards the end of the 1940s that the modern parliamentary
democracies emerged fully formed.
The USA, for reasons briefly mentioned above, was different. Already one of
the strongest economies by the end of WW1, it progressed unhindered towards the
modern model of parliamentary democracy from the beginning of the century.
Though it didn't concede full suffrage until 1961 - on foot of the Civil Rights
Movement - it already operated reasonably smoothly and without major hiccup
from the 1870s onwards.
It was here in conditions of economic stability and growth that the
influential American 'democrat', Walter Lippmann, examined the new priorities
and the new 'problems of democracy' from the perspective of the 'rich and privileged'.
Widely praised - for his progressive views, it would appear - Lippmann provided
the modern day reasoning for public 'thought control'. The masses, as he saw
it, were the problem. Technically, they had a role to play in the new
'democratic' order, but this 'out of necessity' was passive. As he saw it the
public 'does not reason, investigate, invent, persuade, bargain or
settle.' 67 The public's ability to understand the complex nature of society, the
important issues of the day or, for that matter, to evaluate the 'common
interest' was limited. The public, as he noted, was ill-informed:
'In the absence of institutions and education by which the environment is
so successfully reported that the realities of public opinion stand out very
sharply against self-centred opinion, the common interests very largely elude
public opinion entirely and can be managed only by a specialized class whose
personal interests reach beyond the locality...' 68
In Lippmann's eyes, then, two important roles formed the basis of the new
democratic order, that is modern parliamentary democracy. 'Firstly, there is
the role assigned to the "specialized class", the
"insiders", the "responsible men", who have access to
information and understanding. These "public men" are responsible for
"the formation of a sound public opinion ... They initiate, they
administer, they settle", and should be protected "from ignorant and
troublesome outsiders..."
'The second role is the "task of the public", which is much more
limited, Lippmann explains. It is not for the public to "pass judgment",
but merely to place "its forces at the disposal" of one or other of
the "responsible men" ... "the public acts only by aligning
itself as the partisan of someone in a position to act
executively".' 69
Lippmann describes this new order of things as a "revolution" in
"the practice of democracy". The public's opinion must be shaped and
formed so that the important decisions can be made in their name. He describes
this process, honestly, as 'the manufacture of consent' noting that 'it is a
self-conscious art and a regular organ of popular government.'
These priorities, articulated by Lippmann and others, were not new. In fact
they were strikingly similar to earlier views, for example J.S. Mill's advice
that: 'the intellectual classes [should] lead the government, and the
government should lead the stupid classes.' But other, newer developments had
compounded the problem from the perspective of the 'rich and privileged'.
During the inter-war years (1918-39) newspaper readership rose steadily, as did
cinema attendance and radio listener-ship. The first television networks were
on the air in the late '40s.
This brought change in its own right. For the first time in history, the
technology, wealth and means existed to implement democracy on a mass scale. Democracy,
in its proper sense, had always consisted of two aspects: The first of these
was having the power to take decisions - this was a right that was increasingly
being won as the twentieth century proceeded. But the second of these aspects
was, to a point, more difficult to achieve. This was providing people with the
information around which decisions could be based. This was especially
important with the emergence of national economies, and with the increasing
enlargement of society to include larger geographical areas. The mass media was
a potential solution to this need. Large sections of the population, for the
first time, had access to the media at low cost. In this way they could keep
informed and abreast of major political and social events of the day from
beginning through to end. Such was the potential of the emerging newspaper and
radio industry (and later on, television). But it was not to be used for these
democratic objectives.
The new era of parliamentary democracy was dominated by the idea of
'manufacturing consent'. Not surprisingly this process relied heavily on the
emergent mass media. The primary objective was not to 'investigate and inform'
but to 'report and shape'. By virtue of what was or wasn't reported the nature
and basis of political debate could be set (and altered). Certain viewpoints,
conducive to the interests of the 'rich and privileged', tended to dominate on
the airwaves and in political debate. Other viewpoints - 'less friendly' -
received less attention.
The general bias in the media has been best explained by Noam Chomsky and
Edward S. Herman 70 . In Manufacturing Consent they outlined how the modern media
operates its bias not through any one particular agent but rather through a
series of effects. None of these effects if taken in isolation would constitute
a dominant influence on what the news media presents. But taken together they
can and often do.
These effects they call 'filters'. Taken together these
'filters' alter the balance of new coverage in favor of the current economic
structure.
In Manufacturing Consent the following five are listed:
1. Ownership, size and profit orientation of the dominant mass media firms:
The modern media is largely 'in private hands' despite the existence of many
national radio and TV stations. Some of these news networks - News
International, Hearst, etc. - are multi-billion pound businesses, with their
own profit demands. Many news companies also invest outside of the media - in
mining, manufacturing etc. - giving then a 'vested' interest in the current
(unequal) state of the world.
2. Advertising as the primary income source of the mass media: Most radio,
TV and newspapers depend heavily on advertising. There are two aspects to this.
Advertising revenue acts as a subsidy to production costs, allowing 'advertiser
friendly' media to undercut and expand relative to their 'advertiser
unfriendly' rivals. Secondly, as is well-known, advertising is mainly funded by
private business leading to an in-built subsidy to 'business friendly' media
and coverage. Media that challenges the direct interests of the 'rich and
privileged' will simply not get advertising revenues. Accordingly it may not
survive, or if it does, it will remain small and under-funded.
3. Media reliance on information provided by government, business and
'experts' funded by same: The media news services rely on 'respectable sources'
for news. In part this is to save on costs, but it also reflects the need to get
information from 'official sources' and 'not just anyone'. The Government is
often relied on because the 'Government is neutral'. The results are
predictable.
4. 'Flak' as a means of disciplining the media: The media is seen as an
important arena of debate in many parliamentary democratic societies. For this
reason, many 'Think-Tanks' target the media and monitor its output. Think-Tanks
are not cheap to set up or to run. Needless to say, they are funded by and
support those who have money and privilege. They can play a vital role in
altering the 'focus' of the media on an issue.
5. 'Anti-communism' as a control mechanism: 'Anti-Communism can mean the
traditional Cold War rhetoric that was powerful in the USA and in Western
Europe for much of the last fifty years. But it can also be the 'general idea
of socialism'. Labelling a journalist 'pro-communist' or the coverage of a
strike as 'pro-communist' is often a subtle but powerful way of putting
pressure on a news feature to moderate its focus (especially if the said
coverage or journalist is anything but 'communist').
News coverage of parliamentary elections is a special application of the
above. Coverage is shaped by a number of key assumptions - many of which are generalized
within the media services to such an extent that they are seen as being 'beyond
question'. Yet these assumptions influence the reporting, the evaluation and
the assessments of elections - thereby structuring the discussion and debate in
society in a way that is suitable to those who already have power and
privilege.
Some of these assumptions are listed below - they can be easily
seen.
1. Parliamentary elections are democracy in action.
2. A parliamentary election is your chance to have a real say.
3. The political parties who offer themselves for election are varied and
quite different; they represented the full spectrum of political options.
4. Politicians going back on their promises is just 'human nature'.
5. The outcome of a election makes a real difference
Fundamentally important issues relating to parliamentary elections are
never examined or pursued by the media - for clearly evident reasons. As will
be seen below, many elections repeat certain themes: 'putting the people
first', 'investing in education and health', 'tackling crime' - yet precious
little ever happens or changes. So Does your vote actually have any effect? Is
there an actual (as opposed to a nominal) choice at election time? Will a
politician keep his/her word? These are important questions and are central to
the subject of democracy - yet they are carefully avoided by a media attendant
to the interests of the powerful and privileged.
Did I Say That?
The idea of Parliament derives from the 'advisor
groups' that were appointed by the King in medieval times. The first
parliaments (for example those in England) were completely staffed with cronies
of the monarch - various Barons and Bishops and Earls who were seen as wise and
of 'sound mind'. Such persons were there to council the King on his decisions -
though it was understood that the King was not bound to follow their advice.
Since only the King was privy to all the information, it was accepted that only
the King should have 'executive' power - that is the power to make actual laws.
Modern government is still based on this old model. This can be seen in
number of ways. One surviving similarity is the idea of having two parts to the
decision-making system in government - an 'Executive' part and a
'Parliamentary' part. In some countries the Parliament has the job of
'discussing and debating' (and is somewhat 'advisory' in its role) whereas the
Executive actually 'proposes and implements' laws. (Depending on the particular
country, the Executive can be chosen in different ways. In Ireland and the UK,
for example, the Executive is usually composed of a group drawn from the
largest political party in the Parliament, whereas in the USA the Executive is
elected separately). Either way, the great change with the past, we are told,
is that we now 'choose' who will be in the Parliament and who will be in the
Executive. Because of this the decisions that are taken should 'reflect' what
we think.
True? The answer most definitely is NO.
A second similarity with the old medieval system makes sure of that. This
is the notion that only the Executive is privy to all the information necessary
to make decisions, and in essence is the only body in society that can and
should be allowed to make laws. So while politicians do stand at election time
for various policies and positions, and the voters cast their ballots on the
basis of these policies, an elected politician is not bound by any law to
follow these previously proclaimed policies and positions. Indeed, once elected
and a member of Government, a politician is entirely within his or her rights
to jettison any promises s/he may have made at the election.
The politician in
question is quite entitled (legally) to say: 'Having examined the state of the
public finances I have changed my mind about what I previously said - I now
think the opposite!'
It is through this notion that an elected parliament is able to discard
'the wishes' of the electorate, and to act as it sees fit. In actual practice
this is how your vote is discarded.
Though this idea (that a politician is not bound by your vote) may seem
like a minor technicality - it is not in practice. The idea that Parliament and
the Executive should retain 'autonomy' from those that elect them was
deliberately retained during the period of reform that saw suffrage being
extended to the mass of people in society. Though people were gradually
'granted' the right to vote for who should make up parliament, the crucial
right of a direct input was withheld. As J. S. Mill emphasized in a subtle but
meaningful way: democracy is 'not that the people govern themselves but that
they have the security for good government'.
To see how effective Parliament is at 'remaining independent' of the
electorate's wishes it is worth looking at a few examples. (These it should be
said have been chosen at random. There are hundreds of others and each election
throws up a new set. The following however do show the scope of the problem.)
PERU: The
elections in Peru in 1990 were fought against a backdrop of increasing poverty
and economic ruin. The Peruvian electorate was offered a choice between the
policies of Mario Vargas Llosa and those of Aberto Fujimoro. Llosa, a writer
and something of a novice in politics, made his policies well known. He argued
stridently for austerity and for massive cuts to anti-poverty programs in Peru
(such as they existed) as a means of curbing the State's debt. Fujimoro, who
was also somewhat new to politics, said a lot less but campaigned openly as 'an
alternative to Llosa'. Not surprisingly, the election saw the wise people of
Peru vote against Llosa and his IMF sponsored polices; Fujimoro won. Yet within
months, Fujimoro adopted Llosa's previously stated policies and inaugurated
unprecedented cutbacks and an attack on the poor - a process that later came to
be known as 'Fujishock'! 71
USA: Bill
Clinton's victory in 1992 came after twelve years of 'Reaganomics' - policies
that had led to a massive shift in wealth from the poor to the rich (see
later). Clinton made a number of important promises - some directly economic
and some related to 'social' issues.
- The introduction of a 'national health care system' was central to Clinton's campaign, and directly affected some 35 million US citizens. Clinton 'eventually' abandoned the idea of a promised medical insurance system in 1995. (It has not resurfaced.) In fact, there were more Americans without medical insurance at the end of Clinton's first term of office than before it began!
- Clinton's election slogan was 'to put people first' - a policy that had a certain ring to it after so many years of Reaganomics. Yet Clinton quickly changed his mind once elected and adopted what later become known as the 'Wall Street strategy'. As one commentator said: 'But, after the election, his economic team convinced him instead to concentrate on reducing the deficit' 72 A strategy that led Clinton to abolish the 'heating subsidy' for over 5 million poor Americans and to put a 'two year limit on welfare payments' after which time a person had to take a job (no matter what the pay) or starve.
- Gay Americans played a prominent part in Clinton's campaign and were promised equality of service in the US armed forces as a reward - this was abandoned within a year in favor of a 'don't ask, don't tell' policy.
Ireland: Before
the 1987 general election, Fianna Fail flooded the country with posters and
billboards declaring "Health Cuts hurt the old, the sick and the
handicapped". Within months of their being returned to government they
were implementing massive cutbacks in spending on health.
Prior to the general election of 1982, Fine Gael took out newspaper
advertisements warning that if Fianna Fail were elected they would impose a new
local tax in the form of service charges. Fianna Fail, meanwhile, warned in the
same newspapers that if Fine Gael won, they would impose service charges. The
Labour Party made a "clear and unambiguous" statement that they were
totally opposed to such charges. Following the election, a Fine Gael-Labour
government was formed and in July 1983 the Local Government Provisions Act No.
2 was passed by them. This empowered County Managers to charge for services.
Fianna Fail fought the subsequent 1985 local elections on an anti-service
charge ticket but immediately after the elections their councilors around the
country did a U-turn and voted for charges. Just before the general election of
1987, Fianna Fail gave a written guarantee to the National Association of Tenants
Organizations (NATO) that if returned to government they would scrap local
charges. They were and they didn't. In fact charges continued to be levied for
the next decade until a massive campaign of people power led to their
abolition. Over that ten-year period several TDs were elected to Dail Eireann
on anti-charges tickets. Eamonn Gilmore, Kathleen Lynch (both Democratic Left)
and Emmett Stagg (Labour) were all initially involved in anti-charges campaigns
and were actively calling on people not to pay the charges. Yet all ended up in
a government which was dragging people before the courts for exactly that.
Australia: The
1993 general election in Australia was a close run affair. Eventually it did
end with a win for the ALP(Australian Labor Party) who partly secured their
victory by promising some 'popular reforms' aimed at improving hospital waiting
lists and helping the 'middle range' of people financially (through tax
reform). These promised reforms played an important part in the election since
the gap between the rich and poor in Australia had widened considerably during
the 1980s. Yet by August of 1993, just three months after the election, the ALP
had ditched five specific promises it had made at the election:
1) a special tax relief for pensioners
2) a dental health assistance subsidy for low-income earners
3) money to be made available to pay for private hospital beds (in order to cut waiting lists)
4) improvement to housing grants and
5) a broad tax cut.
2) a dental health assistance subsidy for low-income earners
3) money to be made available to pay for private hospital beds (in order to cut waiting lists)
4) improvement to housing grants and
5) a broad tax cut.
France: During
the Presidential election in 1995, Chirac made an important (in the eyes of the
electorate) promise not to 'raise taxes.' He also promised to create jobs by
increased spending. A few months after his election, during the notoriously
'quiet' summer period in French politics, Chirac's Prime-Minster Alan Juppé
presented a 'supplementary budget to raise an extra $6 billion in taxes by the
end of the year' 73 which interestingly (noted the Economist) 'hit the poor
hardest' 74 Not that this sufficed. In a later twist, Juppé and Chirac having
promised to create 700,000 jobs by the end of 1996, ended up increasing
unemployment by announcing spending cuts of $5 billion to 'meet the Maastricht
criteria'!
Brazil: The
seasoned politician Fernando Cardoso used a thoughtful ploy on his 'campaign
trail' that saw him win the 1994 election. Before the crowds he would hold up
this hand and begin ticking off each of his main priorities - health,
education, housing, infrastructure and employment - one for each finger. 75 It was obviously effective in a country notorious for its levels of
inequality. (One percent of the population of Brazil received 15% of the income
in 1994 alone) 76 . Yet Cardoso seemed to have forgotten all of this less than one year
later when, noted the Economist, 'In Congress, Mr Cardoso and his team have
been busy with a package of market-freeing constitutional reforms, needed both
to keep inflation down and ensure growth' 77 A set of priorities that made him 'veto the minimum wage rise' and
introduce a 'tall order' in legislation, of such magnitude in fact that
'Britain's Conservatives ... have not achieved it in 16 years'. 78
Many Roads, One Destination
The important issues in politics are as plainly
obvious in India as anywhere else in the world - if not more so. The country
that is often called 'the largest democracy' in the world is also one of the most
unequal. Some 36% of the population are estimated 79 to be living in 'absolute poverty' (a condition defined by the UN as
'malnutrition, illiteracy, disease, high infant mortality or low life
expectancy'). Alongside this, the top 10% of Indian society absorbed nearly 35%
of the income of the nation in 1985 alone, skewing the wealth distribution into
even more unequal figures.
These are startling statistics. But in a society in which 'the people rule'
this situation - one would predict - should be quickly changed. Plain
'self-interest' should see to that. After all with so many poor people in such
a majority, it would seem to be just a case of simple mathematics to right the
wrong. One election is all it should take. Yet what has happened? In fact the
opposite has occurred. Despite some 40 years of parliamentary democracy and
'universal suffrage', India's inequality has remained impervious to change for
the better. In the last decade or so, the gap has actually been growing again.
The reasons why are not difficult to discover - nor are they particularly
Indian in content. Indian politics has been dominated almost since independence
by the Congress party, a political movement that is seen by many,
interestingly, to be on the left and to even have 'socialist' ideas. The other
significant party is the BJP. Besides the BJP there is a host of smaller
parties (some on the left, others on the right). However none of these ever
dent the arena of national politics so the practical choice is between only two
parties - Congress and the BJP.
Asked to clarify the differences between these two political parties in
1993, an Indian business journalist 80 saw none in practice. Both parties, he concluded, were 'travelling
down the one road.' The only point of difference between the BJP and Congress,
he pointed out, was the 'speed' of the journey and the 'side of the road they
[the parties] were travelling on'. So while the electorate in India does have a
choice at election time, both parties on the roster have - in effect - the same
overall policies. What are these?
Politics in India has been dominated since its foundation by the broad idea
of 'reform'.
More recently however, these 'reforms' have had a more focused
target. According to the Indian Prime-Minister, PV Rao of the Congress Party,
they 'had to do with changes in the companies act ... capital acquisition tax
and the financial sector reformsÉ' and also 'introducing value added tax' 81 . Noting the effect of these 'reforms', the Economist recorded a
familiar picture. It reported that 'Among unskilled Indians, real wages dropped
in the first 18 months of economic reforms.' Not that this was the entire
picture - far from it.
Though grain production in India was enlarging under the
new reforms ('not many people know it but India is sitting on a mountain of 30
million tones of grain'), the Economist went on to point out that 'the poor
could no longer afford to buy'.82 Indeed even Prime-Mister Rao, the architect of the reforms, was
appalled at this. And lashed out that it was 'scandalous that grain should be
exported when so many Indians still go hungry'. Though in a speech to the
Federation of the Indian Chambers of Commerce, two years earlier, in a more
sober mood, he had said (about the reforms) 'the difficult part lies ahead.
We
have a long way to go. The journey is bound to be long and difficult'. 83 And returning to that all important question, that of speed, he said
'the pace of reform would be governed by the ability of the system to absorb
changes 'without collapsing.' Such are the realities of 'the largest democracy'
in the world.
Providing no effective choice to the electorate amid the color, pomp and
drama of 'General Election Fever' is the stuff of parliamentary democracy. In
this game the media play a valuable and vital role. The 1993 parliamentary
election in Australia being a case in point.
It was described by the one of the main national papers as 'The most important
election since WW2.' Yet when asked to point out the differences between the
two options being 'offered' to the electorate, four different financial
commentators saw no 'real differences' that mattered in the long run. Why this
was so is quite easy to see. The Australian Labor Party had been in power
throughout the '80s in Australia and had presided over a 'historic drop in
wages' 84 and a variety of 'labour market reforms' that had 'borne fruit' 85 . Challenging the ALP were the traditional parties of big business
and big farmers - an alliance of the Liberal and the Country Party (whose
central election policy was the introduction of VAT - a tax that invariably
effects the poor more than the well off!).
The ALP eventually won the election after issuing a slew of promises
(quickly forgotten - see above). Though when he addressed a large 'group of
business leaders' shortly afterwards, the ALP leader, Paul Keating, was less
forgetful. In his speech Keating 'foreshadowed a historic deregulation of the
labour market' though he stressed (being a man who had not 'forgotten his
roots') that 'economic reform should be moderated by a concern for the
disadvantaged.' Not that this 'should put the Government and business at odds,'
he added, 'The success of economic policy depends on the success of
business' 86
We can look anywhere else in the globe and see a similar process. The
Presidential elections in Honduras in 1989 were hailed 'as a milestone' though
the effective choice between the two candidates left a lot to be desired: 'The
elections were effectively restricted to two candidates, one from a family of
wealthy industrialists, the other from a family of large landowners.' Even top
advisors to both camps acknowledged that 'there is little substantive
difference between the two and the policies they would follow as president.'.
Not that a lacklustre campaign resulted. The candidates, noted Central America
Report, 'relied on insults and accusations to entertain the crowds at campaign
rallies and political functions'. As US president Bush pointed out about the
victor, Rafael Callejas: He is 'an inspiring example of the democratic promise
that is spreading throughout the Americas.' 87
In Eastern Europe the experience of parliamentary democracy is somewhat
new, but it is not that much different. 'Painful shock therapy' was used on
many of the countries in this region after the fall of State Capitalism and
Soviet Power. This 'free-market madness' provoked a backlash in the population
(are we surprised?) with the result that 'reformed communists have come back
into power on waves of discontentÉ' (the Economist noted) 88 . In Poland this saw a victory for the Democratic Left Alliance (DLA)
in 1993 (in the Parliamentary election) and again in 1995 (in the Presidential
election). 'The once despised ex-communists gained votes by acknowledging the
suffering of ordinary peopleÉ' 89
What did this sensitivity translate into? The Economist (no friend of the
DLA's) pointed out that the situation was 'not as bad as it looked'. The DLA,
it went on, is led by 'young urbane politicians who claim to be social democrats
and preach free-market reforms and privatization.' Assessing the impact of the
election, they concluded 'It is possible that the new Government can be a
little kinder to those in need without seriously jeopardizing the reform program.' 90 Which seems to be quite accurate, in hindsight. The gap between the
rich and the poor is continuing to sky-rocket in Poland and throughout most of
the former Eastern Europe. As one piece of astute Polish graffiti pointed out:
'We wanted democracy, but we ended up with the bond market'. 91
Providing no effective choice is the reality in the vast majority of
parliamentary democracies. Parties vie for power at election time - the
campaigns are often 'hard-fought' and 'tough' but the only difference lies in
the faces that make up the next parliament, not in the policies. To all intents
and purposes these policies continue as before, unabated.
This is the case in the majority of countries that are called parliamentary
democracies. But it is not the case in all, and this most be borne in mind.
Indeed parliamentary democracy is often most successful as a form of political
control (as opposed to a form of democracy) because of its apparent 'openness'
and because of the fact that 'popular constituencies' are often encouraged to
participate in it. Many like to believe that 'if we got elected, we would be
different' - despite the mounting evidence to the contrary.
The history of parliamentary democracy is littered with examples of this:
parties and individuals who 'become identified with the masses' and carry for
them 'their hopes and dreams'. As was noted earlier with the examples of parliamentary
socialism, the anger of the poor is often channelled into parliament and away
from the workplace and the street where it can be particularly powerful. Once
in Parliament it gradually gets 'lost and forgotten about'.
A recent example of this dynamic is the case of Brazil's Luiz Inacio Lula
da Silva (known as Lula), the former 'lathe operator turned politician'. Indeed
Lula's popularity is legendary with the poor of Brazil. And well it might be.
In Brazil the power of business and the wealthy is only matched by the
brutality of the military and the large land-owners who have come to dominate.
Though phenomenally wealthy, Brazil has been steadily getting worse in terms of
the gap between the rich and the poor - a fact that has played no small part in
Lula's rise to fame. Brazil is a country where, in that timeworn phrase, 'the
poor appear to have no voice.' As chairman of the Workers Party of Brazil, Lula
quickly became such a voice, and in fact he very nearly won the 1989
Presidential election, so large was the genuine affection that was felt for him
and his 'anti-poverty' policies.
Lula narrowly lost the 1989 Presidential election. Why is still a subject
for debate. What is clear however is that Lula ran a very 'radical campaign' in
1989 - in particular he refused to compromise on his economic views. As a
result he maximized his vote with the very numerous poor of Brazil.
Defeat however led to reassessment with the result that the Lula who ran
again in 1994 was 'importantly different'. As the Economist noted, Lula 'may
still rail against capitalism. But at round tables and in the auditorium, he
takes care to turn down the volume'. Indeed the politician who boasted 'I'd
never wear a coat and tie' went out of his way to present a different
impression in 1994. 'In Washington ... 700 bankers and the like crowded into a
hall to hear him speak.' This was when he was 40% ahead in the polls.
So great was the change in Lula, in fact, that some wondered about 'who the
real Lula was'. Though others were less bothered. Jose Sobrinho, chairman of
Banco Pontual in San Paulo, observed, 'Lula attacks the banks for earning too
much, but these days he also says the financial sector is a necessary evil'. A
view underscored by another business man , Emerson Kapaz, who 'lavishes praise
on his rival' noting that Lula 'understands that he cannot govern alone. These
meetings with businessmen are not just for form's sake. He is looking for an
alliance that will make it possible' . 92
This example of Lula's turnabout is not unusual - it is quite typical and
happens again and again. It was most notable with the rise to power of the
various socialist and Labour parties of the world (see earlier), but it
continues to apply in any situation where a large grassroots movement seeks 'a
voice in parliament'. On the electoral road to power, political parties of the
left (in particular) go through a process of 'adaptation' and 'realism'. Their
radicalism is gradually diluted away so as to 'send the right message'. The
important constraints of electoralism - to build alliances, to retain 'a
positive media image' - all take their toll. Radical politics is the inevitable
casualty.
Occasionally it does happen that individuals and parties get into power
with the intention of making a few changes and/or 'fulfilling their popular
mandate'. This is rare, but when it does happen, other important constraints
are brought to bear 'on the situation' in order to prevent an 'un-welcomed outcome'.
These are the financial markets and the 'threat of a coup'.
The 'financial markets' more than any other single factor are playing an
increasingly important role in constraining 'your vote'. Though the effect of
the 'markets' is somewhat dependent on the size and relative economic
independence of the particular country involved, it is nevertheless becoming an
important factor almost everywhere with time.
The effect of the 'financial
markets' can be in a number of different ways:
1. When an elected Government does pursue, on occasion, a policy that
'conflicts' with the overall interests of business the prospect of 'flight of
capital can be brought into play' as a means of disciplining that Government.
This happened in the very notable case of France in 1981 after the victory of
the French Socialist Party. 'Initial hostility on the part of business was
manifested in manoeuvres to avoid nationalisation and a flight of capital
abroad'. 93 This was evident in the French media where 'Businessmen made a show
of studied pessimism, painting reality in excessively dark colours and
discouraging hiring and investment'. France entered 'a crisis'. And in due
course, after the balance of power within the French Socialist Party shifted
back towards a more moderate program, French business once again 'became
prepared to play its role with a certain amount of loyalty'.94
2. A similar, though importantly different, example is the recent case of
South Africa. Here the source of 'financial constraint' is non-national -
unlike in the case of France above. The actual achievement of popular suffrage
in S. Africa after a long and bitter struggle against the apartheid system
fuelled real expectations that substantial change would occur in the aftermath
of the vote in April 1994 - in particular with regard to wealth distribution.
This did not occur.
The Irish Times' correspondent in SA, Edward O'Loughlin,
noted in December 1994 (7 months after Government formation) that the ANC's key
problem 'is growing discontent among its black constituency, which believes the
ANC has done little to improve their lot since taking power'. 95 However, despite this, in March 1995 the same correspondent reported
that 'South Africa's second post apartheid budget ... has once again
demonstrated the commitment of the country's new rulers to fiscal discipline
and free-market reforms'. 96 Noting that the ANC's program had been 'tempered by reality'
O'Loughlin reported that the 'budget message' was overshadowed 'by the ongoing
crisis over exchange rates and exchange controls'. Indeed the Rand's (South
Africa's currency) fall from grace (its value slumped against the US dollar)
was as a result of 'rumors’ and 'perceptions'. Though the London based
Financial Times, was less circumspect in assessing the impact of this. It noted
that Trevor Manual, the ANC's minister of finance, had 'moved a long way
towards embracing free market policies. The challenge now is to persuade the
rest of the ANC and in particular its union and communist allies to catch-up.' Emphasizing
the 'disciplinary effect' of the currency problem, the Financial Times
continued: 'The value of the Rand in the months ahead is likely to provide an
accurate reflection of the progress of that political struggle'. 97
3. The third example is more general, but is also the most indicative of
how little parliamentary democracy can mean in today's world. With the
'financial markets' skewed towards the rich and powerful countries in the First
World, more 'dependent' economies are increasingly cut adrift by decisions made
in say Washington, London or Tokyo. A classic example being the 1979 decision
by the Chairman of the US Federal Reserves, Paul Volcker, to 'raise the rate of
interest and thereby also to raise the value of the dollar'. 98According to the economist, Andre Frank, this decision 'was the single most
important cause of the debt crisis and consequently the depression and
"lost decade" of the 80s'. 99Indeed in Latin America and Africa the cost of this depression remains
untold, though of huge dimension. Perhaps tens of thousands of lives were lost
as a result of this 'financial decision.' Frank also notes, interestingly, that
even in the specific context of parliamentary democracy neither the American
electorate nor the Congress nor the President had any 'right to intervene in
such a decision of the Federal Reserve'. A timely reminder of 'the limits' of
parliamentary democracy - if such a reminder is still needed.100
In contrast to the remoteness and 'subtlety' of the financial markets, the
'threat of a coup' is an entirely different matter, though no less unreal if we
are to judge by even relatively recent examples e.g. Haiti (1991), Algeria
(1992), Nigeria (1993) to name just a few.
It is often assumed that such coups occur in situations where 'radical'
polices are involved but this, surprisingly enough, is not the case. Coups in
parliamentary democracies often occur against relatively 'reasonable'
Governments - a fact that supports the theory that it is often the broader
social movement that is the real target of the military. An important example
being the coup against the Allende government in Chile in 1973. It is often not
recognized that the reforms being introduced by the popularly elected
government of Salvador Allende were for the most part quite benign, involving
'land reform' of large estates (with compensation) and nationalization of
copper mines (with compensation).
However Allende's period in office was also accompanied by the emergence of
'assemblies of workers in factories, People's Supply Committees in the publicans
... Peasant Councils in rural areas'. These groups began to play a more and
more important role as Allende's Government stalled on implementing its
promised polices. 'Basic demands emerged from these popular organizations. The
Government was supposed to represent the people, in that case it should put
into operation the policies the people were demanding.' 101 Indeed this popular movement became increasingly confident and
impatient as time went on, and in some areas began to supplant the State. Food
distribution was taken over by community organizations; workers became more
belligerent and occupied their places of work ejecting managers; in the
countryside land was occupied.
The subsequent coup in Chile led to the loss of thousands of lives and the
'liquidation of the left'.
The Rich get Richer...
________________________________________
George F. Will, 1988
Conservative Commentator
Politics Is About Who Gets What,
Especially As A Result Of Government Action
Governments change but policies don't. This, for the most part, is an adequate description of how parliamentary democracy operates. It probably sounds like something an anarchist would say - yet the figures bear it out. Take the case of the United States - often regarded as the 'home of democracy' or even 'the most democratic state in the world'. Despite the various changes in Government that have occurred in the US over the last twenty to thirty years, there has hardly been a hiccup in the most obvious result of Government policy - that rich people have got dramatically richer. Figure 2 shows this.
Figure 2: Mean Incomes of Population Quintiles, 1954-86
During the period of time covered by this survey of incomes (1954-84) there have been eight Presidential elections in the US. The outcome of these elections has led to a steady exchange - between Republicans and Democrats. The following 'administrations' have been in power: Republican (1956-60), Democratic (1960-64), Democratic (1964-68), Republican (1968-72) Republican (1972-76), Democratic (1976-80), Republican (1980-84).
Yet it is clearly evident from Figure 2 that 'universal suffrage' has had only a marginal effect, if any, on the policies that have been pursued. The income of the top 40% of US society (the 4 and 5th quintiles) has steadily increased in comparison with the bottom 60%. The real beneficiaries have been the so-called 'super-rich' - the top 5% of the population. As can also be seen in Fig 3, the very rich have been holding steady in terms of their percentage holding of wealth in US society throughout the entire period. (Interestingly enough, the one point where their wealth holding dropped by a significant amount, between 1972 and 1976, was due to the onset of recession and the 'oil crisis' and not due to any Government policy!)
Figure 3: Estimated % of Total Wealth Held by the
Top 1% of US Households
In fact, to the extent that things have changed at all, in any significant way, from election to election, they have mostly changed for the worse. The policies implemented by Reagan, Bush and Clinton (Republican, Republican and Democrat) have had a dramatic impact on the distribution of income and wealth in the USA. Kevin Phillips' mainstream study, The Politics Of Rich And Poor, described the worsening situation as follows:
'By the middle of Reagan's second term, official data had begun to show that America's broadly defined 'rich' - the top half of 1% of the US population - had never been richer. Federal policy favoured the accumulation of wealth and rewarded financial assets, and the concentration of income that began in the mid-1970s was accelerating. In 1988, approximately 1.3 million individual Americans were millionaires by assets, up from 574,000 in 1980, 180,000 in 1972, 90,000 in 1964, and just 27,000 in 1953. Even adjusted for inflation the number of millionaires had doubled between the late seventies and the late eighties. Meanwhile the number of billionaires, according to Forbes magazine, went from a handful in 1981 to 26 in 1986 and 49 in 1987. As of late 1988, Forbes put that year's number at 52 billionaires.'102
This 'phenomenal rise' in the wealth of the rich occurred at the expense of those who work, it would seem. See Figure 4.
Fig 4: Divergence between pay of workers and CEO's in the 1980's
'Most of the Reagan decade, to put it mildly, was a heyday for unearned income as rents, dividends, capital gains and interest gained relative to wages and salaries as a source of wealth, increasing economic inequality.'103
A situation that was put down (quite rightly) to Reaganomics. Yet when Reagan and his successor, Bush, were finally removed from office in 1992 on foot of Clinton's 'put people first campaign', the super-accumulation of wealth merely continued. Assessing Clinton's impact (after his first term in office) in 1996, the Economist reported that 'real wages are slightly lower than they were 20 years ago'. 104
Inequality had never been higher as we can see in Figure 5.
I
f we look at another flagship of 'democracy' - Britain - the picture is more complex but broadly similar. Even so what is interesting about Britain is the presence of the Labour Party - a party that until quite recently was committed 'to public ownership' of industry (Clause 4) among other things. Indeed, on face value, the British electorate would appear to have a 'reasonable' choice at election time (within the confines of very narrow limits admittedly). Face value is a deceptive thing, of course.
Figure 5-6: Distribution of Personal Income (UK)
Atkinson gives this assessment:
'The overall impression from the figures is a reduction in inequality but, if the decline in the share of the top 1% is ignored, the shape of the distribution of income is not greatly different in 1976-77 from what it was in 1949. The major part of the fall in the share of the top 1 per cent is balanced by an increase in the shares of the other groups in the top half of the distribution. The income distribution shows a remarkable stability from year to yearÉ''105
And of course, it normally follows that if income distribution fails to change, wealth (fixed asset) distribution doesn't either.
The Labour Party was in power for considerable periods during this time:
between 1945 and '51 under Atlee, between 1964 and '70 under Wilson, and -
traumatically - from 1975-'79 under Wilson and Callaghan (apart from the brief
Liberal-Labour pact, 1977-78). Indeed Labour's period at the helm coincided
with the creation of the 'Welfare State' - regarded as the high-point of achievement.
So much so that the influential Labour MP, Anthony Crossland, was able to state
in The Future Of Socialism in 1956 that,' almost all the basic features of
traditional pre-1914 Capitalism have either been greatly modified or completely
transformed.' 106
Indeed Crossland was so carried away with the success of Labour in
power that he began to wonder if they hadn't gone too far (the heady height of
power, one imagines!). He said: 'I'm sure that a definite limit exists to the
degree of equality which is desirable. We do not want complete equality of
incomes, since responsibility and exceptional talent requires and deserves a
differential award'. 107
Those who remained outside the corridors of power saw a different and
depressingly familiar picture. Richard Titmuss, in his study, was one of the
first to conclude that 'the Welfare State in Britain after WW2 has not led to
any significant re-distribution of wealth in favour of the poor classes.' 108
An assessment that is backed up by Padgett and Paterson in their
authoritative study, A History of Social Democracy in Post-war Europe. They
note, 'Britain in the immediate post-war period saw a reduction in pre-tax
incomes of the highest earners, but the beneficiaries were those in the
upper-middle income bracket ... The share of pre-tax and post-tax income
accruing to the bottom third of the income ladder remained steady from 1945 to
the mid-1970s.' 109
Wealth distribution, in fact, was hardly affected until the late 1970s
when, on foot of Thatcher's rise to power, the situation dramatically
disimproved. So much so that Britain became 'the most unequal country in the
Western World' by 1996. It could proudly claim that 'the richest fifth of
Britain's population enjoy, on average, incomes 10 times as high as the poorest
fifth'. 110
***
The 'Welfare State' was an important development in the post-war period to
the extent that it lifted the standard of living of society in general - though
it did not markedly affect wealth distribution. This should not actually
surprise us since, as commentators have noted, 'Social Democrats have often
regarded the welfare state possessively as 'their own' property, looking to it
as a vehicle for this egalitarian philosophy. However the origins of the
welfare state predate government social democracy, and it is a common feature
of all capitalist societies irrespective of their experience of party
government.' 111
Nevertheless, as the 1980s proceeded, and the balance of power shifted
significantly in favour of the 'rich and privileged' - especially in the
workplace under the aegis of high 'managed unemployment' - it became possible
in many countries to consider 'ending the welfare state as we know it'. This
broad objective was achieved in a number of countries in a number of ways. In
Britain it was 'Thatcherism', in the USA it was the Reagan and Clinton
administrations. In a host of other countries however - especially in Europe
and in Australia - the various Labour and socialist parties did the bidding.
Indeed the period between 1980 and 1995 is remarkable for the large numbers
of socialist and Labour parties that came to power - in France, Spain,
Portugal, Greece, Ireland (in coalition), Italy, Belgium, Denmark, Australia
and New Zealand, to name just some. We can of course speculate on why: was it a
'cry for help' by the working-class and the poor? If so, it went unheard.
Speaking about the situation in Spain, Portugal and Greece, Padgett and
Paterson note that 'The hallmark of governmental social democracy ... was its
pragmatism, most marked in economic policy.' This meant that in Spain and
Portugal, for example, Socialist Governments 'introduced austerity programs
immediately upon taking office.' In Portugal this 'bitter pill' meant 'cutting
subsidies on basic commodities, inevitably driving up basic food prices. At the
same time there was a freeze on wages and a clamp-down on public spending.' In
Portugal, the purchasing power of its workforce fell by 10% under 'Socialist'
rule. 112
A situation that was broadly repeated in Spain, Italy, Greece, and
France, to again name just a few. (France incidentally shot up the 'inequality'
ladder after nearly a decade of 'Socialist Party rule').
A performance that was repeated on the other side of the world, in
Australia, where the ALP was in power under Hawke and Keating for almost all of
the 1980s. Here 'many ALP supporters accepted that a degree of compromise was
inevitable when a Labor Government was in office during difficult economic
times. Yet many felt frustrated that the Hawke government seemed inclined to
... implement changes in the financial sphere ... often in line with views of
conservative economists'.113 Which led one Labor 'stalwart' to note: 'There has been in Australia
a move towards the philosophy that whatever is spent on the poor causes a
deficit, whatever is spent on the rich encourages investment'.114
Indeed this role of the various Labour and socialist parties of the world
in attacking 'their own' is often the basis for a wider decline. Rank and file
party activists often suffer demoralization and confusion in its aftermath, as
does the (working-class) electorate, which as usual votes in good faith for
such parties. This demoralisation is fertile ground for 'right-wing' politics.
It is noteworthy that in a host of countries, where this has happened, the
electorate has often returned a 'Conservative' government in the aftermath of a
period of 'socialist rule' (France, Spain, Australia, to name just three.) Not
surprisingly, the returned 'Conservative' alternative persists with polices
that further attack the standard of living of the working-class. A complete
circle, as they say.
The recent direction of economic policy in Ireland is a good example of one
other tendency in parliamentary democracy: the people voted, but so what. In
Ireland the proportion of the GDP that is allocated to 'social spending' has
been declining since 1985. However this policy has never actually been voted on
by the electorate, despite a number of elections in this time-span. Since the
'public' in Ireland and elsewhere cannot be persuaded to vote for such
cut-backs, the various Governments have instead resorted to what is called by
the Economist 'Reform ... by stealth'. In a survey entitled the 'Changing Face
Of The Welfare State' 115 , the same magazine speculates that this reform by stealth 'might yet
transform the welfare state'.
'Reform By Stealth', it notes, has three distinct parts. Firstly, restrict
claims by attaching conditions to benefits. Secondly, 'provide universal basic
welfare coverage, but ... redefine 'basic' downwards.' Thirdly, introduce
'means-testing'. In Ireland, despite numerous changes in the Government. -
Fianna Fail/ PD, Fianna Fail/ Labour and Fine Gael/Labour/Democratic Left -
this policy has been ongoing since 1985. It has been quite successful, the
articles notes, and has led to 'a nibble here, and a nibble there'. The result
is an ever familiar picture: poverty has risen 116as a percentage of the Irish population during the period under review even
though all the parties are committed to 'tackling poverty'.
****
In his well-known study of the democratic idea, C. B. Macpherson, notes the
changing fortunes of the 'idea of democracy' among the elite of the world. It
has been a rocky road:
Democracy used to be a bad word. Everyone who was anybody knew that
democracy, in its original sense of rule by people ...would be a bad thing -
fatal to all the graces of civilized living. That was the position taken by
pretty nearly all men of intelligence from the earliest time down to about one
hundred years ago. Then, within fifty years, democracy became a good thing. Its
full acceptance into the ranks of respectability was apparent by the time of
the First World War... Since then, in the last fifty years democracy has remained
a good thing... so much so that everyone claims to have it.'117
It could not be put more plainly. Parliamentary democracy is a good thing
(in fact it is one of the best thing around) if you wish to preserves the
current unequal order - as the rich do. It delivers the essential result every
time we vote: the rich get richer and the poor get poorer.
Parliament or democracy?
Throughout history there has been an alternative
idea of democracy - this is the idea of direct democracy. It surfaced during
the Paris Commune (in 1871), it surfaced in Russia during the early part of the
revolution there, and it was put into large-scale practice in Spain between
1936-37. It is the method often used by workers in a strike; it is the method
that often arises 'spontaneously' when people confront the State or the bosses.
Direct democracy is the democracy that anarchists advocate.
Direct democracy is different to parliamentary democracy in a number of
important ways:
1.Direct democracy is about 'originating' ideas as much as it is about
'approving' them. In parliamentary democracy, people are never asked for their
own ideas - they are only asked to 'approve' or 'disapprove' of ideas already
prepared for them. Direct democracy is radically different in that way. Direct
democracy is based on the realistic notion that 'people know best how to look
after their own situation'. We don't need specialists to tell us how to run our
places of work or our communities. Anarchists argue that we are quite capable
of doing this ourselves. All we need are the resources and the right to do
this. Direct democracy is the method.
2.Direct democracy is based on delegation not representation. The crucial
difference between delegation and representation is that delegates are only
elected to implement specific decisions. Delegates do not have the right (like
TDs or MPs) to change a decision previously made by an assembly of people.
Delegates (unlike representatives) can be immediately recalled and dismissed
from their mandate if they don't carry out the specific function allotted to
them.
3.Direct democracy is as much about the workplace as it is about the
community. In parliamentary democracy, the workplace is 'immune' to democracy
(save what rights workers have won through their unions). In direct democracy,
the operation of a factory or a plant or an office will be via a general
assembly of all workers. This body will decide on conditions of work, will
elect re-callable managers, and will organize how work is done. It will also
elect people (as delegates) who will co-ordinate with the other places of work
and with the broader community. Regional organization will be managed through a
federation of workplaces using a delegate structure.
Could such a form of democracy work and what would it be like? As mentioned
earlier, Spain provides one of the best examples of how far we can go in organizing
a new type of society. The collectives that were built by the workers of Spain
between 1936-37 were highly democratic 118 . But they also showed the massive potential that we have if freed
from the constraints of capitalism. It seems obvious (though it is impossible
under capitalism) that we should all have a say over the work we do, how we do
it, when and in what way. When we do have these rights, the quality and nature
of our work changes enormously - and this is one of the things that was
achieved in Spain. Democracy and work should always go together - and it is one
of the singular failures of parliamentary democracy that this has never
occurred - nor is it ever likely to occur because of the threat it poses to
capitalism and the rule of the boss.
***
The Spanish Revolution began in 1936 and was strongly influenced by
anarchist ideas. It was a large-scale revolution and was without any doubt the
most extensive workers' revolution in the 20th century - especially to the
extent that Spanish society was transformed.
The Spanish Revolution was also particularly democratic - this was in part
a reflection of the natural tendencies of popular revolutions, but it was also
an expression of the wide influence of anarchist ideas which prioritized
participation and mass assemblies in the struggle against Spanish capitalism.
Anarchist ideas are founded around the principle of 'means and ends'. We
believe that the means we use will condition the ends we achieve. Anarchists
want to build a free and democratic workers' society. As a result anarchists
use methods that will build this within the struggle for change. Partly as a
result of anarchist activity, the workers' movement in Spain was strongly
influenced by the practice of democracy - this was a deliberate goal.
Anarchist methods of struggle set out to increase the self-activity and
self-confidence of the working-class. For this reason anarchists oppose any
involvement with the 'parliamentary road to socialism'. Parliamentary activity
and 'electioneering' - in Spain as elsewhere - increases the passivity of
workers and encourages people to believe that 'someone else' will bring
socialism. Anarchists fundamentally oppose this notion. We know - and history
seems to vindicate the view - that 'the emancipation of the workers can only be
carried out by the workers themselves'.
The methods used by anarchists in Spain were conscious and thought-out.
They are as relevant now as they were then. The main ones were as follows.
- Direct action was stressed as a means of resolving disputes with the Government and the bosses. Anarchists pointed out that direct action is, firstly, very effective (since it often gets to the root of the problem). Secondly, it increases the confidence of those who struggle by showing them in practice the strength that they have (as a collective body).
- Workplace assemblies were the principal method for decision making in anarchist unions. Anarchists point out that workers are most powerful at their place of work. This is where we must organize. And this is where we must always attempt to implement democracy - not with the bosses but against them.
- Anarchists used delegation not representation as means of getting things done. Anarchists obviously recognized that a mass assembly of people is an unwieldy body for doing a lot of tasks. In a democracy it is natural that we will appoint people to do certain things - this is a vital division of labour that must be used. But this appointment should be on the basis of delegation not representation. Delegates unlike representatives are subject to recall (if they don't do what they were asked to do by the assembly, they can be relieved of their mandate and their actions reversed). This idea of delegation keeps the power of decision-making at the level of the mass assembly.
- Anti-parliamentarianism. Anarchists actively campaigned against using the Spanish parliament. They argued that the various Socialist and Communist parties in Spain would not bring about real change. Anarchists emphasized that only the workers themselves could do this. Anarchists refused to participate in the Spanish parliamentary process because they believed it would divert or even compromise the 'revolutionary' objective. Anti-parliamentarianism was a major part of the democracy movement in Spain.
The anarchist strategy of direct action and direct democracy in Spain was concretized
by the formation of the syndicalist CNT union in 1910. Syndicalism was an
attempt to provide a link between the broader anarchist movement and the
workers on the shop-floor. Its basic ideas revolved around all the workers
being in one big union. All the employees in a workplace would join. They would
link up with those in other jobs in the same area, and an area federation would
be formed. Delegates from these would go forward to regional federations who
were then united into a national federation. All the delegates of the CNT were
elected and recallable. They were given a clear mandate and if they broke it
they could be replaced with new delegates.
Every effort was made to prevent the growth of a bureaucracy of
unaccountable full-time officials. There was only one full-time official in all
of the CNT. Union work was done during working hours where possible, otherwise
after work. This ensured that the officials of the union stayed in contact with
the shop-floor.
The CNT experienced rapid growth from the time of its formation. By the
outbreak of the Civil War in 1936 it had almost two million members. Its
strongholds were in Catatonia and in Andalusia. It also had large followings in
Galicia, Asturias, Levant, Saragossa and Madrid. Its main strength was among
textile, building and wood workers as well as amongst agricultural labourers.
As it preached social revolution it was subject to vicious repression not only
under the semi-dictatorship which ruled in Spain until 1931 but also the
'reforming' governments which followed. The Popular Front Government in
particular, with its social democratic and Stalinist supporters, showed no
mercy to the anarchist movement.
The revolution that overtook Spain in July 1936 119 occurred initially as a response to the attempted coup by the
military led by General Franco. The response to the coup in Catalonia, and
Aragon and in many other places where the anarchists were strong, was the
fruition of years of direct action and direct democracy in the Spanish workers'
movement. Immediately the popular movement that had resisted the fascists moved
beyond the notion of restoring 'parliamentary democracy' and began to implement
a new democratic society.
ON THE LAND: Collectivization
of the land was extensive. Close on two thirds of all land in the Republican
zone (that area controlled by the anti-fascist forces) was taken over. In all
between five and seven million peasants were involved. The major areas were
Aragon where there were 450 collectives, the Levant (the area around Valencia)
with 900 collectives and Castille (the area surrounding Madrid) with 300
collectives. Not only was the land collectivized but in the villages workshops
were set up where the local trades-people could produce tools, furniture, etc.
Bakers, butchers, barbers and so on also decided to collectivize.
Collectivization was voluntary and thus quite different from the forced
"collectivization" presided over by Stalin in Russia. Usually a
meeting was called in the village (most collectives were centred on a
particular village) and all present would agree to pool together whatever land,
tools and animals they had. This 'pool' would be added to what had already been
taken from the big landowners. The land was divided into rational units and
groups of workers were assigned to work them. Each group had its delegate who
represented their views at meetings of the collective. A management committee
was also elected and was responsible for the overall running of the collective.
They would look after the buying of materials, exchanges with other areas,
distributing the produce and necessary public works such as the building of
schools. Each collective held regular general meetings of all its participants.
If you didn't want to join the collective you were given some land but only as
much as you could work yourself. You were not allowed to employ workers.
Production was changed by the Revolution but so was distribution. This was
altered so as to be on the basis of what people needed. In many areas money was
abolished. People come to the collective store (often churches which had been
turned into warehouses) and got what was available. If there were shortages,
rationing was introduced to ensure that everyone got their fair share. But it
was usually the case that production increased under the new system, thereby
eliminating shortages.
In agricultural terms the revolution occurred at a good time. Harvests that
would normally have been sold off to make big profits for a few landowners were
instead distributed to those in need. Doctors, bakers, barbers, etc. were given
what they needed in return for their services. Where money was not abolished a 'family
wage' was introduced so that payment was on the basis of need and not the
number of hours worked.
Production increased greatly. Technicians and agronomists helped the
peasants to make better use of the land. Modern scientific methods were
introduced and in some areas yields increased by as much as 50%. There was
enough to feed the collectivists and the militias in their areas. Often there
was enough for exchange with other collectives in the cities for machinery. In
addition food was handed over to the supply committees who looked after
distribution in the urban areas.
Federations of collectives were established, the most successful being in
Aragon. In June 1937 a plenum of Regional Federations of Peasants was held. Its
aim was the formation of a national federation 'for the co-ordination and
extension of the collectivist movement and also to ensure an equitable
distribution of the produce of the land, not only between the collectives but
for the whole country'. Unfortunately many collectives were smashed, not by
Franco's army but by the soldiers of the Stalinist General Lister, before this
could be done.
The collectivists were not only concerned with their material well being.
They had a deep commitment to education and as a result of their efforts many
children received an education for the first time. This was not the usual
schooling either. The methods of Francisco Ferrer, the world famous anarchist
educationalist, were employed. Children were given basic literacy skills and
after that inquisitive skills were encouraged. Old people were also looked
after and where necessary special homes for them were built. Refugees from the
fascist controlled areas were looked after too.
IN THE CITY: In
industry the situation was a little different. The collectivization was not as
extensive in urban areas but it still occurred on a huge scale. In Barcelona
over 3,000 enterprises were collectivized. All the public services, not only in
Catalonia but throughout the Republican zone, were taken over and run by
committees of workers.
To give some idea of the extent of the collectivization here is a list
provided by one observer 120 . He says
'railways, traincars and buses, taxicabs and shipping, electric light and
power companies, gasworks and waterworks, engineering and automobile assembly
plants, mines and cement works, textile mills and paper factories, electrical
and chemical concerns, glass bottle factories and perfumeries, food processing
plants and breweries were confiscated and controlled by workmen's (sic)
committees, either term possessing for the owners almost equal significance ...
Motion picture theatres and legitimate theatres, newspapers and printing,
shops, department stores and hotels, deluxe restaurants and bars were likewise
sequestered.'
Often the workplaces were seized because the owners had fled or had stopped
production to sabotage the revolution. But the workers did not stop with these
workplaces - all major places of work were taken over. Some were run and
controlled by the workers. In others "control committees" were
established to ensure that production was maintained (these existed to exercise
a power of veto on the decisions of the boss in cases where the workers had not
taken over the actual power of management).
In each workplace an assembly of all the workers was the basic unit. Within
the factory workers would elect delegates to represent them on day-to-day
issues. Anything of overall importance had to go to the assembly. This would
elect a committee of between five and fifteen workers, which would elect a
manager to oversee the day-to-day running of the workplace. Within each
industry there was an Industrial Council which had representatives of the two
main unions (CNT and UGT) and representatives from the committees.
Technicians
were also on these committees to provide technical advice. The job of the
Industrial Council was to set out an overall plan for the industry.
The Barcelona trams are a good example of what workers achieved when they
took over:
Out of the 7,000 workers on the tramways at the time of the Revolution,
some 6,500 were members of the CNT. Because of the street battles, all
transport had been brought to a halt. The transport syndicate (as unions of the
CNT were known) appointed a commission of seven to occupy the administrative
offices while others inspected the tracks and drew up a plan of repair work
that needed to be done. Five days after the fighting stopped 700 tramcars,
instead of the usual 600, all painted in the black and red colors of the CNT,
were operating on the streets of Barcelona.
With the profit motive gone, safety became more important and the number of
accidents was reduced. Fares were lowered and services improved. In 1936, over
183 million passengers were carried. By 1937 this had gone up to over 233
million. The trams were running so efficiently that the workers were able to
give money to other sections of urban transport. Wages were equalized for all
workers and increased over the previous rates. For the first time free medical
care was provided for the work force.
Extensive reorganization took place to make industry more efficient. Many
uneconomic small plants, which were usually unhealthy, were closed down and
production was concentrated in those plants with the best equipment. In
Catalonia 70 foundries were closed down. The number of tanning plants was
reduced from 71 to 40 and the whole wood industry was reorganized by the CNT
Woodworkers Union.
In 1937 the central government admitted that the war industry of Catalonia
produced ten times more than the rest of Spanish industry put together and that
this output could have been quadrupled if Catalonia had the access to the
necessary means of purchasing raw materials.
As with the examples of rural collectivization, distribution was also
changed. Many parasitic 'middlemen' were cut out of distribution. The wholesale
business in fish and eggs was taken over as were the principal fruit and
vegetable markets. The milk trade in Barcelona was collectivized which saw over
70 un-hygienic pasteurizing plants closed down. Everywhere supply committees
were set up. All of this made the middle classes very unhappy. To them, with
their notions of becoming bigger bosses, the revolution was a step backwards.
Equalization funds were established to help out the poorer collectives.
Indeed there were many problems. Many markets were cut off in the fascist zone
and some foreign markets were also temporarily lost. Raw materials were often
scarce, as sources of supply had been cut off; there was the added problem that
money was held back from the collectives by the central government (for
political reasons). This was one serious, though artificial, short-coming of
the collectivization - its lack of credit facilities which would have allowed
investment and future planning. (During the Revolution the banks had not been
seized and the gold reserve already referred to stayed in the hands of the
government. The CNT did hatch a plan to seize it, but backed down at the last moment).
Despite all this, production was increased and living standards for many
working class people improved. In October 1936 the government was forced to recognize
the collectivization by passing a decree that recognized the fait accompli. It
was also an attempt to control future collectivization.
This is only a very brief look at the collectivization that happened. But
in keeping with anarchist beliefs the revolution did not stop there. For the
first time in Spain many workers had the benefit of a health service - organized
by the CNT Federation of Health Workers. The Federation consisted of 40,000
health workers - nurses, doctors, administrators and orderlies. Once again the
major success was in Catalonia where it ensured that all of the 2.5 million
inhabitants had adequate health care.
Victims of the Civil War were also
treated. A programme of preventive medicine was also established based on local
community health centres. At their 1937 Congress these workers developed a
health plan for a future anarchist Spain which could have been implemented if
the revolution had been successful.
***
The importance of the workers' collectives in Spain lie in the example that
they provide. Elitist opinion since time immemorial has portrayed 'popular
rule' as an impossibility on the one hand, or as a state of affairs that is
likely to result in a shambles, on the other. The workers of Spain showed this
to be entirely false - and showed this on a grand scale. Now as much as then,
they offer us a concrete idea of how society can be organized by workers in a
democratic and free way. This is viable alternative.
Despite the power of such an example we are still faced with a difficult
and tough struggle ahead - how to end the capitalist system with its greed, its
misery and its competition. Now is as good a time as any to consider how we
should conduct this struggle, what its aims should be, and what methods we
should use. We must aim for revolution and we must aim for real democracy.
These are the essential goals, the points that we must reach before we can ever
change anything. To do this, we argue as anarchists that we must build where we
are actually strong - at work and in the community. Our methods must build on
class solidarity, they must use direct action, they must aim to increase the
self-activity of workers and the poor; they must always encourage
participation.
About one thing we have no doubts. Parliament will not bring us the change
that we now need. Parliament is a means of diffusing democracy, of channelling
real struggles into a safe dead-end. Time and time again it has become a
graveyard for the workers' movement.
That is a mistake we must not repeat again.
Download and print out Parliament or democracy
References
________________________________________
1 S. Bowles and H. Gintis, Democracy and Capitalism (Routledge Keegan Paul, 1986), p28.
2 ibid., p28.
3 ibid., p28.
4 A. Arblaster, The Rise And Decline Of Western Liberalism (Basil Blackwell, 1984), p160.
5 ibid., p160.
6 E. Hobsbawm, The Age Of Revolution (Mentor, 1962), p54.
7 ibid., p168.
8 ibid., p42.
9 ibid., p45.
10 ibid., p38.
11 ibid., p49.
12 ibid., p49.
13 ibid., p49.
14 ibid., p173
15 A. Arblaster, op. cit., p267.
16 ibid., p265.
17 ibid., p264.
18 ibid., p265.
19 ibid., p278.
20 ibid., p278.
21 ibid., p279.
22 ibid., p280.
23 ibid., p279.
24 ibid., p279.
25 ibid., p280.
26 ibid., p278.
27 E. Hobsbawm, The Age of Capital (Mentor, 1975), p102.
28 Norman Wintrop ed., Liberal Democratic Theory and Its Critics, (Croom Helm, 1983) p33.
29 A. Arblaster, op. cit., p273.
30 Stewart Edwards ed., The Communards of Paris, 1871 (Cornell University Press, 1973) p31.
31 Karl Marx, The Civil War In France, (Progress Press, 1979) p53.
32 Stewart Edwards, op. cit., p34-39.
33 Stewart Edwards ed., The Communards of Paris, 1871 (Cornell University Press, 1973), p158.
34 Reprints in Labour History, The Miners' Next Step, (Pluto Press, 1973), p32.
35 N. Wintrop, op. Cit., p216.
36 G. Foote, The Labour Party's Political Thought, A History (Croom Helm, 1985),p28.
37 ibid., p28.
38 ibid., p31.
39 ibid., p29.
40 Norman Wintrop, op. cit., p216.
41 V.I. Lenin, What Is To Be Done (Progress, 1947), p78.
42 Norman Wintrop, op. cit., p312.
43 ibid., p312.
44 G. Foote, op. cit., p48.
45 R. McMullin, The Light on the Hill (Oxford University Press, Australia, 1991),p6.
46 Norman Wintrop, op. cit., p313.
47 ibid., p313.
48 ibid., p214.
49 R. McMullin, op. cit., p6.
50 ibid., p38.
51 ibid., p89-90.
51 ibid., p71.
52 ibid., p75.
53 ibid., p38.
54 K. Laybourn, The Rise of Labour, 1890 -1979 (Edward Arnold, 1988), p57.
55 G. Foote, op cit., p55.
56 G. Foote, op cit., p56.
57 K. Laybourn, op cit., p58.
58 G. Foote, op cit., p56.
59 K. Laybourn, op cit., p57.
60 R. McMullin, op. cit. p90.
61 Norman Wintrop, op. cit., p315.
62 ibid., p315.
63 ibid., p315.
64 R. McMullin, op cit., p1.
65 ibid., p251.
66 ibid., p251.
67 Noam Chomsky, Deterring Democracy (Hill and Wang, 1991)p367-8. See also references therein.
68 ibid., p367.
69 Noam Chomsky, 'The Struggle For Democracy In The New World Order', Low Intensity Democracy (Pluto Press, 1993), p81.
70 E. Herman and N. Chomsky, Manufacturing Consent (Pantheon, 1988).
71 Barry Gillis, op. cit., p47.
72 Economist, 11 June 1994, p54.
73 Economist, 15 July 1995, p24.
74 Economist, 15 July 1995 p25
75 Economist, 23 September 1995 p43
76 Economist, 29 April 1995, Survey p24.
77 Economist, 23 September 1995, p44.
78 Economist, April 29. 1995, Survey p10.
79 G.T. Kurian Ed., The New Book Of World Rankings, (Facts On File, 1991), Table 52.
80 Interview for Indian Business Report, BBC Asia, 1 August 1993.
81 see 'Reforms', Times of India, 28 September 1993.
82 p61, Economist, June 3, 1995.
83 see 'Reforms', Times of India, 28 September 1993.
84 see 'Historic FallÉ', The Australian, 5 March 1993.
85 Peter Roberts, Australian Financial Review, 23 March 1993.
86 'Keating sets reform agenda É', The Australian, 22 April 1993.
87 see in Noam Chomsky, 'The Struggle For Democracy In The New World Order', Low Intensity Democracy (Pluto Press, 1993), p87.
88 Economist, 25 November 1995, p31.
89 Economist, 25 September 1993, p66.
90 Economist, 25 September 1993, p66.
91 Economist, 7 October 1995, Survey, p5.
92 Economist, 4 June 1994, p51.
93 S. Padgett and W. Paterson, A History of Social Democracy in Post-war Europe (Longman, 1991), p189.
94 ibid., p189.
95 The Irish Times, 17 December 1994.
96 The Irish Times, 22 March 1994.
97 Financial Times, 8 August 8 1996.
98 Andre Gunder Frank in 'Market Democracy In An Undemocratic Market', Low Intensity Democracy (Pluto, 1993) p52.
99 ibid., p52.
100 For a recent account of the trends see also 'Survey of the World Economy', Economist, 7 Oct. 1995.
101 I. Roxborough, P. O'Brien, J Roddick, Chile: The State And Revolution, Macmillan Press 1977, p161.
102 Kevin Phillips, The Politics Of Rich And Poor (HarperPerennial, 1990), pp9-10.
103 ibid., p11
104 Economist, 11 May 1996, pp53-54.
105 E.B. Atkinson, Ed., Wealth, Income and Inequality (Oxford University Press, 1980), p75.
106 N Wintrop, ed., op. cit., p318.
107 ibid., p323.
108 ibid., p318.
109 S. Padgett, op. cit., p176.
110 Report UN's World Development Report, Independent On Sunday, 24 July 1996, p1.
111 S. Padgett, op. cit., p176.
112 S. Padgett, op. cit., pp167-170.
113 R. McMullin, p 431.
114 R. McMullin, p 432.
115 Economist, 25 August, 1995.
116 See most recent survey by ESRI in The Irish Times, 20 December, 1996
117 C.B. Macpherson, The Real World Of Democracy (Clarendon Press, 1967),pp1-2.
118 see A. Bauer, With The Peasants Of Aragon (Cienfuegos Press, 1982); G. Leval, Collectives In The Spanish Revolution (Freedom Press, 1975); S. Dolgoff, Workers Self-Management: Anarchist Collectives In The Spain, 1936-39 (Black Rose, 1990).
119 see E. Conlon, The Spanish Civil War: Anarchism In Action (WSM Pamphlets, 1993); P. Preston, A Concise History Of The Spanish Civil War (Fontana Press, 1996).
120 B. Bolloten, The Grand Camoflage (New York: Praeger, 1968).
Download and print out Parliament or democracy
1st published by the Workers Solidarity Movement
Πηγή: www.wsm.ie/c/anarchism-parliament-democracy
Δεν υπάρχουν σχόλια:
Δημοσίευση σχολίου