After my brief foray into styles of writing, let me continue my series on the future of the left. Jeremy Gilbert and Hilary Wainwright are 2 writers I very much respect – the first for his Common Ground – democracy and collectivity in an age of individualism (2014), the second for her Public Service Reform – but not as we know it (2009). Here I’m offering two (shorter) books by these 2 authors - first
A
New Politics from the Left
Hilary
Wainwright (2018). Only
89 pages!
By
the late 1950s, however, a ‘new
left’ was emerging, mainly among the intelligentsia
broadly defined – media professionals and self-educated
workingclass intellectuals, as well as academics – that rejected
both sides of the Cold War. It was 1956, with Soviet tanks on the
streets of Budapest and British ships and troops in the Suez Canal,
that was the catalyst. One of the new left’s most eloquent early
voices was E. P. Thompson. With the instincts of the social historian,
he was attentive to what was happening beneath the surface of the institutions
of the Cold War. While the international show of the Stalinist Soviet bloc
versus NATO and the capitalist West proceeded, he noticed the young people
who had slunk out of the theatre to make their own music on the
streets.
Prompted
by ‘the positives of Aldermaston and the negatives of ‘“hip”
and the
“beats”’,
he spied a new critical temper. It offered a future outside the
political
culture
shaped by the Cold War. ‘Beneath the polarisation of power and
ideology
in
the Cold War world’, he wrote, ‘a new, rebellious human nature
was being
formed,
just as the new grass springs up beneath the snow’. In
“The Making of the English Working Class”, Thompson, writing of
the 1820s in a comparable period of retreat and defeat and mild
prosperity, quotes a London artisan alerting nineteenth-century
historian Henry Mayhew: ‘People fancy that when all’s quiet that
all’s stagnating. Propaganda is going on for all that. It’s when
all’s quiet that the seed’s a-growing. Republicans and Socialists
are pressing their doctrines.’
The
quiet decades of the 1950s and early 1960s were the years in which
workers’ strength and organization in the workplace began to grow,
benefiting from the bargaining power of the economic boom and
creating the conditions for an increasingly militant workplace trade
unionism, with some autonomy from the
alliance
of trade union leaders with the parliamentary Labour Party (PLP);
years
in
which networked activists against the nuclear bomb converged to
create the
Aldermaston
Marches, through which, every Easter weekend, over 50,000
marchers
from all parts of the left and dissenting opinion created a radical
left
politics
independent of political parties (though periodically engaging with
it)
and
a space in which politics and culture came together creatively and
experimentally
– even renewing, through the Committee of 100 and the
campaign
against regional seats of post-nuclear government, the tradition of
direct
action. They
were years in which film-makers documented everyday
working-class
life, its ingenuity and its forms of cultural rebellion; in which
Simone
de Beauvoir’s Second Sex gave women marginalized by domesticity and
subordinated by Hollywood culture the confidence to experiment with
autonomy and ways of living that refused male domination; in which
popular music provided a language for escaping the narrow constraints
of conventional values and morals. Fertile ground, then, for the
burgeoning new left which was, in its own way, searching to theorize
both the failures and defeats of the Russian
Revolution
and the limits of Labourism.
By
the end of the 1960s, and most visibly in the rebellions of 1968, a
new
consciousness
was emerging among the generation that did not itself experience the
war, that benefited from the material advantages and expanded
educational opportunities of the welfare state and, as if echoing
their victorious forebears, expected something more than material
security. In different ways, they demanded democratic control and,
drawing on the new traditions of direct
action,
took autonomous initiatives to achieve it, whether as students,
workers,
women,
tenants, or civic activists more generally. In particular, the bond
between
knowledge
and authority, which was at the centre of the benevolent paternalism
of
the post-war settlement, was in their sights and began to be broken.
Moreover,
the new contradictions – distinctive to post-war capitalism –
posed
problems
to which the previous nostrums of socialism, as it was known then,
also
had no adequate answer: socialism had become rather vague and
confused after the experiences of communism and the nationalizations
of the Attlee government. So these were also years of searching,
questioning and
experimenting
with alternatives in the here and now, rather than promoting a
ready-made
programme.
It
was not until 1973 that anything remotely comparable with the levels
of selfconfidence and radicalization seen in the 1940s flowed through
the institutions of the Labour Party again. At that time, it was a
result of wider economic and social processes rather than inner-party
dynamics. Debates within the Labour Party followed the impact of the
growing self-confidence, expectations and militancy of shop-floor
trade unionism, together with the reverberations of the anti-colonial
liberation movements, the events of 1968 and the assertive rebellions
of the first post-war generation as students, women, gay people,
black people and other subordinated groups. They wanted more than the
material security they had come to take for granted and were seeking
to transform the power relations towards which they no longer had
deference.
The second book is Twenty
First Century Socialism
Jeremy
Gilbert (2020) 116
pages
Capitalism is characterised by the unlimited pursuit of capital
accumulation, by the tendency to commodify resources and social
relations, and by the tendency to generate a plutocracy. It’s quite
common to refer to a society in which these tendencies predominate as
a ‘capitalist society’. This is a useful shorthand. But it’s
worth sounding
a note of caution here. The idea that we live in a ‘capitalist
society’ can often lead to the assumption that ‘capitalism’ is
a totally integrated and self-enclosed system, which subsumes every
element of contemporary social life.
Some
theorists have certainly seen it this way. But this can be
misleading. We live in societies in which capitalism has some effect
on every aspect of social life and presents an obstacle to the
realisation of many social goals. But there are
all kinds of things going on all the time that are not capitalism,
from teaching in public schools to the commercial activity of
medium-sized businesses or to ordinary
interaction between friends. Capitalists are absolutely committed to
finding ways of using all these activities for the purpose of
accumulating capital: they sell services to schools, lend money to
businesses, mine every online conversation for data. But those
activities can carry on perfectly well without capitalists or capital
accumulation.
This
is why, when we make statements such as ‘we live in a capitalist
society’, we should be careful. This can give the impression that
the only way in which we could emancipate ourselves from capitalism
at all would be to overturn
completely the social system we inhabit. There might be times and situations
when this is true. But there might also be times when resisting the
encroachment of capitalism doesn’t require such total
transformation. Sometimes it can simply mean creating, defending or
building up institutions that
are not organised along capitalist lines – public libraries,
non-commercial broadcasters, cooperatively owned social media
platforms, the National Health Service, and so on – and pushing
back against the inevitable capitalist
attempt to take them over.
I do not, however, recommend Warring Fictions – left populism
and its defining myths Christopher Clarke (2019) - a book which,
for some reason, has 2 different titles – the other being
“Dark Knight and the Pupper Master”. Clarke is a journalist and
son of Charles who was a minister in the Blair/Brown governments and his right-wing
credentials are very much on display in the book which excoriates
Jeremy Corbyn.
There
are three belief systems which sustain these new movements.
The
first is the belief in a common enemy – ‘us versus them’.
Populists rely on a malign foe.
The
second is an anti-establishment default.3 Populists imply that
omnipotent and self-serving elites block the ‘will of the people’.
The
third is a sense of decline – often expressed through opposition
to growing inter-dependence between countries. This lends urgency to
the populist cause.
Drilling
down, there are three key areas where we perceive things differently.
These can be summed up by three myths, which the far left holds dear
and the centre left mistrusts.
The
first myth is the Dark Knight, which concerns morality and the
political spectrum. The far left usually believes the right is
motivated by self-interest or spite. As a result, they regard as
immoral many of the causes, methods, interests and institutions which
they think are closer to the right. The centre left doesn’t tend to
interpret issues through this lens.
The
second is the Puppet Master, which concerns power and society.
The far left often believes that society’s problems are coordinated
and deliberately created by those in power. The centre left, by
contrast, leans towards chaos-based explanations, and is less
suspicious of government.
The
third myth is the Golden Era. This relates to change, decline
and the past. The far left’s interpretation is usually that society
is becoming increasingly right-wing, and has been for decades. The
centre left is inclined to see the positives in globalisation, or to
feel Labour has made as many advances as retreats.
Whether
we believe in these myths governs our approach, and how we try to
turn values into strategies and policies.
Other
relevant posts
https://nomadron.blogspot.com/2025/10/making-sense-of-left.html