Radicals in a Democratic Society

Partially in response to Professor Malekzadeh’s post,

Part of the question Professor Malekzadeh describes is simply that the democratic reforms enacted by Allende were too moderate. But moderate compared to what? Election results show that Allende’s reforms were roughly in the center of Chilean political thought, and, therefore, from a political theory perspective, Allende was acting approximately how he should be in a Democatic society. To engage in immediate radical communist reforms would be to violate the will of the people.

Is the problem that we haven’t seen Communist reforms accomplished through Democratic means elsewhere? We talk a lot in class about how small a percent of a population it takes to enact a revolution. Communism is, after all, an inherently radical ideology. It seems likely that we cannot ever find a situation where a majority of the electorate would support (the same) radical reforms.

Part of the problem here is that Democracy, especially, by design, constitutional Democracies, are designed to be inherently moderate methods of enacting change, while Revolutions are of course inherently radical. It seems possible that Democracy can very rarely successfully enact a radical policy such as Communism.

Of course there is also a conflict between a hypothetical communist state and the present institutions in a Democratic society. Part of communist ideology is the focus on Communism as an “End of History”. To continue operating Democratically, Allende would have had to not only run continual elections but also to prepare for the eventuality that a communist regime might leave power, and to preserve institutions accordingly. It’s possible that this is simply incompatible with Communism.

The Utopian Accusation

I will focus my response continuing the discussion on the relationship between strategy and tactics, in regards to Allende and otherwise.

In the revolutions we have studied, it seems as though practical considerations often induce tension into the relationship between tactics and strategy.  Generally, a revolutionary force begins as a small fraction of a population without the capacity to unilaterally implement its strategy. In some cases, the violent power of these small groups grows without compromise to the point that they can overthrow the state and implement their original strategy, but I would say these cases are rare. In many violent revolutions, original groups often employ tactics to increase broader support or create bridges in revolutionary groups that involve making concessions and in some ways changing their broader objective (read: strategy). In nonviolent revolutions, these concessions are even more common as the revolutionary force has to win over an even larger section of the population through its ideas.

This brings us to Allende. As was highlighted in his discourse with Debray, The concern of conciliation and ultimate obscuring of the original strategy is of high concern of many Marxists looking for their conception of a total revolution. The reliance on electoral means almost necessitates this kind of bargaining, unless the electoral population is unilaterally behind your cause and can champion it democratically.  To some extent, Allende tries to claim that this is actually true in his case as all of his powers and leanings are ostensibly derived from the workers (although he contradicts himself later by postulating that they may need guidance).  In reality, I think these concerns are valid, and in reality, Allende did end up becoming pulled into more center through participation in the electoral system, having to negotiate with other branches of government not under his control.

I think a salient argument aside from whether this shift to the center happened or not or is endemic of non-violent electoral participation is whether this shift is an inherently negative one. To push a strategy that is not supported democratically does not seem to be an adequate end goal of a revolution. The main issue, of course, is that often times electoral politics is simply not democratic, and popular ideas are not manifested in executives and legislatures. In the American left movement, this is one of the most widely debated issues. To some, participation in the current political system necessitates operating under certain assumptions and making certain concessions to mainstream Democrat values that some are unwilling to make (the necessity of these concessions are only exacerbated by the first-past-the-post electoral system and the active role the DNC plays in selecting centrist primary candidates). The other wing of the left who like to view themselves as more pragmatic often accuses the more uncompromising side as indulging in a kind of utopian fantasy (to perhaps put it a bit harshly).  They choose to highlight the fact that given the relative strength of American democracy, it seems incredibly difficult to influence the state in meaningful extra-electoral ways. In my mind, the kind of non-violent, electoral focused work presents the most effective single path to take in a functioning democracy with a powerful state. Despite accusations of incrementalism from my revolutionary-minded comrades, I still see the current tactic of conciliation as a smaller step to more meaningful strategy of left-wing reform.

Defining a civil war

One of the recurring themes through this class is how hard it is to define a revolution. This difficulty is not only because there is a general lack of agreement, but also because the definitions we do somewhat agree on are based less on objective political facts and more on impossible-to-see forces or attitudes. Most of the definitions put on the board on Wednesday involve some sort of subjective factor. To call something a revolution is not only a descriptive label but also a judgement.

In comparison, civil wars can be defined purely by looking at the political facts of a situation. An operative definition might look something like this: “A prolonged war fought between two entities which were previously one state”. While one might disagree about some of the edges of this definition, there doesn’t seem to be a need to expand this definition to include more subjective elements. That is, it’s a comparatively boring definition.

The contradiction is that, in some sense, civil wars and (separatist) revolutions seem to be so interconnected. Look at the example in class of the American Civil War. We define the American Civil War in particular, and, in general, a section of a country attempting to secede as a civil war (provided that there is in fact a prolonged war).  And we label a successful break as a revolution. Then is the only difference between these two concepts the success or failure of a war. How do we reconcile this with the greater significant we place on the definition of a revolution.

What’s in a name?

What distinguishes a civil war from a revolution? My intuitive reaction to this question was to ask another one, why do we categorize these events separately? This question is far from rhetorical, as it is essentially the role of political scientists to describe an distinguish political objects from one another in a way that enhances our understanding of said objects, and more broadly, how their interactions form the world as we know it. The objective results of these phenomena, revolutions and civil wars, occur regardless of how we describe them, but I believe distinguishing them leads to meaningful insight into why each of them happen or are successful.

I think the largest and simplest difference between the two follows a consensus reached by at least some of the class in our discussion, that in some capacity revolutions carry with them genuine ideological motivation. This contrasts them from some civil wars in the sense that civil wars can be fought between two or more groups for control over the authority of region. It would be more accurate to say that these battles are fought between factions competing for resources and power as opposed to being fought between competing ideologies. Much thought has been put into the specific ideologies behind revolutions, and the success of a revolutionary effort has is often heavily ascribed to the intricacies the ideas that motivate it (for example, in the capacity of certain ideas to resonate with important demographics within a state’s population). This same analysis is less effective in understanding the success of civil wars that are probably better described in simple “realist” capacity terms.

It is worth noting that many civil wars fought by groups that do not end up resulting in a state’s radical ideological shift (as opposed to a figurative “musical chairs” of who is in power) are certainly self-characterized by the groups as a revolution during and after the conflict. This kind revolutionary framing, which we discussed often in terms of post-colonial Haiti, helps justify and encourage the actions of actors in combat as well as helps to create a more favorable dominant (or hidden) narrative. In assessing how an event should be categorized after it has occurred, I think it is important not to take the “revolutionary” factions narrative at face value, and assess the actual change that occurs after the group has taken power or even its genuine willingness to attempt such changes. In this framework, I think many successful civil wars result in ultimately failed revolutions.

The (fairly unrestricted) Sound of Music.

Music’s accessibility as an art form, both in listening and performing, have made it historically one of, if not the most culturally and politically impactful art forms in the modern United States. Paired with the fact that the major music labels were generally owned by incredibly wealthy capitalist conglomerates like Sony or Warner Brothers, one might worry about the ability of the individuals running these corporation’s ability to reinforce a self-benefiting notion of “common sense” and manipulate class consciousness through curating the kinds of ideas that can be expressed and distributed en masse through song. I would contend that this worry is largely misplaced, especially in the 21st century.

In 1979, Brittish punk band The Clash released their seminal work London Calling a double LP that attacked capitalist consumer culture, western imperialism on the massive record label Columbia. Although the ideas disseminated in the album certainly ran contrary to those of the label and Sony, one of the world’s largest companies who bought the label years later, they had no mind to censor the message. That is because the diffuse effects of that album’s ability to shift the collective consciousness away from participating in consumer culture were far less significant to the label than the fact that they were going to be making money hand over fist.  London Calling was a smash hit, going platinum in multiple countries. These executives were more than happy to indirectly stir up working class passions if it meant that these passions could be converted into gold.  One could posit that the ideas expressed in London Calling are radical, but not truly outside of a very liberal definition of “common sense”, but there are plenty of successful bands that openly support anarcho-syndicalism backed by independent labels such as Godspeed You! Black Emporer, which just played a packed show in North Adams two days ago.  Hell, the complete recorded works of world famous murderer Charles Manson have been published by various labels and are available on Spotify.

These examples show how the industry of music cannot really stop radical or anti “common sense” ideas from being heard, but (and this is more in line with the actual prompt) it can certainly actively promote certain artists over others that align more with “common sense views”. Often referred to scornfully as “industry plants” by musicians an fans who seemingly prize their own sense of independent artistry, these artists often (but not always) align themselves strongly with whatever the current state of common sense is. Conservative and reactionary music has become successively less “cool” after the liberals essentially won the culture war (which could change soon but who knows), but the broader notions of individualism, “pulling oneself up by the bootstraps”, and certainly gender roles and heterosexuality that all have a had a role in the American “common sense” are certainly promoted widely throughout genre’s such as country and pop. However, these notions are under constant, albeit less well marketed, attacks by modern musicians who see themselves, despite their comerical sucess, as perpetual outsiders to the system and “common sense”.