Objectivity and Liberal Scholarship
by Noam Chomsky
If it is plausible that ideology will in general serve as a mask for self-interest,
then it is a natural presumption that intellectuals, in interpreting history
or formulating policy, will tend to adopt an elitist position, condemning
popular movements and mass participation in decision-making, and emphasizing
rather the necessity for supervision by those who possess the knowledge and
understanding that is required (so they claim) to manage society and control
social change. This is hardly a novel thought. One major element in the anarchist
critique of Marxism a century ago was the prediction that, as Bakunin formulated
it:
"According to the theory of Mr. Marx, the people not only must not destroy
[the state] but must strengthen it and place it at the complete disposal
of their benefactors, guardians, and teachers-the leaders of the Communist
party, namely Mr. Marx and his friends, who will proceed to liberate humankind
in their own Way. They will concentrate the reins of government in a strong
hand, because the ignorant people require an exceedingly firm guardianship;
they Will establish a single state bank, concentrating in its hands all commercial,
industrial, agricultural and even scientific production, and then divide
the masses into two armies-industrial and agricultural-under the direct command
of the state engineers, who will constitute a new privileged scientific-political
estate." [1]
One cannot fail to be struck by the parallel between this prediction and
that of Daniel Bell - the prediction that in the new postindustrial society,
not only the best talents, but eventually the entire complex of social prestige
and social status, will be rooted in the intellectual and scientific communities
Pursuing the parallel for a moment, it might be asked whether the left-wing
critique of Leninist elitism can be applied, under very different conditions,
to the liberal ideology of the intellectual elite that aspires to a dominant
role in managing the Welfare state. [2]
Rosa Luxemburg, in 1918, argued that Bolshevik elitism would lead to state
of society in which the bureaucracy alone would remain an active element
in social life - though now it would be the "Red bureaucracy" of that state
socialism that Bakunin had long before described as "the most vile and terrible
lie that our century has created." [3] A true social revolution
requires a "spiritual transformation in the masses degraded by centuries
of bourgeois class rule"; [4] "it is only by extirpating the habits of obedience
and servility to the last root that the Working class can acquire the understanding
of a new form of discipline, self-discipline arising from free consent."
[5] Writing in 1904, she predicted that Lenin's organizational concepts
would "enslave a young labor movement to an intellectual elite hungry for
power ... and turn it into an automaton manipulated by a Central Committee."
[6] In the Bolshevik elitist doctrine of 1918, she saw a disparagement of
the creative, spontaneous, self-correcting force of mass action, which alone,
she argued, could solve the thousand problems of social reconstruction and
produce the spiritual transformation that is the essence of a true social
revolution. As Bolshevik practice hardened into dogma, the fear of popular
initiative and spontaneous mass action, not under the direction and control
of the properly designated hated vanguard, became a dominant element of so-called
"Communist" ideology.
Antagonism to mass movements and to social change that escapes the control
of privileged elites is also a prominent feature of contemporary liberal
ideology. [7] I would like to investigate how, in one rather crucial case,
this particular bias in American liberal ideology can be detected even in
the interpretation of events of the past in which American involvement was
rather slight, and in historical work of very high caliber.
In 1966, the American Historical Association gave its biennial award for
the most outstanding work on European history to Gabriel Jackson, for his
study of Spain in the 1930s. [8] There is no question that of the dozens
of books on this period, Jackson's is among the best, and I do not doubt
that the award was well deserved. The Spanish Civil War is one of the crucial
events of modern history, and one of the most extensively studied as well.
In it, we find the interplay of forces and ideas that have dominated European
history since the industrial revolution. What is more, the relationship of
Spain to the great powers was in many respects like that of the countries
of what is now called the Third World. In some ways, then, the events of
the Spanish Civil War give a foretaste of what the future may hold, as Third
World revolutions uproot traditional societies, threaten imperial dominance,
exacerbate great-power rivalries, and bring the world perilously close to
a war which, if not averted, will surely be the final catastrophe of modern
history. My reason for wanting to investigate an outstanding liberal analysis
of the Spanish Civil War is therefore twofold: first, because of the intrinsic
interest of these events; and second, because of the insight that this analysis
may provide with respect to the underlying elitist bias which I believe to
be at the root of the phenomenon of counterrevolutionary subordination.
In his study of the Spanish Republic, Jackson makes no attempt to hide his
own commitment in favor of liberal democracy, as represented by such figures
as Azaña, Casares Quiroga, Martinez Barrio, [9] and the other "responsible
national leaders." In taking this position, he speaks for much of liberal
scholarship; it is fair to say that figures similar to those just mentioned
would be supported by American liberals, were this possible, in Latin America,
Asia, or Africa. Furthermore, Jackson makes little attempt to disguise his
antipathy toward the forces of popular revolution in Spain, or their goals.
It is no criticism of Jackson's study that his point of view and sympathies
are expressed with such clarity. On the contrary, the value of this work
as an interpretation of historical events is enhanced by the fact that the
author's commitments are made so clear and explicit. But I think it can be
shown that Jackson's account of the popular revolution that took place in
Spain is misleading and in part quite unfair, and that the failure of objectivity
it reveals is highly significant in that it is characteristic of the attitude
taken by liberal (and Communist) intellectuals toward revolutionary movements
that are largely spontaneous and only loosely organized, while rooted in
deeply felt needs and ideals of dispossessed masses. It is a convention
of scholarship that the use of such terms as those of the preceding phrase
demonstrates naiveté and muddle-headed sentimentality. The convention,
however, is supported by ideological conviction rather than history or investigation
of the phenomena of social life. This conviction is, I think, belied by such
events as the revolution that swept over much of Spain in the summer of 1936.
The circumstances of Spain in the 1930s are not duplicated elsewhere in the
underdeveloped world today, to be sure. Nevertheless, the limited information
that we have about popular movements in Asia, specifically, suggests certain
similar features that deserve much more serious and sympathetic study than
they have so far received. [10] Inadequate information makes it hazardous
to try to develop any such parallel, but I think it is quite possible to
note long-standing tendencies in the response of liberal as well as Communist
intellectuals to such mass movements.
As I have already remarked, the Spanish Civil War is not only one of the
critical events of modern history but one of the most intensively studied
as well. Yet there are surprising gaps. During the months following the Franco
insurrection in July 1936, a social revolution of unprecedented scope took
place throughout much of Spain. It had no "revolutionary vanguard" and appears
to have been largely spontaneous, involving masses of urban and rural laborers
in a radical transformation of social and economic conditions that persisted,
with remarkable success, until it was crushed by force. This predominantly
anarchist revolution and the massive social transformation to which it gave
rise are treated, in recent historical studies, as a kind of aberration,
a nuisance that stood in the way of successful prosecution of the war to
save the bourgeois regime from the Franco rebellion. Many historians would
probably agree with Eric Hobsbawm [11] that the failure of social revolution
in Spain "was due to the anarchists," that anarchism was "a disaster," a
kind of "moral gymnastics" with no "concrete results," at best "a profoundly
moving spectacle for the student of popular religion." The most extensive
historical study of the anarchist revolution [12] is relatively inaccessible,
and neither its author, now living in southern France, nor the many refugees
who will never write memoirs but who might provide invaluable personal testimony
have been consulted, apparently, by writers of the major historical works.
[13] The one published collection of documents dealing with collectivization
[14] has been published only by an anarchist press and hence is barely accessible
to the general reader, and has also rarely been consulted - it does not,
for example, appear in Jack son's bibliography, though Jackson's account
is intended to be a social and political, not merely a military, history.
In fact, this astonishing social upheaval seems to have largely passed from
memory. The drama and pathos of the Spanish Civil War have by no means faded;
witness the impact a few years ago of the film To Die in Madrid. Yet in this
film (as Daniel Guérin points out) one finds no reference to the popular
revolution that had transformed much of Spanish society.
I will be concerned here with the events of 1936-37, [15] and with one particular
aspect of the complex struggle involving Franco Nationalists, Republicans
(including the Communist party), anarchists, and socialist workers' groups.
The Franco insurrection in July 1936 came against a background of several
months of strikes, expropriations, and battles between peasants and Civil
Guards. The left-wing socialist leader Largo Caballero had demanded in June
that the workers be armed, but was refused by Azaña. When the coup
came, the Republican government was paralyzed. Workers armed themselves in
Madrid and Barcelona, robbing government armories and even ships in the harbor,
and put down the insurrection while the government vacillated, torn between
the twin dangers of submitting to Franco and arming the working classes.
In large areas of Spain, effective authority passed into the hands of the
anarchist and socialist workers who had played a substantial, generally dominant
role in putting down the insurrection.
The next few months have frequently been described as a period of "dual power."
In Barcelona, industry and commerce were largely collectivized, and a wave
of collectivization spread through rural areas, as well as towns and villages,
in Aragon, Castile, and the Levante, and to a lesser but still significant
extent in many parts of Catalonia, Asturias, Es tremadura, and Andalusia.
Military power was exercised by defense committees; social and economic organization
took many forms, following in main outlines the program of the Saragossa
Congress of the anarchist CNT (Confederacion Nacional del Trabajo) in May
1936. The revolution was "apolitical," in the sense that its organs of power
and administration remained separate from the central Republican government
and, even after several anarchist leaders entered the government in the autumn
of 1936, continued to function fairly independently until the revolution
was finally crushed between the fascist and Communist-led Republican forces.
The success of collectivization of industry and commerce in Barcelona impressed
even highly unsympathetic observers such as Franz Borkenau. The scale of
rural collectivization is indicated by these data from anarchist sources:
in Aragon, 450 collectives with 500,000 members; in the Levante, 900 collectives
accounting for about half the agricultural production and 70 percent of marketing
in this, the richest agricultural region of Spain; in Castile, 300 collectives
with about 100,000 members. [16] In Catalonia, the bourgeois government
headed by Luis Companys retained nominal authority, but real power was in
the hands of the anarchist-dominated committees.
The period of July through September may be characterized as one of spontaneous,
widespread, but unconsummated social revolution. [17] A number of anarchist
leaders joined the government; the reason, as stated by Federica Montseny
on January 3, 1937, was this: ". . . . . the anarchists have entered the
government to prevent the Revolution from deviating and in order to carry
it further beyond the war, and also to oppose any dictatorial tendency, from
wherever it might come." [18] The central government fell increasingly under
Communist control - in Catalonia, under the control of the Communist-dominated
PSUC (Partit Socialista Unificat de Catalunya) - largely as a result of the
valuable Russian military assistance. Communist success was greatest in the
rich farming areas of the Levante (the government moved to Valencia, capital
of one of the provinces), where prosperous farm owners flocked to the Peasant
Federation that the party had organized to protect the wealthy farmers; this
federation ""served as a powerful instrument in checking the rural collectiviza
tion promoted by the agricultural workers of the province." [19] Elsewhere
as well, counterrevolutionary successes reflected increasing Communist dominance
of the Republic.
The first phase of the counterrevolution was the legalization and regulation
of those accomplishments of the revolution that appeared irreversible. A
decree of October 7 by the Communist minister of agriculture, Vicente Uribe,
legalized certain expropriations-namely, of lands belonging to participants
in the Franco revolt. Of course, these expropria tions had already taken
place, a fact that did not prevent the Communist press from describing the
decree as ""the most profoundly revolutionary measure that has been taken
since the military uprising.' [20] In fact, by exempting the estates of landowners
who had not directly participated in the Franco rebellion, the decree represented
a step backward, from the standpoint of the revolutionaries, and it was criticized
not only by the CNT but also by the socialist Federation of Land Workers,
affiliated with the UGT (Union General de Trabajadores). The demand for a
much broader decree was unacceptable to the Communist-led ministry, since
the Communist party was "seeking support among the propertied classes in
the anti-Franco coup" and hence "could not afford to repel the small and
medium proprietors who had been hostile to the working class move ment before
the civil war." [21] These ""small proprietors," in fact, seem to have included
owners of substantial estates. The decree compelled tenants to continue paying
rent unless the landowners had supported Franco, and by guaranteeing former
landholdings, it prevented distribu tion of land to the village poor. Ricardo
Zabalza, general secretary of the Federation of Land Workers, described the
resulting situation as one of ""galling injustice"; "the sycophants of the
former political bosses still enjoy a privileged position at the expense
of those persons who were unable to rent even the smallest parcel of land,
because they were revolu tionaries." [22]
To complete the stage of legalization and restriction of what had al ready
been achieved, a decree of October 24, 1936, promulgated by a CNT member
who had become councilor for economy in the Catalonian Generalitat, gave
legal sanction to the collectivization of industry in Catalonia. In this
case, too, the step was regressive, from the revolutionary point of view.
Collectivization was limited to enterprises employing more than a hundred
workers, and a variety of conditions were established that removed control
from the workers' committees to the state bureaucracy.
The second stage of the counterrevolution, from October 1936 through May
1937, involved the destruction of the local committees, the replacement of
the militia by a conventional army, and the reestablishment of the prerevolutionary
social and economic system, wherever this was possible. Finally in May 1937
came a direct attack on the working class in Barcelona (the May Days). [24]
Following the success of this attack, the process of liquidation of the revolution
was completed. The collectivization decree of October 24 was rescinded and
industries were "freed" from workers' control. Communist-led armies swept
through Aragon, destroying many collectives and dismantling their organizations
and, generally, bringing the area under the control of the central government.
Throughout the Republican-held territories, the government, now under Communist
domination, acted in accordance with the plan announced in Pravda on December
17, 1936: "So far as Catalonia is concerned, the cleaning up of Trotzkyist
and Anarcho-Syndicalist elements there has already begun, and it will be
carried out there with the same energy as in the U.S.S.R." [25] -and, we
may add, in much the same manner.
In brief, the period from the summer of 1936 to 1937 was one of revolution
and counterrevolution: the revolution was largely spontaneous with mass participation
of anarchist and socialist industrial and agricultural workers; the counterrevolution
was under Communist direction, the Communist party increasingly coming to
represent the right wing of the Republic. During this period and after the
success of the counterrevolution, the Republic was waging a war against the
Franco insurrection; this has been described in great detail in numerous
publications, and I will say little about it here. The Communist-led counterrevolutionary
struggle must, of course, be understood against the background of the ongoing
antifascist war and the more general attempt of the Soviet Union to construct
a broad antifascist alliance with the Western democracies. One reason for
the vigorous counterrevolutionary policy of the Communists was their belief
that England would never tolerate a revolutionary triumph in Spain, where
England had substantial commercial interests, as did France and to a lesser
extent the United States. [26] I will return to this matter below. However,
I think it is important to bear in mind that there were undoubtedly other
factors as well. Rudolf Rocker's comments are, I believe, quite to the point:
"... the Spanish people have been engaged in a desperate struggle against
a pitiless foe and have been exposed besides to the secret intrigues of the
great imperialist powers of Europe. Despite this the Spanish revolutionaries
have not grasped at the disastrous expedient of dictatorship, but have respected
all honest convictions. Everyone who visited Barcelona after the July battles,
whether friend or foe of the C.N.T., was surprised at the freedom of public
life and the absence of any arrangements for suppressing the free expression
of opinion.
For two decades the supporters of Bolshevism have been hammering it into
the masses that dictatorship is a vital necessity for the defense of the
so-called proletarian interests against the assaults of the counter-revolution
and for paving the way for Socialism. They have not advanced the cause of
Socialism by this propaganda, but have merely smoothed the way for Fascism
in Italy, Germany and Austria by causing millions of people to forget that
dictatorship, the most extreme form of tyranny, can never lead to social
liberation. In Russia, the so-called dictatorship of the proletariat has
not led to Socialism, but to the domination of a new bureaucracy over the
proletariat and the whole people. ...
What the Russian autocrats and their supporters fear most is that the success
of libertarian Socialism in Spain might prove to their blind followers that
the much vaunted "necessity of a dictatorship" is nothing but one vast fraud
which in Russia has led to the despotism of Stalin and is to serve today
in Spain to help the counter-revolution to a victory over the revolution
of the workers and peasants." [27]
After decades of anti-Communist indoctrination, it is difficult to achieve
a perspective that makes possible a serious evaluation of the extent to which
Bolshevism and Western liberalism have been united in their opposition to
popular revolution. However, I do not think that one can comprehend the events
in Spain without attaining this perspective.
With this brief sketch-partisan, but I think accurate-for background, I would
like to turn to Jackson's account of this aspect of the Spanish Civil War
(see note 8). Jackson presumes (p. 259) that Soviet support for the Republican
cause in Spain was guided by two factors: first, concern for Soviet security;
second, the hope that a Republican victory would advance "the cause of the
world-wide 'people's revolution' with which Soviet leaders hoped to identify
themselves." They did not press their revolutionary aims, he feels, because
""for the moment it was essential not to frighten the middle classes or the
Western governments."
As to the concern for Soviet security, Jackson is no doubt correct. It is
clear that Soviet support of the Republic was one aspect of the attempt to
make common cause with the Western democracies against the fascist threat.
However, Jackson's conception of the Soviet Union as a revolutionary power-hopeful
that a Republican victory would advance "the interrupted movement toward
world revolution" and seeking to identify itself with "the cause of the world-wide
"people's revolution"-seems to me entirely mistaken. Jackson presents no
evidence to support this interpretation of Soviet policy, nor do I know of
any. It is interesting to see how differently the events were interpreted
at the time of the Spanish Civil War, not only by anarchists like Rocker
but also by such commentators as Gerald Brenan and Franz Borkenau, who were
intimately acquainted with the situation in Spain. Brenan observes that the
counterrevolutionary policy of the Communists (which he thinks was "extremely
sensible") was
"the policy most suited to the Communists themselves. Russia is a totalitarian
regime ruled by a bureaucracy: the frame of mind of its leaders, who have
come through the most terrible upheaval in history, is cynical and opportunist:
the whole fabric of the state is dogmatic and authoritarian. To expect such
men to lead a social revolution in a country like Spain, where the wildest
idealism is combined with great independence of character, was out of the
question. The Russians could, it is true, command plenty of idealism among
their foreign admirers, but they could only harness it to the creation of
a cast-iron bureaucratic state, where everyone thinks alike and obeys the
orders of the chief above him." [28]
He sees nothing in Russian conduct in Spain to indicate any interest in a
"people's revolution." Rather, the Communist policy was to oppose even such
rural and industrial collectives as had risen spontaneously and flood the
country with police who, like the Russian OGPU, acted on the orders of their
party rather than those of the Ministry of the Interior." The Communists
were concerned to suppress altogether the impulses toward "spontaneity of
speech or action," since "their whole nature and history made them distrust
the local and spontaneous and put their faith in order, discipline and bureaucratic
uniformity"-hence placed them in opposition to the revolutionary forces in
Spain. As Brenan also notes, the Russians withdrew their support once it
became clear that the British would not be swayed from the policy of appeasement,
a fact which gives additional confirmation to the thesis that only considerations
of Russian foreign policy led the Soviet Union to support the Republic.
Borkenau's analysis is similar. He approves of the Communist policy, because
of its "efficiency," but he points out that the Communists "put an end to
revolutionary social activity, and enforced their view that this ought not
to be a revolution but simply the defence of a legal government. ... communist
policy in Spain was mainly dictated not by the necessities of the Spanish
fight but by the interests of the intervening foreign power, Russia," a country
"with a revolutionary past, not a revolutionary present." The Communists
acted "not with the aim of transforming chaotic enthusiasm into disciplined
enthusiasm [which Borkenau feels to have been necessary], but with the aim
of substituting disciplined military and administrative action for the action
of the masses and getting rid of the latter entirely." This policy, he points
out, went "directly against the interests and claims of the masses" and thus
weakened popular support. The now apathetic masses would not commit themselves
to the defense of a Communist-run dictatorship, which restored former authority
and even "showed a definite preference for the police forces of the old regime,
so hated by the masses." It seems to me that the record strongly supports
this interpretation of Communist policy and its effects, though Borkenau's
assumption that Communist "efficiency" was necessary to win the anti-Franco
struggle is much more dubious-a question to which I return below. [29]
It is relevant to observe, at this point, that a number of the Spanish Communist
leaders were reluctantly forced to similar conclusions. Burnett Bolloten
cites several examples, [30] specifically, the military commander "El Campesino"
and Jesus Hernandez, a minister in the Caballero government. The former,
after his escape from the Soviet Union in 1949, stated that he had taken
for granted the "revolutionary solidarity" of the Soviet Union during the
Civil War-a most remarkable degree of innocence-and realized only later "that
the Kremlin does not serve the interests of the peoples of the world, but
makes them serve its own interests; that, with a treachery and hypocrisy
without parallel, it makes use of the international working class as a mere
pawn in its political intrigues." Hernandez, in a speech given shortly after
the Civil War, admits that the Spanish Communist leaders "acted more like
Soviet subjects than sons of the Spanish people." "It may seem absurd, incredible,"
he adds, "but our education under Soviet tutelage had deformed us to such
an extent that we were completely denationalized; our national soul was torn
out of us and replaced by a rabidly chauvinistic internationalism, which
began and ended with the towers of the Kremlin."
Shortly after the Third World Congress of the Communist International in
1921, the Dutch "ultra-leftist" Hermann Gorter wrote that the congress "has
decided the fate of the world revolution for the present. The trend of opinion
that seriously desired world revolution ... has been expelled from the Russian
International. The Communist Parties in western Europe and throughout the
world that retain their membership of the Russian International will become
nothing more than a means to preserve the Russian Revolution and the Soviet
Republic." [31] This forecast has proved quite accurate. Jackson's conception
that the Soviet Union was a revolutionary power in the late 1930s, or even
that the Soviet leaders truly regarded themselves as identified with world
revolution, is without factual support. It is a misinterpretation that runs
parallel to the American Cold War mythology that has invented an "international
Communist conspiracy" directed from Moscow (now Peking) to justify its own
interventionist policies.
Turning to events in revolutionary Spain, Jackson describes the first stages
of collectivization as follows: the unions in Madrid, "as in Barcelona and
Valencia, abused their sudden authority to place the sign incaulado [placed
under workers' control] on all manner of buildings and vehicles" (p. 279).
Why was this an abuse of authority? This Jackson does not explain. The choice
of words indicates a reluctance on Jackson's part to recognize the reality
of the revolutionary situation, despite his account of the breakdown of Republican
authority. The statement that the workers "abused their sudden authority"
by carrying out collectivization rests on a moral judgment that recalls that
of Ithiel Pool, when he characterizes land reform in Vietnam as a matter
of "despoiling one's neighbors," or of Franz Borkenau, when he speaks of
expropriation in the Soviet Union as "robbery," demonstrating "a streak of
moral indifference."
Within a few months,Jackson informs us, "the revolutionary tide began to
ebb in Catalonia" after "accumulating food and supply problems, and the experience
of administering villages, frontier posts, and public utilities, had rapidly
shown the anarchists the unsuspected complexity of modern society" (pp. 313-14).
In Barcelona, "the naive optimism of the revolutionary conquests of the previous
August had given way to feelings of resentment and of somehow having been
cheated," as the cost of living doubled, bread was in short supply, and police
brutality reached the levels of the monarchy. "The POUM [Partido Obrero de
Unificacion Marxista] and the anarchist press simultaneously extolled the
collectivizations and explained the failures of production as due to Valencia
policies of boycotting the Catalan economy and favoring the bourgeoisie.
They explained the loss of Malaga as due in large measure to the low morale
and the disorientation of the Andalusian proletariat, which saw the Valencia
government evolving steadily toward the right" (p. 368). Jackson evidently
believes that this left-wing interpretation of events was nonsensical, and
that in fact it was anarchist incompetence or treachery that was responsible
for the difficulties: "In Catalonia, the CNT factory committees dragged their
heels on war production, claiming that the government deprived them of raw
materials and was favoring the bourgeoisie" (p.365).
In fact, "the revolutionary tide began to ebb in Catalonia" under a middle-class
attack led by the Communist party, not because of a recognition of the "complexity
of modern society." And it was, moreover, quite true that the Communist-dominated
central government attempted, with much success, to hamper collectivized
industry and agriculture and to disrupt the collectivization of commerce.
I have already referred to the early stages of counterrevolution. Further
investigation of the sources to which Jackson refers and others shows that
the anarchist charges were not baseless, as Jackson implies. Bolloten cites
a good deal of evidence in support of his conclusion that
"in the countryside the Communists undertook a spirited defence of the small
and medium proprietor and tenant farmer against the collectivizing drive
of the rural wage-workers, against the policy of the labour unions prohibiting
the farmer from holding more land than he could cultivate with his own hands,
and against the practices of revolutionary committees, which requisitioned
harvests, inter fered with private trade, and collected rents from tenant
farmers." [32]
The policy of the government was clearly enunciated by the Communist minister
of agriculture: "We say that the property of the small farmer is sacred and
that those who attack or attempt to attack this property must be regarded
as enemies of the regime." [33] Gerald Brenan, no sympathizer with collectivization,
explains the failure of collectivization as follows (p.321):
"The Central Government, and especially the Communist and Socialist members
of it, desired to bring [the collectives] under the direct control of the
State: they therefore failed to provide them with the credit required for
buying raw materials: as soon as the supply of raw cotton was exhausted the
mills stopped working. ... even [the munitions industry in Catalonia] were
harassed by the new bureaucratic organs of the Ministry of Supply." [34]
He quotes the bourgeois president of Catalonia, Companys, as saying that
"workers in the arms factories in Barcelona had been working 56 ours and
more each week and that no cases of sabotage or indiscipline had taken place,"
until the workers were demoralized by the bureaucrati zation-later, militarization-imposed
by the central government and the Communist party. [35] His own conclusion
is that "the Valencia Government was now using the P.S.U.C. against the C.N.T.-but
not. . . because the Catalan workers were giving trouble, but because the
Communists wished to weaken them before destroying them."
The cited correspondence from Companys to Indalecio Prieto, accord ing to
Vernon Richards (p. 47), presents evidence showing the success of Catalonian
war industry under collectivization and demonstrating how "much more could
have been achieved had the means for expanding the industry not been denied
them by the Central Government." Richards also cites testimony by a spokesman
for the Subsecretariat of Munitions and Armament of the Valencia government
admitting that "the war industry of Catalonia had produced ten times more
than the rest of Spanish industry put together and [agreeing] . . . that
this output could have been quadrupled as from beginning of September if
Catalonia had had access to the necessary means for purchasing raw materials
that were unobtain able in Spanish territory." It is important to recall
that the central government had enormous gold reserves (soon to be transmitted
to the Soviet Union), so that raw materials for Catalan industry could probably
have been purchased, despite the hostility of the Western democracies to
the Republic during the revolutionary period (see below). Furthermore, raw
materials had repeatedly been requested. On September 24, 1936, Juan Fabregas,
the CNT delegate to the Economic Council of Catalonia who was in part responsible
for the collectivization decree cited earlier, reported that the financial
difficulties of Catalonia were created by the refusal of the central government
to "give any assistance in economic and financial questions, presumably because
it has little sympathy with the work of a practical order which is being
carried out in Catalonia" [36] - that is, collectivization. He "went on to
recount that a Commission which went to Madrid to ask for credits to purchase
war materials and raw materials, offering 1,000 million pesetas in securities
lodged in the Bank of Spain, met with a blank refusal. It was sufficient
that the new war industry in Catalonia was controlled by the workers of the
C.N.T. for the Madrid Government to refuse any unconditional aid. Only in
exchange for government control would they give financial assistance." [37]
Pierre Broue and Emile Temime take a rather similar position. Commenting
on the charge of "incompetence" leveled against the collectivized industries,
they point out that "one must not neglect the terrible burden of the war."
Despite this burden, they observe, "new techniques of management and elimination
of dividends had permitted a lowering of prices" and "mechanisation and rationalisation,
introduced in numerous enterprises . . . had considerably augmented production.
The workers accepted the enormous sacrifices with enthusiasm because, in
most cases, they had the conviction that the factory belonged to them and
that at last they were working for themselves and their class brothers. A
truly new spirit had come over the economy of Spain with the concentration
of scattered enterprises, the simplification of commercial patterns, a significant
structure of social projects for aged workers, children, disabled, sick and
the personnel in general" (pp. 150-51). The great weakness of the revolution,
they argue, was the fact that it was not carried through to completion. In
part this was because of the war; in part, a consequence of the policies
of the central government. They too emphasize the refusal of the Madrid government,
in the early stages of collectivization, to grant credits or supply funds
to collectivized industry or agriculture-in the case of Catalonia, even when
substantial guarantees were offered by the Catalonian government. Thus the
collectivized enterprises were forced to exist on what assets had been seized
at the time of the revolution. The control of gold and credit "permitted
the government to restrict and prevent the function of collective enterprises
at will" (p. 144).
According to Broue and Temime, it was the restriction of credit that finally
destroyed collectivized industry. The Companys government in Catalonia refused
to create a bank for industry and credit, as demanded by the CNT and POUM,
and the central government (relying, in this case, on control of the banks
by the socialist UGT) was able to control the flow of capital and "to reserve
credit for private enterprise." All attempts to obtain credit for collectivized
industry were unsuccessful, they maintain, and "the movement of collectivization
was restricted, then halted, the government remaining in control of industry
through the medium of the banks ... [and later] through its control of the
choice of managers and directors," who often turned out to be the former
owners and managers, under new titles. The situation was similar in the case
of collectivized agriculture (pp. 204ff.).
The situation was duly recognized in the West. The New York Times, in February
1938, observed: "The principle of State intervention and control of business
and industry, as against workers' control of them in the guise of collectivization,
is gradually being established in loyalist Spain by a series of decrees now
appearing. Coincidentally there is to be established the principle of private
ownership and the rights of corporations and companies to what is lawfully
theirs under the Constitution." [38]
Morrow cites (pp. 64_65) a series of acts by the Catalonian government restricting
collectivization, once power had shifted away from the new institutions set
up by the workers' revolution of July 1936. On February 3, the collectivization
of the dairy trade was declared illegal. [39] In April, "the Generalidad
annulled workers' control over the customs by refusing to certify workers'
ownership of material that had been exported and was being tied up in foreign
courts by suits of former owners; henceforth the factories and agricultural
collectives exporting goods were at the mercy of the government." In May,
as has already been noted, the collectivization decree of October 24 was
rescinded, with the argument that the decree "was dictated without competency
by the Generalidad," because "there was not, nor is there yet, legislation
of the [Spanish] state to apply" and "article 44 of the Constitution declares
expropriation and socialization are functions of the State." A decree of
August 28 "gave the government the right to intervene in or take over any
mining or metallurgical plant." The anarchist newspaper Solidaridad Obrera
reported in October a decision of the department of purchases of the Ministry
of Defense that it would make contracts for purchases only with enterprises
functioning "on the basis of their old owners" or "under the corresponding
intervention controlled by the Ministry of Finance and Economy." [40]
Returning to Jackson's statement that "in Catalonia, the CNT factory committees
dragged their heels on war production, claiming that the government deprived
them of raw materials and was favoring the bourgeoisie," I believe one must
conclude that this statement is more an expres sion of Jackson's bias in
favor of capitalist democracy than a description of the historical facts.
At the very least, we can say this much: Jackson presents no evidence to
support his conclusion; there is a factual basis for questioning it. I have
cited a number of sources that the liberal historian would regard, quite
correctly, as biased in favor of the revolution. My point is that the failure
of objectivity, the deep-seated bias of liberal historians, is a matter much
less normally taken for granted, and that there are good grounds for supposing
that this failure of objectivity has seriously distorted the judgments that
are rather brashly handed down about the nature of the Spanish revolution.
Continuing with the analysis of Jackson's judgments, unsupported by any cited
evidence, consider his remark, quoted above, that in Barcelona "the naive
optimism of the revolutionary conquests of the previous August had given
way to feelings of resentment and of somehow having been cheated." It is
a fact that by January 1937 there was great disaffection in Barcelona. But
was this simply a consequence of "the unsuspected complexity of modern society"?
Looking into the matter a bit more closely, we see a rather different picture.
Under Russian pressure, the PSUC was given substantial control of the Catalonian
government, "putting into the Food Ministry [in December 1936] the man most
to the Right in present Catalan politics, Comorera" [41]-by virtue of his
political views, the most willing collaborator with the general Communist
party position. According to Jackson, Comorera "immediately took steps to
end barter and requisitioning, and became a defender of the peasants against
the revolution" (p. 314); he "ended requisition, restored money payments,
and protected the Catalan peasants against further collectivization" (p.
361). This is all that Jackson has to say about Juan Comorera.
We learn more from other sources: for example, Borkenau, who was in Barcelona
for the second time in January 1937-and is universally recognized as a highly
knowledgeable and expert observer, with strong antianarchist sentiments.
According to Borkenau, Comorera represented "a political attitude which can
best be compared with that of the extreme right wing of the German social-democracy.
He had always regarded the fight against anarchism as the chief aim of socialist
policy in Spain. ... To his surprise, he found unexpected allies for his
dislike [of anarchist policies] in the communists." [42] It was impossible
to reverse collectivization of industry at that stage in the process of counterrevolution;
Comorera did succeed, however, in abolishing the system by which the provisioning
of Barcelona had been organized, namely, the village committees, mostly under
CNT influence, which had cooperated (perhaps, Borkenau suggests, unwillingly)
in delivering flour to the towns. Continuing, Borkenau describes the situation
as follows:
"... Comorera, starting from those principles of abstract liberalism which
no administration has followed during the war, but of which rlght-wing socialists
are the last and most religious admirers, did not substitute for the chaotic
bread committees a centralized administration. He restored private commerce
in bread, simply and completely. There was, in January, not even a system
of rationing in Barcelona. Workers were simply left to get their bread, with
wages which had hardly changed since May, at increased prices, as well as
they could. In practice it meant that the women had to form queues from four
o'clock in the morning onwards. The resentment in the working-class districts
was naturally acute, the more so as the scarcity of bread rapidly increased
after Comorera had taken office." [43]
In short, the workers of Barcelona were not merely giving way to "feelings
of resentment and of somehow having been cheated" when they learned of "the
unsuspected complexity of modern society." Rather, they had good reason to
believe that they were being cheated, by the old dog with the new collar.
George Orwell's observations are also highly relevant:
"Everyone who has made two visits, at intervals of months, to Barcelona during
the war has remarked upon the extraordinary changes that took place in it.
And curiously enough, whether they went there first in August and again in
January, or, like myself, first in December and again in April, the thing
they said was always the same: that the revolutionary atmosphere had vanished.
No doubt to anyone who had been there in August, when the blood was scarcely
dry in the streets and militia were quartered in the small hotels, Barcelona
in December would have seemed bourgeois; to me, fresh from England, it was
liker to a workers' city than anything I had conceived possible. Now [in
April] the tide had rolled back. Once again it was an ordinary city, a little
pinched and chipped by war, but with no outward sign of working-class predominance....
Fat prosperous men, elegant women, and sleek cars were everywhere. ... The
officers of the new Popular Army, a type that had scarcely existed when I
left Barcelona, swarmed in surprising numbers ... [wearing] an elegant khaki
uniform with a tight waist, like a British Army officer's uniform, only a
little more so. I do not suppose that more than one in twenty of them had
yet been to the front, but all of them had automatic pistols strapped to
their belts; we, at the front, could not get pistols for love or money. ...
A deep change had come over the town. There were two facts that were the
keynote of all else. One was that the people-the civil population- had lost
much of their interest in the war; the other was that the normal division
of society into rich and poor, upper class and lower class, was reasserting
itself." [44]
Whereas Jackson attributes the ebbing of the revolutionary tide to the discovery
of the unsuspected complexity of modern society, Orwell's firsthand observations,
like those of Borkenau, suggest a far simpler explanation. What calls for
explanation is not the disaffection of the workers of Barcelona but the curious
constructions of the historian.
Let me repeat, at this point, Jackson's comments regarding Juan Comorera:
Comorera "immediately took steps to end barter and requisitioning, and became
a defender of the peasants against the revolution"; he "ended requisitions,
restored money payments, and protected the Catalan peasants against further
collectivization." These comments imply that the peasantry of Catalonia was,
as a body, opposed to the revolution and that Comorera put a stop to the
collectivization that they feared. Jackson nowhere indicates any divisions
among the peasantry on this issue and offers no support for the implied claim
that collectivization was in process at the period of Comorera's access to
power. In fact, it is questionable that Comorera's rise to power affected
the course of collectivization in Catalonia. Evidence is difficult to come
by, but it seems that collectivization of agriculture in Catalonia was not,
in any event, extensive, and that it was not extending in December, when
Comorera took office. We know from anarchist sources that there had been
instances of forced collectivization in Catalonia, [45] but I can find no
evidence that Comorera "protected the peasantry" from forced collectivization.
Furthermore, it is misleading, at best, to imply that the peasantry as a
whole was opposed to collectivization. A more accurate picture is presented
by Bolloten (p. 56), who points out that "if the individual farmer viewed
with dismay the swift and widespread development of collectivized agriculture,
the farm workers of the Anarchosyndicalist CNT and the Socialist UGT saw
in it, on the contrary, the commencement of a new era." In short, there was
a complex class struggle in the countryside, though one learns little about
it from Jackson's oversimplified and misleading ac count. It would seem fair
to suppose that this distortion again reflects Jackson's antipathy toward
the revolution and its goals. I will return to this question directly, with
reference to areas where agricultural collectiv ization was much more extensive
than in Catalonia.
The complexities of modern society that baffled and confounded the unsuspecting
anarchist workers of Barcelona, as Jackson enumerates them, were the following:
the accumulating food and supply problems and the administration of frontier
posts, villages, and public utilities. As just noted, the food and supply
problems seem to have accumulated most rapidly under the brilliant leadership
of Juan Comorera. So far as the frontier posts are concerned, the situation,
as Jackson elsewhere describes it (p. 368), was basically as follows: "In
Catalonia the anarchists had, ever since July 18, controlled the customs
stations at the French border. On April 17, 1937, the reorganized carabineros,
acting on orders of the Finance Minister, Juan Negrin, began to reoccupy
the frontier. At least eight anarchists were killed in clashes with the carabineros."
Apart from this difficulty, admittedly serious, there seems little reason
to suppose that the problem of manning frontier posts contributed to the
ebbing of the revolutionary tide. The available records do not indicate that
the problems of administering villages or public utilities were either "unsuspected"
or too complex for the Catalonian workers-a remarkable and unsuspected development,
but one which nevertheless appears to be borne out by the evidence available
to us. I want to emphasize again that Jackson presents no evidence to support
his conclusions about the ebbing of the revolutionary tide and the reasons
for the disaffection of the Catalonian workers. Once again, I think
it fair to attribute his conclusions to the elitist bias of the liberal intellectual
rather than to the historical record.
Consider next Jackson's comment that the anarchists "explained the loss of
Malaga as due in large measure to the low morale and the disorientation of
the Andalusian proletariat, which saw the Valencia government evolving steadily
toward the right." Again, it seems that Jackson regards this as just another
indication of the naivete and unreasonableness of the Spanish anarchists.
However, here again there is more to the story. One of the primary sources
that Jackson cites is Borkenau, quite naturally, since Borkenau spent several
days in the area just prior to the fall of Malaga on February 8, 1937. But
Borkenau's detailed observations tend to bear out the anarchist "explanation,"
at least in part. He believed that Malaga might have been saved, but only
by a "fight of despair" with mass involvement, of a sort that "the anarchists
might have led." But two factors prevented such a defense: First, the officer
assigned to lead the defense, Lieutenant Colonel Villalba, "interpreted this
task as a purely military one, whereas in reality he had no military means
at his disposal but only the forces of a popular movement ; he was a professional
officer, "who in the secrecy of his heart hated the spirit of the militia"
and was incapable of comprehending the "political factor." [46] A second
factor was the significant decline, by February, of political consciousness
and mass involvement. The anarchist committees were no longer functioning,
and the authority of the police and Civil Guards had been restored. "The
nuisance of hundreds of independent village police bodies had disappeared,
but with it the passionate interest of the village in the civil war. . .
. The short interlude of the Spanish Soviet system was at an end" (p. 212).
After reviewing the local situation in Malaga and the conflicts in the Valencia
government (which failed to provide support or arms for the militia defending
Malaga), Borkenau concludes (p. 228): "The Spanish republic paid with the
fall of Malaga for the decision of the Right wing of its camp to make an
end of social revolution and of its Left wing not to allow that." Jackson's
discussion of the fall of Malaga refers to the terror and political rivalries
within the town but makes no reference to the fact that Borkenau's description,
and the accompanying interpretation, do support the belief that the defeat
was due in large measure to low morale and to the incapacity, or unwillingness,
of the Valencia government to fight a popular war. On the contrary, he concludes
that Colonel Villalba's lack of means for "controlling the bitter political
rivalries" was one factor that prevented him from carrying out the essential
military tasks. Thus he seems to adopt the view that Borkenau condemns, that
the task was a "purely military one." Borkenau's eyewitness account appears
to me much more convincing.
In this case, too, Jackson has described the situation in a somewhat misleading
fashion, perhaps again because of the elitist bias that domi ites the liberal-Communist
interpretation of the Civil War. Like Lieunant Colonel Villalba, liberal
historians often reveal a strong distaste for "the forces of a popular movement"
and "the spirit of the militia." thd an argument can be given that they correspondingly
fail to compre end the "political factor."
In the May Days of 1937, the revolution in Catalonia received the final blow.
On May 3, the councilor for public order, PSUC member Roiguez Salas, appeared
at the central telephone building with a detachment of police, without prior
warning or consultation with the anarchist ministers in the government, to
take over the telephone exchange. The change, formerly the property of IT&T,
had been captured by Barcelona workers in July and had since functioned under
the control of a CGT-CNT committee, with a governmental delegate, quite in
accord th the collectivization decree of October 24, 1936. According to the
London Daily Worker (May 11, 1937), "Salas sent the armed republican police
to disarm the employees there, most of them members of the CNT actions."
The motive, according to Juan Comorera, was "to put a stop to abnormal situation,"
namely, that no one could speak over the telephone "without the indiscreet
ear of the controller knowing it." [47] Armed resistance in the telephone
building prevented its occupation. Local defense committees erected barricades
throughout Barcelona. Companys and the anarchist leaders pleaded with the
workers to disarm. An uneasy truce continued until May 6, when the first
detachments of Assault guards arrived, violating the promises of the government
that the truce would be observed and military forces withdrawn. The troops
were under the command of General Pozas, formerly commander of the hated
Civil Guard and now a member of the Communist party. In the fighting that
followed, there were some five hundred killed and over a thousand wounded.
"The May Days in reality sounded the death-knell of the revolution, announcing
political defeat for all and death for certain of the revolutionary leaders."
[48]
These events-of enormous significance in the history of the Spanish solution-Jackson
sketches in bare outline as a marginal incident. Obviously, the historian's
account must be selective; from the left-liberal point of view that Jackson
shares with Hugh Thomas and many others, liquidation of the revolution in
Catalonia was a minor event, as the revolution itself was merely a kind of
irrelevant nuisance, a minor irritant erting energy from the struggle to
save the bourgeois government. The decision to crush the revolution by force
is described as follows:
"On May 5, Companys obtained a fragile truce, on the basis of which the PSUC
councilors were to retire from the regional government, and the question
of the Telephone Company was left to future negotiation. That very night,
however, Antonio Sese, a UGT official who was about to enter the reorganized
cabinet, was murdered. In any event, the Valencia authorities were in no
mood to temporize further with the Catalan Left. On May 6 several thousand
asaltos arrived in the city, and the Republican Navy demonstrated in the
port." [49]
What is interesting about this description is what is left unsaid. For example,
there is no comment on the fact that the dispatch of the asaltos violated
the "fragile truce" that had been accepted by the Barcelona workers and the
anarchist and the POUM troops nearby, and barely a mention of the bloody
consequences or the political meaning of this unwillingness "to temporize
further with the Catalan Left." There is no mention of the fact that along
with Sese, Berneri and other anarchist leaders were murdered, not only during
the May Days but in the weeks preceding. [50] Jackson does not refer to the
fact that along with the Republican navy, British ships also "demonstrated"
in the port. [51] Nor does he refer to Orwell's telling observations about
the Assault Guards, as compared to the troops at the front, where he had
spent the preceding months. The Assault Guards "were splendid troops, much
the best I had seen in Spain. ... I was used to the ragged, scarcely-armed
militia on the Aragon front, and I had not known that the Republic possessed
troops like these. ... The Civil Guards and Carabineros, who were not intended
for the front at all, were better armed and far better clad than ourselves.
I suspect it is the same in all wars-always the same contrast between the
sleek police in the rear and the ragged soldiers in the line." [52]
The contrast reveals a good deal about the nature of the war, as it was understood
by the Valencia government. Later, Orwell was to make this conclusion explicit:
"A government which sends boys of fifteen to the front with rifles forty
years old and keeps its biggest men and newest weapons in the rear is manifestly
more afraid of the revolution than of the fascists. Hence the feeble war
policy of the past six months, and hence the compromise with which the war
will almost certainly end." [53] Jackson's account of these events,
with its omissions and assumptions, suggests that he perhaps shares the view
that the greatest danger in Spain would have been a victory of the revolution.
Jackson apparently discounts Orwell's testimony, to some extent, commenting
that "the readers should bear in mind Orwell's own honest statement that
he knew very little about the political complexities of the struggle." This
is a strange comment. For one thing, Orwell's analysis of the "political
complexities of the struggle" bears up rather well after thirty years; if
it is defective, it is probably in his tendency to give too much prominence
to the POUM in comparison with the anarchists-not surprising, in view of
the fact that he was with the POUM militia. His exposure of the fatuous nonsense
that was appearing at the time in the Stalinist and liberal presses appears
quite accurate, and later discoveries have given little reason to challenge
the basic facts that he reported or the interpretation that he proposed in
the heat of the conflict. Orwell does, in fact, refer to his own "political
ignorance." Commenting on the final defeat of the revolution in May, he states:
"I realized-though owing to my political ignorance, not so clearly as I ought
to have done-that when the Government felt more sure of itself there would
be reprisals." But this form of "political ignorance" has simply been compounded
in more recent historical work.
Shortly after the May Days, the Caballero government fell and Juan Negrin
became premier of Republican Spain. Negrin is described as Follows by Broue
and Temime: "... he is an unconditional defender of capitalist property and
resolute adversary of collectivization, whom the CNT ministers find blocking
all of their proposals. He is the one who solidly reorganized the carabineros
and presided over the transfer of the gold reserves of the Republic to the
USSR. He enjoyed the confidence of the moderates ... [and] was on excellent
terms with the Communists."
The first major act of the Negrin government was the suppression of the POUM
and the consolidation of central control over Catalonia. The government next
turned to Aragon, which had been under largely anarchist control since the
first days of the revolution, and where agricultural collectivization was
quite extensive and Communist elements very weak. The municipal councils
of Aragon were coordinated by the Council of Aragon, headed by Joaquin Ascaso,
a well-known CNT militant, one of whose brothers had been killed during the
May Days. Under the Cabalero government, the anarchists had agreed to give
representation to other antifascist parties, including the Communists, but
the majority remained anarchist. In August, the Negrin government announced
the dissolution of the Council of Aragon and dispatched a division of the
Spanish army, commanded by the Communist officer Enrique Lister, to Enforce
the dissolution of the local committees, dismantle the collectives, and establish
central government control. Ascaso was arrested on the charge of having been
responsible for the robbery of jewelry-namely, the jewelry "robbed" by the
Council for its own use in the fall of 1936. The local anarchist press was
suppressed in favor of a Communist journal, and, in general, local anarchist
centers were forcefully occupied and closed. The last anarchist stronghold
was captured, with tanks and artillery, on September 21. Because of government-imposed
censorship, there is very little of a direct record of these events, and
the major histories pass over them quickly. [54] According to Felix Morrow,
"the official CNT press . . . compared the assault on Aragon with the subjection
of Asturias by Lopez Ochoa in October 1934" - the latter, one of the bloodiest
acts of repression in modern Spanish history. Although this is an exaggeration,
it is a fact that the popular organs of administration were wiped out by
Lister's legions, and the revolution was now over, so far as Aragon was concerned.
About these events, Jackson has the following comments:
"On August 1 1 the government announced the dissolution of the Consejo de
Aragon, the anarchist-dominated admninistration which had been recognized
by Largo Caballero in December, 1936. The peasants were known to hate the
Consejo, the anarchists had deserted the front during the Barcelona fighting,
and the very existence of the Consejo was a standing challenge to the authority
of the central government. For all these reasons Negrin did not hesitate
to send in troops, and to arrest the anarchist officials. Once their authority
had been broken, however, they were released." [55]
These remarks are most interesting. Consider first the charge that the anarchists
had deserted the front during the May Days. It is true that elements of certain
anarchist and POUM divisions were prepared to march on Barcelona, but after
the "fragile truce" was established on May 5, they did not do so; no anarchist
forces even approached Barcelona to defend the Barcelona proletariat and
its institutions from attack. However, a motorized column of 5,ooo Assault
Guards was sent from the front by the government to break the "fragile truce."
[56] Hence the only forces to "desert the front" during the Barcelona fighting
were those dispatched by the government to complete the job of dismantling
the revolution, by force. Recall Orwell's observations quoted above, page
103.
What about Jackson's statement that "the peasants were known to hate the
Consejo"? As in the other cases I have cited, Jackson gives no indication
of any evidence on which such a judgment might be based. The most detailed
investigation of the collectives is from anarchist sources, and they indicate
that Aragon was one of the areas where collectivization was most widespread
and successful. [57] Both the CNT and the UGT Federation of Land Workers
were vigorous in their support for collectivization, and there is no doubt
that both were mass organizations. A number of nonanarchists, observing collectivization
in Aragon firsthand, gave very favorable reports and stressed the voluntary
character of collectivization. [51] According to Gaston Leval, an anarchist
observer who carried out detailed investigation of rural collectivization,
"In Aragon 75 percent of small proprietors have voluntarily adhered to the
new order of things," and others were not forced to involve themselves in
collectives. [59] Other anarchist observers-Augustin Souchy in particular-gave
detailed observations of the functioning of the Aragon collectives. Unless
one is willing to assume a fantastic degree of falsification, it is impossible
to reconcile their descriptions with the claim that "the peasants were known
to hate the Consejo"-unless, of course, one restricts the term "peasant"
to "individual farm owner," in which case it might very well be true, but
would justify disbanding the council only on the assumption that the rights
of the individual farm owner must predominate, not those of the landless
worker. There is little doubt that the collectives were economically successful,
[60] hardly likely if collectivization were forced and hated by the peasantry.
I have already cited Bolloten's general conclusion, based on very extensive
documentary evidence, that while the individual farmer may have viewed the
development of collectivized agriculture with dismay, "the farm workers of
the Anarchosyndicalist CNT and the Socialist UGT saw in it, on the contrary,
the commencement of a new era." This conclusion seems quite reasonable, on
the basis of the materials that are available. With respect to Aragon, specifically,
he remarks that the "debt-ridden peasants were strongly affected by the ideas
of the CNT and FAI [Federa cion Anarquista Iberica], a factor that gave a
powerful spontaneous impulse to collective farming," though difficulties
are cited by anarchist sources, which in general appear to be quite honest
about failures. Bolloten cites two Communist sources, among others, to the
effect that about 70 percent of the population in rural areas of Aragon lived
in collectives (p. 71); he adds that "many of the region's 450 collectives
were largely voluntary," although "the presence of militiamen from the neighbouring
region of Catalonia, the immense majority of whom were members of the CNT
and FAI" was "in some measure" responsible for the extensive collectivization.
He also points out that in many instances peasant proprietors who were not
compelled to adhere to the collective system did so for other reasons: "...
not only were they prevented fromn employing hired labour and disposing freely
of their crops ... but they were often denied all benefits enjoyed by members"
(p. 72). Bolloten cites the attempt of the Communists in April 1937 to cause
dissension in "areas where the CNT and UGT had established collective farms
by mutual agreement" (p. 195), leading in some cases to pitched battles and
dozens of assassinations, according to CNT sources. [61]
Bolloten's detailed analysis of the events of the summer of 1937 sheds considerable
light on the question of peasant attitudes toward collectivization:
"It was inevitable that the attacks on the collectives should have had an
unfavorable effect upon rural economy and upon morale, for while it is true
that in some areas collectivization was anathema to the majority of peasants,
it is no less true that in others collective farms were organized spontaneously
by the bulk of the peasant population. In Toledo province for example, where
even before the war rural collectives existed, 83 per cent of the peasants,
accord ing to a source friendly to the Communists, decided in favour of the
collective cultivation of the soil. As the campaign against the collective
farms reached its height just before the summer harvest [1937] ... a pall
of dismay and apprehension descended upon the agricultural labourers. Work
in the fields was abandoned in many places or only carried on apathetically,
and there was danger that a sub stantial portion of the harvest, vital for
the war effort, would be left to rot." [P. 196]
It was under these circumstances, he points out, that the Communists were
forced to change their policy and-temporarily-to tolerate the collectives.
A decree was passed legalizing collectives "during the current agricultural
year" (his italics) and offering them some aid. This "produced a sense of
relief in the countryside during the vital period of the harvest." Immediately
after the crops had been gathered, the policy changed again to one of harsh
repression. Bolloten cites Communist sources to the effect that "a short
though fierce campaign at the beginning of August" prepared the way for the
dissolution of the Council of Aragon. Following the dissolution decree, "the
newly appointed Governor General, Jose Ignacio Mantecon, a member of the
Left Republican Party, but a secret Communist synthpathizer [who joined the
party in exile, after the war], ... ordered the break-up of the collective
farms." The means: Lister's division, which restored the old order by force
and terror. Bolloten cites Communist sources conceding the excessive harshness
of Lister's methods. He quotes the Communist general secretary of the Institute
of Agrarian Reform, who admits that the measures taken to dissolve the collectives
were "a very grave mistake, and produced tremendous disorganization in the
countryside," as "those persons who were discontented wmth the collectives
... took them by assault, carrying away and dividing up the harvest and farm
implements without respecting the collectives that had been formed without
violence or pressure, that were prosperous, and that were a model of organization.
... As a result, labour in the fields was suspended almost entirely, and
a quarter of the land had not been prepared at the time for sowing" (p. 200).
Once again, it was necessary to ameliorate the harsh repression of the collectives,
to prevent disaster. Summarizing these events, Bolloten describes the resulting
situation as follows:
"But although the situation in Aragon improved in some degree, the hatreds
and resentments generated by the break-up of the collectives and by the repression
that followed were never wholly dispelled. Nor was the resultant disillusionment
that sapped the spirit of the Anarchosyndicalist forces on the Aragon front
ever entirely removed, a disillusionment that no doubt contributed to the
col lapse of that front a few months later. ... after the destruction of
the collective farms in Aragon, the Communist Party was compelled to modify
its policy, and support collectives also in other regions against former
owners who sought the return of confiscated land. ..." [Pp. 200-201]
Returning to Jackson's remarks, I think we must conclude that they seriously
misrepresent the situation. [62] The dissolution of the Council of Aragon
and the large-scale destruction of the collectives by military force was
simply another stage in the eradication of the popular revolution and the
restoration of the old order. Let me emphasize that I am not criticizing
Jackson for his negative attitude toward the social revolution, but rather
for the failure of objectivity when he deals with the revolution and the
ensuing repression.
Among historians of the Spanish Civil War, the dominant view is that the
Communist policy was in essentials the correct one-that in order to consolidate
domestic and international support for the Republic it was necessary to block
and then reverse the social revolution. Jackson, for example, states that
Caballero "realized that it was absolutely necessary to rebuild the authority
of the Republican state and to work in close cooperation with the middle-class
liberals." The anarchist leaders who entered the government shared this view,
putting their trust in the good faith of liberals such as Companys and believing-naively,
as events were to show-that the Western democracies would come to their aid.
A policy diametrically opposed to this was advocated by Camillo Berneri.
In his open letter to the anarchist minister Federica Montseny, [65] he summarizes
his views in the following way: "The dilemma, war or revolution, no longer
has meaning. The only dilemma is this. Either victory over Franco through
revolutionary war, or defeat" (his italics). He argued that Morocco should
be granted independence and that an attempt should be made to stir up rebellion
throughout North Africa. Thus a revolutionary struggle should be undertaken
against Western capitalism in North Africa and, simultaneously, against the
bourgeois regime in Spain, which was gradually dismantling the accomplishments
of the July revolution. The primary front should be political. Franco relied
heavily on Moorish contingents, including a substantial number from French
Morocco. The Republic might exploit this fact, demoralizing the Nationalist
forces and perhaps even winning them to the revolutionary cause by political
agitation based on the concrete alternative of pan-Islamic-specifically,
Moroccan-revolution. Writing in April 1937, Berneri urged that the army of
the Repub lic be reorganized for the defense of the revolution, so that it
might recover the spirit of popular participation of the early days of the
revolution. He quotes the words of his compatriot Louis Bertoni, writing
from the Huesca front:
"The Spanish war, deprived of all new faith, of any idea of a social transformation,
of all revolutionary grandeur, of any universal meaning, is now merely a
national war of independence that must be carried on to avoid the extermination
that the international plutocracy demands. There remains a terrible question
of life or death, but no longer a war to build a new society and a new humanity."
In such a war, the human element that might bring victory over fascism is
lost. In retrospect, Berneri's ideas seem quite reasonable. Delegations of
Moroccan nationalists did in fact approach the Valencia government asking
for arms and materiel, but were refused by Caballero, who actually proposed
territorial concessions in North Africa to France and England to try to win
their support. Commenting on these facts, Broue and Temime observe that these
policies deprived the Republic of "the instrument of revolutionary defeatism
in the enemy army," and even of a possible weapon against Italian intervention.
Jackson, on the other hand, dismisses Berneri's suggestion with the remark
that independence for Morocco (as for that matter, even aid to the Moroccan
nationalists) was "a gesture that would have been highly appreciated in Paris
and London." Of course, it is correct that France and Britain would hardly
have appreciated this development. As Berneri points out, "it goes without
saying that one cannot simultaneously guarantee French and British interests
in Morocco and carry out an insurrection." But Jackson's comment does not
touch on the central issue, namely, whether the Spanish revolution could
have been preserved, both from the fascists at the front and from the bourgeois-Communist
coalition within the Republic, by a revolutionary war of the sort that the
left proposed-or, for that matter, whether the Republic might not have been
saved by a political struggle that involved Franco's invading Moorish troops,
or at least eroded their morale. It is easy to see why Caballero was not
attracted by this bold scheme, given his reliance on the eventual backing
of the Western democracies. On the basis of what we know today, however,
Jackson's summary dismissal of revolutionary war is much too abrupt.
Furthermore, Bertoni's observations from the Huesca front are borne out by
much other evidence, some of it cited earlier. Even those who accepted the
Communist strategy of discipline and central control as necessary concede
that the repressions that formed an ineliminable part of this strategy "tended
to break the fighting spirit of the people." [64] One can only speculate,
but it seems to me that many commentators have seriously underestimated the
significance of the political factor, the potential strength of a popular
struggle to defend the achievements of the revolution. It is perhaps relevant
that Asturias, the one area of Spain where the system of CNT-UGT committees
was not eliminated in favor of central control, is also the one area where
guerrilla warfare continued well after Franco's victory. Broue and Temime
observe65 that the resistance of the partisans of Asturias "demonstrates
the depth of the revolutionary elan, which had not been shattered by the
reinstitution of state authority, conducted here with greater prudence."
There can be no doubt that the revolution was both widespread and deeply
rooted in the Spanish masses. It seems quite possible that a revolutionary
war of the sort advocated by Berneri would have been successful, despite
the greater military force of the fascist armies. The idea that men can over
come machines no longer seems as romantic or naive as it may have a few years
ago.
Furthermore, the trust placed in the bourgeois government by the anarchist
leaders was not honored, as the history of the counterrevolution clearly
shows. In retrospect, it seems that Berneri was correct in arguing that they
should not have taken part in the bourgeois government, but should rather
have sought to replace this government with the institutions created by the
revolution. [66] The anarchist minister Juan Garcia Oliver stated that "we
had confidence in the word and in the person of a Catalan democrat and retained
and supported Companys as President of the Generalitat," [67] at a time when
in Catalonia, at least, the workers' organizations could easily have replaced
the state apparatus and dispensed with the former political parties, as they
had replaced the old economy with an entirely new structure. Companys recognized
fully that there were limits beyond which he could not cooperate with the
anarchists. In an interview with H. E. Kaminski, he refused to specify these
limits, but merely expressed his hope that "the anarchist masses will not
oppose the good sense of their leaders," who have "accepted the responsibilities
incumbent upon them"; he saw his task as "directing these responsibilities
in the proper path," not further specified in the interview, but shown by
the events leading up to the May Days. [68] Probably, Companys attitude toward
this willingness of the anarchist leaders to cooperate was expressed accurately
in his reaction to the suggestion of a correspondent of the New Statesman
and Nation, who predicted that the assassination of the anarchist mayor of
Puigcerd would lead to a revolt: "[Companys] laughed scornfully and said
the anarchists would capitulate as they always had before." [69] As has already
been pointed out in some detail, the liberal-Communist party coalition had
no intention of letting the war against Franco take precedence over the crushing
of the revolution. A spokesman for Comorera put the matter clearly: "This
slogan has been attributed to the P.S.U.C.: 'Before taking Saragossa, it
is necessary to take Barcelona.' This reflects the situation exactly..."
[70] Comorera himself had, from the beginning, pressed Companys to resist
the CNT. [71] The first task of the antifascist coalition, he maintained,
was to dissolve the revolutionary committees. [72] I have already cited a
good deal of evidence indicating that the repression conducted by the Popular
Front seriously weakened popular commitment and involvement in the antifascist
war. What was evident to George Orwell was also clear to the Barcelona workers
and the peasants in the collectivized villages of Aragon: The liberal-Communist
coalition would not tolerate a revolutionary trans formation of Spanish society;
it would commit itself fully to the anti Franco struggle only after the old
order was firmly reestablished, by force, if necessary. [75]
There is little doubt that farm workers in the collectives understood quite
well the social content of the drive toward consolidation and central control.
We learn this not only from anarchist sources but also from the socialist
press in the spring of 1937. On May 1, the Socialist party newspaper Adelante
had the following to say:
"At the outbreak of the Fascist revolt the labor organizations and the democratic
elements in the country were in agreement that the so-called Nationalist
Revolution, which threatened to plunge our people into an abyss of deepest
misery, could be halted only by a Social Revolution. The Communist Party,
however, opposed this view with all its might. It had apparently completely
forgotten its old theories of a "workers' and peasants' republic" and a "dictatorship
of the proletariat." From its constant repetition of its new slogan of the
parliamentary democratic republic it is clear that it has lost all sense
of reality. When the Catholic and conservative sections of the Spanish bourgeoisie
saw their old system smashed and could find no way out, the Communist Party
instilled new hope into them. It assured them that the democratic bourgeois
republic for which it was pleading put no obstacles in the way of Catholic
propaganda and, above all, that it stood ready to defend the class interests
of the bourgeoisie." [74]
That this realization was widespread in the rural areas was underscored dramatically
by a questionnaire sent by Adelante to secretaries of the UGT Federation
of Land Workers, published in June 1937.75 The results are summarized as
follows:
"The replies to these questions revealed an astounding unanimity. Everywhere
the same story. The peasant collectives are today most vigorously opposed
by the Communist Party. The Communists organize the well-to-do farmers who
are on the lookout for cheap labor and are, for this reason, outspokenly
hostile to the cooperative undertakings of the poor peasants.
It is the element which before the revolution sympathized with the Fascists
and Monarchists which, according to the testimony of the trade-union representatives,
is now flocking into the ranks of the Communist Party. As to the general
effect of Communist activity on the country, the secretaries of the U.G.T.
had only one opinion, which the representative of the Valencia organization
put in these words: "It is a misfortune in the fullest sense of the word."
[76]
It is not difficult to imagine how the recognition of this "misfortune" must
have affected the willingness of the land workers to take part in the antifascist
war, with all the sacrifices that this entailed
The attitude of the central government to the revolution was brutally revealed
by its acts and is attested as well in its propaganda. A former minister
describes the situation as follows:
"The fact that is concealed by the coalition of the Spanish Communist Party
with the left Republicans and right wing Socialists is that there has been
a successful social revolution in half of Spain. Successful, that is, in
the collectivization of factories and farms which are operated under trade
union control, and operated quite efficiently. During the three months that
I was director of propaganda for the United States and England under Alvarez
del Vayo, then Foreign Minister for the Valencia Government, I was instructed
not to send out one word about this revolution in the economic system of
loyalist Spain. Nor are any foreign correspondents in Valencia permitted
to write freely of the revolution that has taken place." [77]
In short, there is much reason to believe that the will to fight Franco was
significantly diminished, perhaps destroyed, by the policy of authoritarian
centralization undertaken by the liberal-Communist coalition, carried through
by force, and disguised in the propaganda that was disseminated among Western
intellectuals [78] and that still dominates the writing of history. To the
extent that this is a correct judgment, the alternative proposed by Berneri
and the left "extremists" gains in plausibility.
As noted earlier, Caballero and the anarchist ministers accepted the policy
of counterrevolution because of their trust in the Western democracies, which
they felt sure would sooner or later come to their aid. This feeling was
perhaps understandable in 1937. It is strange, however, that a historian
writing in the 1960s should dismiss the proposal to strike at Franco's rear
by extending the revolutionary war to Morocco, on grounds that this would
have displeased Western capitalism (see p. 109 above).
Berneri was quite right in his belief that the Western democracies would
not take part in an antifascist struggle in Spain. In fact, their complicity
in the fascist insurrection was not slight. French bankers, who were generally
pro-Franco, blocked the release of Spanish gold to the loyalist government,
thus hindering the purchase of arms and, incidentally, increasing the reliance
of the Republic on the Soviet Union. [79] The policy of "nonintervention,"
which effectively blocked Western aid for the loyalist government while Hitler
and Mussolini in effect won the war for Franco, was also technically initiated
by the French government - though apparently under heavy British pressure.
[80]
As far as Great Britain is concerned, the hope that it would come to the
aid of the Republic was always unrealistic. A few days after the Franco coup,
the foreign editor of Paris-Soir wrote: "At least four countries are already
taking active interest in the battle-France, which is supporting the Madrid
Government, and Britain, Germany and Italy, each of which is giving discreet
but nevertheless effective assistance to one group or another among the insurgents."
[81] In fact, British support for Franco took a fairly concrete form at the
very earliest stages of the insurrection. The Spanish navy remained loyal
to the Republic, and made some attempt to prevent Franco from ferrying troops
from Morocco to Spain. Italian and German involvement in overcoming these
efforts is well documented; [82] the British role has received less attention,
but can be determined from contemporary reports. On August 11, 1936, the
New York Times carried a front-page report on British naval actions in the
Straits of Gibraltar, commenting that "this action helps the Rebels by preventing
attacks on Algeciras, where troops from Morocco land." (A few days earlier,
loyalist warships had bombarded Algeciras, damaging the British consulate.)
An accompanying dispatch from Gibraltar describes the situa tion as it appeared
from there:
"Angered by the Spanish factions' endangering of shipping and neutral Gibraltar
territory in their fighting, Great Britain virtually blockaded Gibraltar
Harbor last night with the huge battleship Queen Elizabeth in the center
of the entrance, constantly playing search lights on near-by waters.
Many British warships patrolled the entire Strait today, deter mined to prevent
interference with Britain's control over the entrance to the Mediterranean,
a vital place in the British "lifeline to the East."
This action followed repeated warnings to the Spanish Government and yesterday's
decree that no more fighting would be permitted in Gibraltar Harbor. The
British at Gibraltar had become increasingly nervous after the shelling of
Algeciras by the Loyalist battleship Jaime I.
Although British neutrality is still maintained, the patrol of the Strait
and the closing of the harbor will aid the military Rebels because Loyalist
warships cannot attempt to take Algeciras, now in Rebel hands, and completely
isolate the Rebels from Morocco. The Rebels now can release some troops,
who were rushed back to Algeciras, for duty further north in the drive for
Madrid.
It was reported in Gibraltar tonight that the Rebels had sent a transport
across the Strait and had landed more troops from Morocco for use in the
columns that are marching northward from headquarters at Seville.
This was the second time this year that Britain warned a power when she believed
her measure of Mediterranean control was threatened, and it remains to be
seen whether the Madrid Government will flout the British as the Italians
did. If it attempts to do so, the British gunners of the Gibraltar fort have
authority to fire warning shots. What will happen if such shots go unheeded
is obvious.
All the British here refer to the Madrid Government as the "Communists" and
there is no doubt where British sympathies now lie, encouraged by the statement
of General Francisco Franco, leader of the Rebels, that he is not especially
cooperating with Italy.
The British Government has ordered Spaniards here to cease plotting or be
expelled and has asked Britons "loyally to refrain from either acting or
speaking publicly in such a manner as to display marked partiality or partisanship."
The warning, issued in the official Gibraltar Gazette, was signed by the
British Colonial Secretary here.
The warning was issued after reports of possible Communist troubles here
had reached official ears and after strong complaints that Spanish Rebels
were in Gibraltar. It was said Rebels were mak ing headquarters here and
entering La Linea to fight." [My italics]
I have quoted this dispatch in full because it conveys rather accurately
the character of British "'neutrality" in the early stages of the war and
thence forth. In May 1938, the British ambassador to Spain, Sir Henry Chilton,
"expressed the conviction that a Franco victory was necessary for peace in
Spain; that there was not the slightest chance that Italy and/or Germany
would dominate Spain; and that even if it were possible for the Spanish Government
to win (which he did not believe) he was convinced that a victory for Franco
would be better for Great Britain." [85] Churchill, who was at first violently
opposed to the Republic, modified his position somewhat after the crushing
of the revolution in the summer of 1937. What particularly pleased him was
the forceful repression of the anarchists and the militarization of the Republic
(necessary when "the entire structure of civilization and social life is
destroyed," as it had been by the revolution, now happily subdued). [84]
However, his good feelings toward the Republic remained qualified. In an
interview of August 14, 1938, he expressed himself as follows: "Franco has
all the right on his side because he loves his country. Also Franco is defending
Europe against the Communist danger-if you wish to put it in those terms.
But I, I am English, and I prefer the triumph of the wrong cause. I prefer
that the other side wins, because Franco could be an upset or a threat to
British interests, and the others no." [85]
The Germans were quite aware of British sentiments, naturally, and therefore
were much concerned that the supervisory committee for the nonintervention
agreement be located in London rather than Paris. The German Foreign Ministry
official responsible for this matter expressed his view on August 29, 1936,
as follows: "Naturally, we have to count on complaints of all kinds being
brought up in London regarding failure to observe the obligation not to intervene,
but we cannot avoid such complaints in any case. It can, in fact, only be
agreeable to us if the center of gravity, which after all has thus far been
in Paris because of the French initiative, is transferred to London." [86]
They were not disappointed. In November, Foreign Secretary Anthony Eden stated
in the House of Commons: "So far as breaches [of the nonintervention agreement]
are concerned, I wish to state categorically that I think there are other
Governments more to blame than those of Germany and Italy." [87] There was
no factual basis for this statement, but it did reflect British attitudes.
It is interesting that, according to German sources, England was at that
time supplying Franco with munitions through Gibraltar and, at the same time,
providing information to Germany about Russian arms deliveries to the Republic.
[88]
The British left was for the most part in support of the liberal-Communist
coalition, regarding Caballero as an "infantile leftist" and the anarchists
as generally unspeakable.
The British policy of mild support for Franco was to be successful in preserving
British interests in Spain, as the Germans soon discovered. A German Foreign
Ministry note of October 1937 to the embassy in Nationalist Spain included
the following observation: "That England cannot permanently be kept from
the Spanish market as in the past is a fact with which we have to reckon.
England's old relations with the Spanish mines and the Generalissimo's desire,
based on political and economic considerations, to come to an understanding
with England place certain limits on our chances of reserving Spanish raw
materials to ourselves permanently." [89]
One can only speculate as to what might have been the effects of British
support for the Republic. A discussion of this matter would take us far afield,
into a consideration of British diplomacy during the late 1930s. It is perhaps
worth mention, now that the "Munich analogy" is being bandied about in utter
disregard for the historical facts by Secretary Rusk and a number of his
academic supporters, that "containment of Communism" was not a policy invented
by George Kennan in 1947. Specifically it was a dominant theme in the diplomacy
of the 1930s. In 1934, Lloyd George stated that "in a very short time, perhaps
in a year, perhaps in two, the conservative elements in this country will
be look ing to Germany as the bulwark against Communism in Europe. ... Do
not let us be in a hurry to condemn Germany. We shall be welcoming Germany
as our friend." [90] In September 1938, the Munich agreement was concluded;
shortly after, both France and Britain did welcome Germany as "our friend."
As noted earlier (see note 53), even Churchill's role at this time is subject
to some question. Of course, the Munich agreement was the death knell for
the Spanish Republic, exactly as the necessity to rely on the Soviet Union
signaled the end of the Spanish revolution in 1937.
The United States, like France, exhibited less initiative in these events
than Great Britain, which had far more substantial economic interests in
Spain and was more of an independent force in European affairs. Nevertheless,
the American record is hardly one to inspire pride. Technically the United
States adhered to a position of strict neutrality. How ever, a careful look
raises some doubts. According to information obtained by Jackson, ""the American
colonel who headed the Telephone Company had placed private lines at the
disposal of the Madrid plotters for their conversations with Generals Mola
and Franco," [91] just prior to the insurrection on July 17. In August, the
American government urged the Martin Aircraft Company not to honor an agreement
made prior to the insurrection to supply aircraft to the Republic, and it
also pressured the Mexican government not to reship to Spain war materials
purchased in the United States. [92] An American arms exporter, Robert Cuse,
insisted on his legal right to ship airplanes and aircraft engines to the
Republic in December 1936, and the State Department was forced to grant authorization.
Cuse was denounced by Roosevelt as unpatriotic, though Roosevelt was forced
to admit that the request was quite legal. Roosevelt contrasted the attitude
of other businessmen to that of Cuse as follows:
"Well, these companies went along with the request of the Government. There
is the 90 percent of business that is honest, I mean ethically honest. There
is the 90 percent we are always pointing at with pride. And then one man
does what amounts to a perfectly legal but thoroughly unpatriotic act. He
represents the 10 percent of business that does not live up to the best standards.
Excuse the homily, but I feel quite deeply about it." [95]
Among the businesses that remained "ethically honest" and therefore did not
incur Roosevelt's wrath was the Texas Company (now Texaco), which violated
its contracts with the Spanish Republic and shipped oil instead to Franco.
(Five tankers that were on the high seas in July 1936 were diverted to Franco,
who received six million dollars worth of oil on credit during the Civil
War.) Apparently, neither the press nor the American government was able
to discover this fact, though it was reported in left-wing journals at the
time. [94] There is evidence that the American government shared the fears
of Churchill and others about the dangerous forces on the Republican side.
Secretary of State Cordell Hull, for example, informed Roosevelt on July
23, 1936, that "one of the most serious factors in this situation lies in
the fact that the [Spanish] Government has distributed large quantities of
arms and ammunition into the hands of irresponsible members of left-wing
political organizations." [95]
Like Churchill, many responsible Americans began to rethink their attitude
toward the Republic after the social revolution had been crushed. [96] However,
relations with Franco continued cordial. In 1957, President Eisenhower congratulated
Franco on the "happy anniversary" of his rebellion, [97] and Secretary Rusk
added his tribute in 1961. Upon criticism, Rusk was defended by the American
ambassador to Madrids who observed that Spain is "a nation which understands
the implacable nature of the communist threat," [98] like Thailand, South
Korea, Taiwan, and selected other countries of the Free World. [99]
In the light of such facts as these, it seems to me that Jackson is not treating
the historical record seriously when he dismisses the proposals of the Spanish
left as absurd. Quite possibly Berneri's strategy would have failed, as did
that of the liberal-Communist coalition that took over the Republic. It was
far from senseless, however. I think that the failure of historians to consider
it more seriously follows, once again, from the elitist bias that dominates
the writing of history-and, in this case, from a certain sentimentality about
the Western democracies.
The study of collectivization published by the CNT in 1937 [100] concludes
with a description of the village of Membrilla. "In its miserable huts
live the poor inhabitants of a poor province; eight thousand people, but
the streets are not paved, the town has no newspaper, no cinema, neither
a cafe nor a library. On the other hand, it has many churches that have been
burned." Immediately after the Franco insurrection, the land was expropriated
and village life collectivized. "Food, clothing, and tools were distributed
equitably to the whole population. Money was abolished, work collectivized,
all goods passed to the community, consumption was socialized. It was, however,
not a socialization of wealth but of poverty." Work continued as before.
An elected council appointed committees to organize the life of the commune
and its relations to the outside world. The necessities of life were distributed
freely, insofar as they were available. A large number of refugees were accommodated.
A small library was established, and a small school of design.
The document closes with these words:
"The whole population lived as in a large family; functionaries, delegates,
the secretary of the syndicates, the members of the municipal council, all
elected, acted as heads of a family. But they were controlled, because special
privilege or corruption would not be tolerated. Membrilla is perhaps the
poorest village of Spain, but it is the most just."
An account such as this, with its concern for human relations and the ideal
of a just society, must appear very strange to the consciousness of the sophisticated
intellectual, and it is therefore treated with scorn, or taken to be naive
or primitive or otherwise irrational. Only when such prejudice is abandoned
will it be possible for historians to undertake a serious study of the popular
movement that transformed Republican Spain in one of the most remarkable
social revolutions that history records.
Franz Borkenau, in commenting on the demoralization caused by the authoritarian
practices of the central government, observes (p. 295) that "newspapers are
written by Europeanized editors, and the popular move ment is inarticulate
as to its deepest impulses . . . [which are shown only] . . . by acts." The
objectivity of scholarship will remain a delusion as long as these inarticulate
impulses remain beyond its grasp. As far as the Spanish revolution is concerned,
its history is yet to be written.
I have concentrated on one theme-the interpretation of the social revolution
in Spain-in one work of history, a work that is an excellent example of liberal
scholarship. It seems to me that there is more than enough evidence to show
that a deep bias against social revolution and a commitment to the values
and social order of liberal bourgeois democracy has led the author to misrepresent
crucial events and to overlook major historical currents. My intention has
not been to bring into question the commitment to these values-that is another
matter entirely. Rather, it has been to show how this commitment has led
to a striking fiailure of objectivity, providing a particularly subtle and
interesting example of "counterrevolutionary subordination."
In opening this discussion of the Spanish revolution, I referred to the classical
left-wing critique of the social role of intellectuals, Marxist or otherwise,
in modern society, and to Luxemburg's reservations regarding Bolshevism.
Western sociologists have repeatedly emphasized the relevance of this analysis
to developments in the Soviet Union, [101] with much justice. The same sociologists
formulate "the world revolution of the epoch" in the following terms: "The
major transformation is the decline of business (and of earlier social formations)
and the rise of intellectuals and semi-intellectuals to effective power."
[102] The "ultra-left" critic foresaw in these developments a new attack
on human freedom and a more efficient system of exploitation. The Western
sociologist sees in the rise of intellectuals to effective power the hope
for a more humane and smoothly functioning society, in which problems can
be solved by "piece meal technology." Who has the sharper eye? At least this
much is plain: there are dangerous tendencies in the ideology of the welfare-state
intelligentsia who claim to possess the technique and understanding required
to manage our "postindustrial society" and to organize an international society
dominated by American superpower. Many of these dangers are revealed, at
a purely ideological level, in the study of the counterrevolutionary subordination
of scholarship. The dangers exist both insofar as the claim to knowledge
is real and insofar as it is fraudulent. Insofar as the technique of management
and control exists, it can be used to consolidate the authority of those
who exercise it and to diminish spontaneous and free experimentation with
new social forms, as it can limit the possibilities for reconstruction of
society in the interests of those who are now, to a greater or lesser extent,
dispossessed. Where the techniques fail, they will be supplemented by all
of the methods of coercion that modern technology provides, to preserve order
and stability.
For a glimpse of what may lie ahead, consider the Godkin lectures of McGeorge
Bundy, recently delivered at Harvard. [105] Bundy urges that more power be
concentrated in the executive branch of the government, now "dangerously
weak in relation to its present tasks." That the powerful executive will
act with justice and wisdom-this presumably needs no argument. As an example
of the superior executive who should be at tracted to government and given
still greater power, Bundy cites Robert McNamara. Nothing could reveal more
clearly the dangers inherent in the "new society" than the role that McNamara's
Pentagon has played for the past half dozen years. No doubt McNamara succeeded
in doing with utmost efficiency that which should not be done at all. No
doubt he has shown an unparalleled mastery of the logistics of coercion and
repression, combined with the most astonishing inability to comprehend political
and human factors. The efficiency of the Pentagon is no less remarkable than
its pratfalls. [104] When understanding fails, there is always more force
in reserve. As the "experiments in material and human re sources control"
collapse and "revolutionary development" grinds to a halt, we simply resort
more openly to the Gestapo tactics that are barely concealed behind the facade
of "pacification." [105] When American cities explode, we can expect the
same. The technique of "limited warfare" translates neatly into a system
of domestic repression-far more humane, as will quickly be explained, than
massacring those who are unwilling to wait for the inevitable victory of
the war on poverty.
Why should a liberal intellectual be so persuaded of the virtues of a political
system of four-year dictatorship? The answer seems all too plain.
Objectivity and Liberal Scholarship has extensive, detailed footnotes
which have not been uploaded. They can be found in the print version,
which can be found in copies of American Power and the New Mandarins,
The Chomsky Reader, or the stand alone version.