| TWO
INSIGHTS DON'T MAKE A THEORY - Michael Kidron (1977) |
| MDIP Introduction: This
text was written by Kidron in 1977, for the 100th issue of International Socialism, theoretical journal of
the SWP. In it he questioned the (then) contemporary
relevance and explanatory power of two core theories of
the IS (now SWP) - state capitalism and the permanent
arms economy. The latter of course he was himself
particularly associated with. The sweep and tone of his
criticism, not least his more or less open assertion
that Tony Cliff's state capitalism theory was based on a
simplistic syllogism ('they do X in the West, they do X
in Russia, so both must be capitalist') indicated the
reality - he had politically broken with the
organisation of which he had been a long-time leading
member. Kidron's disarming retrospective self-criticism
does not imply, of course, that he had come to the
conclusion that orthodox Trotskyist critics of the IS-SWP
tradition had possessed better theories; rather that
these two central ideas of the SWP needed overhauling by
new and better theory, not turning into simplistic
dogmas.
Some
of Kidron's own judgement's here now seem decidedly
dated and disproved by events - his view of the
evolution of 'state capitalism' and imperialism, and the
situation of the working class, have been rendered
redundant by the rise of neoliberalism. Still, it is a
fascinating document.
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IT IS THIRTY years since
Cliff set out the state capitalist analysis which has been the
main theoretical nutrient of International Socialism,
its forerunners and its heirs. In these thirty years
capitalism has remodelled itself so radically that only the
freest and most daring imagination of the time could have
sensed what was to emerge.
State capitalism and
private capitalism
There are no empires left. There are only independent states,
more or less powerful militarily and economically, with more
or less integrated and secure ruling classes. Although all of
them are constrained to a greater or lesser degree in their
freedom to act by the actions of the others and the actions of
their own workers, the most powerful of them usually manage to
implement policies which make them even more powerful.
These policies are of two
kinds: labour policies at home designed to extract as much
product from the workers for as little expenditure as
possible; and foreign and international trade policies
designed to gain from abroad a share of the unpaid output of
other workforces or to prevent the loss abroad of domestic
unpaid output. In pursuing both policies the people who run
the state can be seen to be fulfilling the traditional
capitalist functions of extracting and centralizing surplus
value. But in both respects there’s an important new element
which the capitalist in the private capitalist system seldom
needed to take into account.
In private capitalism labour
policy was simple: as a capitalist you paid as little as you
needed to and got as much as you could from as many workers as
you could afford to employ given the size of your total
capital and its distribution amongst wage and other costs. The
capitalist had no further responsibility. If unemployment was
high and wages could be driven below subsistence, that was
fine – the private capitalist bad no need to worry if, as a
result, the current stock of labour power was not fully
renewed from day to day or not fully reproduced from
generation to generation. There was always more to be found,
for in private capitalism labour power could easily be shunted
in and out as part of the interchange between the system –
the profit-seeking market economy – and the great outside
– the imperfectly monetized, semi-subsistence rural economy
of direct agricultural consumption in which that market
economy developed; and it could be done at very little cost to
capital.
There is no great outside any
longer. Although one or another state capital might be able to
take in and expel labour cheaply whenever necessary, the cost
of producing and reproducing that labour is borne somewhere
within the system. Even fairly weak countries now deploy
arrays of instruments designed to maintain or augment the
existing stock of labour power – minimum wage legislation,
unemployment insurance, educational, health, housing and
family welfare services. A single capital can avoid paying
fully for these instruments, but only by shifting the cost on
to other capitals – there is no non-capitalist society to
ravage for human resources.
In its external policy too a
state capital has to take on a wider range of functions than
any but the most exceptionally placed private capital in the
past. Then as now capitals tried to outbid one another in
gaining legal or de facto monopolies: they used force and
fraud, ganged up against each other and broke solemn
agreements. But it was only in the rarest of rare
circumstances that a capital in the era of private capitalism
could unilaterally alter the conditions of struggle with other
capitals. by bending to its advantage the legal, currency or
military arrangements which governed the market. Normally it
had to take for granted that it was to operate under the same
general constraints as its competitors and confine itself to
competing on price and availability.
A state capital operates
under very different conditions. There is no system-wide legal
code governing the relations between such capitals other than
that agreed between them. There is no common currency always
acceptable to them all. And there is no power on earth that
could hold them to such arrangements even if they existed. On
the contrary, a state capital controls many of the instruments
through which its relation with other capitals are mediated.
Paradoxically, it faces for that reason a far less certain
world than did its private capitalist predecessor.
These differences in both the
internal and external policies of capitals are underpinned by
the different parts the state plays in the two systems. In
private capitalism, the state almost always presided over the
fortunes of a number of capitals: it policed society in their general
interest, suppressing workers, oppressing peasants; it
defended them against external attacks or promoted their
interests through such attacks, in principle, and often enough
in practice, it also affirmed the general interest of
the capitals in its jurisdiction against the particular
interests of each of them by setting out norms of behaviour
and adjudicating between them in cases of conflict. In private
capitalism the idea of a neutral state had some purchase in
reality: in order to fulfill all the functions assigned to it,
it needed to enjoy some independence of individual capitals.
There is no such independence
in state capitalism. The state presides over the fortunes of a
single national capital. While many of its former
functions remain – the state still suppresses workers and,
in countries where they exist, oppresses the peasants – and
while many new functions have accrued to it, particularly in
the sphere of direct involvement in productive activity,
including the renewal of labour power, it does not represent
the general interests of capital in relation to an individual
capital, but the interests of the single capital in relation
to all other capitals and classes. That many of its actions
further the general capitalist interest goes without saving;
hut it adopts them only to further its own interest. The state
in state capitalism cannot be an authority above the capitals,
it cannot adjudicate between them or represent the interests
of capitalism as a whole. The state as we understood it in
private capitalism has been fragmented and the fragments
absorbed by individual capitals.
The labour market in state
capitalism
State capitalism approaches the pure model of capitalism more
closely than private capitalism ever could or did: within it
capital is king because capitals are kings and there are no
others. Capitals have no constraints on their behaviour and
decisions other than those they impose on themselves as a
result of their encounters with each other and with other
classes, there are still many non- or imperfectly capitalist
social formations within the territories occupied by the weak
state capitals: but there is no non-capitalist space between
them.
One clear implication is that
the growth of the state capitalist system depends wholly on
its internal resources, on the size of the productive working
class and on the rate of surplus extraction from it. While
individual capitals can grow by absorbing other capitals, the
system as a whole cannot – there is no place in it for the
primitive or original accumulation which fuelled the growth of
private capitalism. There is no non-capitalist society to rob.
There is also no external
market that is not some capital’s domestic market; no
peasant sector external to capitalism forcibly waiting to be
integrated into the capitalist market economy; no "third
persons". In private capitalism, individual capitals
carved a huge market for themselves out of the ruin of
non-capitalist modes of production. More often than not they
did so under a system of colonial control or some equivalent
system of monopoly and exclusion. Today, the ruin of
non-capitalist societies takes place on a relatively smaller
scale in the protected backyards of individual state capitals
– in the Brazils, the Indias or the Chinas.
The result is that the
expansion of a capital’s sales in the series of domestic
markets which make up the world market has to be negotiated
between states. Very often the bargains they strike relate not
to the entry of goods as such but to the conditions for
undertaking production in each others’ territory, by means
of the misleadingly named multinational corporation.
The world market too is more
real than ever before. For most of the private capitalist
period it was divided into protected spheres in each of which
a group of metropolitan capitalists monopolized the forced,
unequal exchange of functionally different products between
themselves and their country’s colonies. The world market
was then more a concept or an aspiration than a reality. Now,
although there appears to be far more regulation and
inhibition of trade, the absence of a non-capitalist sphere
ensures that there be a real world market, even if still not
fully formed.
The only market of which this
is not true, which on the contrary tends to disappear the
closer reality approaches the model of state capitalism, is
the labour market; in private capitalism, although the
workers’ freedom to hawk their ability to work was often
curtailed by influx and migration controls, by legal
attachments to jobs, to dwellings and to creditors, they were
free in principle, and often free enough in practice for the
principle to carry some weight, to move between capitals in
search of a buyer or a higher bid for their labour power. In
private capitalism, capitals bought and used the ability to
work; they did not produce it or invest in its production.
That was the concern of the individual worker or the
workers’ family within the system, or of the peasant
community outside. However limited their freedom, workers in
private capitalism were free outside the workplace.
In state capitalism workers
can no longer hawk their ability to work between competing
capitals; from their point of view, all employers in a
country, whether Britain, the US or Russia, work to common
guidelines on pay and conditions, are simply agencies of a
single capital. Shifting from one to another can improve
one’s circumstances – even within a single plant or
office, some jobs are better than others – it can’t change
the terms of the bargain. Even international migration in
search of jobs is not the exchange between capital and workers
that it appears to be: the interstate treaties that govern
such traffic fix it firmly within the larger pattern of
commercial bargaining between state capitals. What is kit of
that exchange is between the modern and peasant sectors within
the weak, imperfectly developed, peripheral state capitals,
and in the labour black-market sustained by illegal migration
from them to the central state-capitals.
If labour power is to remain
in continued supply in state capitalism, capital must assume
responsibility for its production and maintenance. However
reluctantly or inadequately, each capital must invest in a
stock of labour power from which it then taps a service,
rather than buying a service from free stock as was the
position in private capitalism. It is in order to conserve
this stock of labour power that state capitals must maintain
their panoplies of welfare services: for the same reason they
must pay the unemployed. And since they can no longer cast out
their workers, they need to employ other means to tame them
– control over their leisure time and activities, positive
structuring of their attitudes. In state capitalism workers
are no longer free in principle, even in the crippled sense
such freedom was understood in private capitalism.
Naturally many of the
concepts that tic in with the existence of a labour market in
private capitalism cannot survive its atrophy. One of them is
the reserve army of labour seen as a motley of would-be
workers who are paid only when hired, which contracts and
expands in sympathy with the rate of accumulation within the
system. hi state capitalism, there is, in principle, no
reserve army of labour and even in practice. in the
imperfectly developed state capitalist system we’re living
in. where workers are paid morn or ate paid less according to
whether they are employed or unemployed, according to whether
they are men or women, working under direct supervision or at
home, they are almost always paid.
Another concept that cannot
survive unchanged the attenuation of the labour market is that
of the working class. In private capitalism the working class
defined itself primarily through being engaged in those
activities which were a sphere of accumulation for capital.
There were important activities in which capital did not
engage notably the production of many foods and raw materials
and, most important of all, the production of the ability to
work. In state capitalism there it by definition a perfect fit
between capital’s sphere of activity and social activity.
All production including the production of the ability to work
is production by capital and everyone engaged in that
production is a member of the working class. They may be
productive in the sense that what they do is necessary for
further production, or they may be unproductive, but they all
relate to capital, whether they work in a factory, a
government office, a school or in the home. Not only can the
working class be expected to be larger in state capitalism,
even in an imperfectly developed state capitalism, it can be
expected also to form a significantly larger proportion of the
total population and to be very much more diverse.
The change in the composition
of the working class and in its relation to capital must have
profound effects on every aspect of working class life. Trade
unionism, political activity and organisation, revolution
itself is different as between the two phases of capitalism.
If in the private capitalist system workers safeguarded a
modicum of independence and strength in their relations with
each capital by forming unions that spanned several capitals,
in state capitalism the task is very much harder since the
only equivalents are international organisations which must
inevitably be political. Within each state capital, workers
newly brought into large employing units do join trade
union-type organisations, only to find that the organisations
face their members on behalf of the capital rather than the
other way round, and belie the adversary role they played in
private capitalism. Even the fast growing white collar
unionism is trade unions as we know them increasingly reflect
the interests of a privileged sector of the working class –
the native, male dominated, skilled, white, manual workers who
formed the core of the working class in private capitalism,
who created the independent unions then and who now use them,
largely unchanged, to buttress their own relative position
within the larger, more diverse working class of state
capitalism. Even the fast growing white collar unionism is
growing within the patterns of behaviour and attitudes set by
the traditional movement.
If trade unions neither
reflect the extent and composition of the working class nor
fulfill their earlier role as independent representatives of
working class interests, a political strategy structured
around them is bound to fail. Yet that is what so much of our
practice does: the issues we stress in our propaganda and
agitation are the narrow defensive issues selected by the
elite of the trade union world to which we add a gloss of
revolutionary interpretation, not the problems created for the
whole of the working class by its suicidal bondage to state
capitalism. The attitudes we foster, of principled opposition
to the objectives and object of labour, make sense in a
society in which workers enjoy, however miserably, an
existence, however temporary and interrupted, apart from
capital. They do not make as much sense in state capitalism
from which workers cannot escape at all. In many spheres, and
not only in the vast number of service’ jobs relating to the
production and maintenance of labour power-aggressive
alienation, a posture of principled irresponsibility with
regard to the ends and means of the work given to us, can no
longer be effective as a psychological defence nor, therefore,
as trade unionism.
State capitalism
I have presented the state capitalist world system as if it
were a finished, functioning, pure system, and have avoided
all the obvious problems of the transition from private
capitalism, as well as all the complexities of its day-to-day
working. I’ve made no mention of the relations between the
private and public sectors within the western state capitals
or between multinational corporations and state capitals.
I’ve not touched on the prospect for fuller integration of
the eastern bloc countries with the world market, or the fate
of the weak, backward state capitals on the periphery of the
world system. Are state capitals tied immutably to the
national frontiers inherited from private capitalism, or can
they merge, go bankrupt and behave like the smaller capitals
of that epoch? I’ve not asked this or any of the many
related questions. And, most important, rye not touched on the
modes of political action and organisation appropriate to
revolutionary socialists in state capitalism. There is a lot
missing even in the abstract model I’ve pictured. But there
is enough in it to suggest that the analysis of modern
capitalism as a state capitalist system can be a powerful
guide to political activity. Very, very few readers of this
journal are familiar with the analysis. Although the
International Socialists and their forerunners in the Socialist
Review group were known as the "state caps" for
many years, and presented a "state capitalist"
analysis as their central, distinguishing tenet, our
collective expressed view has not kept pace with the formation
and consolidation of state capitalism as a world system; and
the analytical variant of "state capitalism" current
in the organisation remains locked into the limited partial
insight of its original formulation.
The argument was and remains
simple. If it could be shown that the political, social and
economic arrangements in the eastern bloc countries were
easily understandable in the terms marxists apply to
capitalism in general. and conversely. if it could be shown
that their internal regimes could not, by any stretch of the
imagination, be thought of in the vastly different terms we
use to conceive socialist society or even a society in
transition to socialism, those countries could legitimately be
called state capitalist. Cliff. the prime author of the
analysis1 was down to earth in his method. He
brought a vast array of facts into play. He described in
minute detail the lack of control by workers over their lives,
in production and out, in the "state capitalist"
countries. He summarized carefully Marx and Engels’ views on
socialism and the economy of the workers’ state. He analyzed
the marxist law of value and its application to the eastern
bloc. He took Trotsky’s contorted view of Russia as a
"degenerated workers’ state" to task and showed
how heterodox it was from a marxist point of view. Cliff did
more than explain: he powerfully reasserted the prime
inspiration of the socialist movement – that there can be no
civilised future unless workers fight their way into becoming
the subject of history.
Cliff’s variant of state
capitalism was a political tour de force in its day. If now it
is less stunning, this is panty because its revelations and
approach have become absorbed into the shared culture of the
revolutionary left. Partly also it is because the analysis
left out a great deal of what has since become necessary for a
realistic view of the social world Above all it ignored the
mutual conditioning of what we then termed the "state
capitalist" and "orthodox capitalist" countries
as pans of a single ongoing system.
The thrust of Cliff’s
argument was to show that Russia was not an anomaly in a
capitalist world; he did not try to explain that world. Nor
could he, for the syllogism which underlay his method –
such-and-such occurs in the eastern bloc; the same
such-and-such occurs in the West; the West is capitalist;
therefore the East is capitalist – cannot do so. It can
compare one part of a whole with another, it cannot analyse
the whole nor can it infuse the formal definitions it rests on
with a sense of history and change.
There was very little
development of Cliff’s original analysis. He himself
extended its coverage to Eastern Europe2 and later
to China,3 applying the same method for the same
purpose. but with less blinding results since the major
conclusions had already been reached. Beyond these there was
only one other publication of note: Chris Harman’s Bureaucracy
and Revolution in Eastern Europe4 whose
blow-by-blow account of the Hungarian Revolution of 1956 can
stand comparison with the best in historical writing, but
which represents something of a regression in theory for, in
Harman, even more than in Cliff, the "state
capitalist" countries are treated as unique and
ghettoized analytically.
In its day, to depict Russia
and the eastern bloc countries as state capitalist was a
profound insight, of critical importance to IS and to the
revolutionary left at large. But the analysis was never a
general theory. It was incapable of incorporating "state
capitalism" into a broader picture of capitalism as it
was evolving, incapable too of itself evolving to take account
of the changing structure of capitalism.
The second string
Something very similar can be said of IS’s second major
tenet for which I bear as much responsibility as anyone. To
survive the high boom of the fifties and early sixties even as
a small revolutionary group with modest aims and few
pretensions, we needed to explain that boom, to know whether
it would ever lose its momentum. The explanation was presented
as the theory of the permanent arms economy.
The theory did not emerge
fully-fledged. Its origins were in a heavily Keynesian view of
the post-second-world-war economic order set out in 1944 by
"Walter J. Oakes" in the American socialist journal The
New International5 and later elaborated by
"T.N. Vance" in the same journal in 1950-51.6
It was brought over with its Keynesianism more or less intact
in an article by Cliff in Socialist Review, May 1957,7
and only later underwent a marxist conversion. Even then it
was never elaborated in any detail: a couple of articles in
IS,8 one of which is repeated as a chapter in a
book,9 a few further passing observations in other
articles some of which were collected in another book,10
and that’s all. Not much for an analysis that was meant to
encompass the world order and explain its innermost drives.
The permanent arms economy
As a first stab the analysis was not bad. It rests on the most
fundamental characteristics of capital: its drive to grow, the
way its structure changes as a result of growth, the way this
changing structure piles up limitations on further growth,
which, in the absence of some countervailing mechanisms,
reveal themselves through a decline in the general rate of
profit. It concludes that the most effective countervailing
mechanism is the waste occasioned by military spending, partly
because the ratio of non-labour to labour resources absorbed
by such spending is higher than in most other forms of waste
and higher than in the economy overall; and partly because
military spending is imperative-it must spread throughout the
system.
The analysis was questioned
in a number of respects both inside IS and out. There was a
confused debate in the IS Bulletin in the Spring and
Summer of 1972, a series of intemperate attacks by some of the
principals in that debate once they had constituted an
independent political grouping and some censorious chalking of
blackboards from new entrants into academe via the Communist
Party. The permanent arms economy thesis was accused of being
empirically wrong, theoretically heterodox, and loose in
logic.
This is not the place to take
up the criticisms point by point or to pull out the sense from
the spleen. As I understand it the key point at issue is
whether it is or is not legitimate to segregate a waste sector
from a productive sector and to impute to the latter, and to
it alone, the dynamics of the capitalist system. If it is
legitimate, a shift of resources of a certain mix from the
productive to the waste sector could, in principle, prevent
the value-structure of capital in the productive sector from
changing, or could change it in a benign direction, and so
maintain or even augment the rate of profit.
We implied it was legitimate
separation. We understood Marx’s Capital, which we
took as our starting point, to be a model of a purely
productive system. Besides our usage appeared to reflect in
theory what had been happening in fact since the Second World
War. Our critics implied that it was not legitimate, that
Marx’s model incorporated waste as an essential element and
that any explanation based on such a usage could not stick.
Characteristically, we did not plunge into lengthy exegeses of
the holy texts; equally characteristically, they did not, and
still do not, come up with a better explanation for the long
boom.
I still think we were right
about the general thrust of Marx’s argument. But also, I
think now that the model of capitalism we were using was the
wrong one – we were working with a model of private
capitalism in a period of consolidating state capitalism. What
we needed was a model of state capitalism in the sense
proposed above. A private capitalist system assumes, let me
repeat, the continued, although declining, existence of
non-capitalist modes of production. In such a system the
tendency is for productive spending or accumulation to be
undertaken by capitals, and waste, albeit necessary, spending
to be undertaken by the non-capitalist society, either
directly or through the state. While the Lancashire millowners
of the nineteenth century invested their all and paid no
taxes, the Indian peasants they were ruining raised the
tribute that maintained not only the British colonial
administration in most of South Asia, not only the military
operations that delimited the boundaries of Empire in Asia,
but a substantial part of Whitehall as well.
In considering such a system
it makes sense to segregate the two sectors, a productive
capitalist sector and a non-productive (from capital’s point
of view), non-capitalist sector. Equally it makes sense
analytically to treat a transfer of resources from the one to
the other as a diminution in surplus value, which might, if
the material composition of that transfer is right, reduce the
organic composition of capital in the only sector in which
capital exists, the productive sector, and so keep up the
rate of profit.
But the separation makes
little sense in state capitalism. In the pure model of state
capitalism, non-capitalist modes of production do not exist;
in it, non-productive expenditure essential to the system has
to be borne by capitals directly. Although the distinction
between productive and waste activity remains and becomes
increasingly clear as capital itself agonises over the
allocation of resources between them, there is no way in which
the growth of the productive sector – a growth governed in
private capitalism by the rate of profit – can any longer be
isolated from the unproductive expenditure undertaken in the
system. It is no longer reasonable to treat a transfer of
resources from the one to the other as a diminution in
surplus; such a transfer needs to be treated as an increase in
constant capital, which amounts to saying that capital’s
value structure (the organic composition of capital in the era
of private capitalism) becomes heavier (rises) and the rate of
growth of the system (the rate of profit) falls.
On this reading of the
economic effects of arms expenditure, and assuming the
foundations of the state capitalist system to have been
effectively laid during the Second World War, it is hard to
sustain the view that it was the permanent arms economy that
fuelled the long boom. On the contrary, such expenditure must
have worked towards stagnation. And if in reality heavy
spending on arms coincided with an unprecedented expansion of
capital, it can only be because the effects of arms vending
were overpowered by the effects of something much more
fundamental – the changes that attended the consolidation of
the state capitalist system; changes that redirected vast
working populations from barely-productive work in agriculture
towards highly productive occupations in industry; changes
that reduced the amount of social capital required for the new
workers and so sharply lightened the capital structure
throughout the world; changes that increased the technical
division of labour sharply arid reduced duplication of effort
as capitals themselves grew to national proportions. On this
reading it was despite the arms economy, not because of it,
that the first years of state capitalism were years of release
of the productive forces and of expansion.
State capitalism as a system
is written into the horoscope of the very first
proto-capitalists. It is the outcome of parasitic
growth, the growth of some capitals at the expense of others
(the centralization of capital). It implies the arming of each
capital, the dispersal of authority throughout the system, a
permanent arms economy which ultimately saps the sources of progressive
growth (through accumulation) at the same time as it makes
parasitic growth more dangerous. State capitalism is a
permanent arms economy; a capitalist arms economy can only be
a state capitalist one.
In retrospect there were a
disturbing number of loose ends left by IS’s originally
illuminating but unconnected insights into contemporary
capitalism. They need not remain loose ends. They can be woven
into a general theory; and they need to be. For without theory
no organisation can do more than ride the tides of working
class consciousness, which might be exhilarating as sport but
is irrelevant as revolutionary politics.
London May 1977
Notes
1. Notably in The Nature of Stalinist Russia,
published in duplicated form as an internal document of the
Revolutionary Communist Party in June 1948, and subsequently
published as Stalinist Russia, a marxist analysis,
London: Michael Kidron 1955, Russia, a marxist analysis,
London: International Socialism, n.d. (1964) and State
Capitalism in Russia, London: Pluto Press, 1974.
2. Notably in On the Class Nature of the
"People’s Democracies", London, 1951
(duplicated), reprinted in The Origins of the International
Socialists, London: Pluto Press, 1971; and Ygael
Gluckstein, Stalin’s Satellites In Europe, London:
George Allen & Unwin, 1952.
3. Ygael Gluckstein, Mao’s China, London: George
Allen & Unwin, 1957.
4. London: Pluto Press 1974.
5. "Towards a Permanent War Economy", The New
International, February 1944.
6. "After Korea – What?", The New
International, November-December 1950; and "The
Permanent War Economy", a six-part series in The New
International, January-February to November-December 1951.
7. "Perspectives of the Permanent War Economy", Socialist
Review, May 1957.
8. Michael Kidron, "Reform and Revolution", International
Socialism 7, Winter 1961; and "A Permanent Arms
Economy", International Socialism 28, Spring 1967.
9. Michael Kidron, Western Capitalism Since the War,
London: Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1968; revised edition,
Penguin 1970.
10. Michael Kidron, Capitalism and Theory, London:
Pluto Press, 1974.
First published in International Socialism 100, July
1977. From the 'What Next' website.
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