By Ernesto Aguilar
Political Affairs Magazine
From
the moment Marxists and anarchists parted ways in 1872, the peculiar
and occasionally rancorous tension between the divergent schools of
socialism has been the subject of many a debate, study group and
protest. For anarchists, as Mikhail Bakunin articulated, Marxism’s
ascension would virtually necessitate it would become as oppressive as
the capitalist state. For Marxists, anarchism’s impulse to support no
one having power meant the well-connected in-crowd, mostly well-heeled
and white, would exert their power in other ways and with the tacit
support of the core of the people. From these early conflicts came years
of characterizations – as often fair as misguided – of a host of
Anarchism’s motivations and political aspirations, and about organizing
and the lack thereof.
Still, it would be a sin of omission
to avoid saying there was not at least a hint of admiration at times on
the part of Marxists for anarchism’s flair for harnessing the creative
energies of youth, or by anarchists, who secretly desired to have the
credibility to organize broadly, with clarity and among communities of
color. The admiration is spotty though. Marxism and anarchism have
historically had a love-hate relationship as impassioned and tragic as
anything Euripides ever penned.
Anti-globalization currents,
and both tendencies’ struggles to turn early protests into a massive
anti-capitalist mobilization, have rekindled discussions of the kind
found in Wobblies and Zapatistas: Conversations on Anarchism, Marxism
and Radical History. Granted, few of these dialogues have involved
luminaries of Staughton Lynd’s stature, yet they represent a starting
place – not only about differences, but also about commonalities, shared
values, and hopes for a better world.
Wobblies and
Zapatistas puts Lynd at the table with Andrej Grubacic, a Northern
California anarchist by way of the Balkans, for extensive exchanges
about history, political theory and practical reality. Removed from
these talks are some of the stranger hues of Marxism and anarchism –
extreme sectarianism and “post left” posturing among them – nor is this
book intended to blast one idea or the other. Instead, Lynd and Grubacic
are aiming squarely for those looking to build bridges between the two
camps.
Their conversation about the Zapatistas’ militancy
emerges an intriguing discourse, flowing throughout the book, about how
politics over the last generation has fundamentally changed. For this
reason, how activists and radical partisans in the struggle see
themselves and their orientations must also change, with an eye to
rejecting old labels. This is not a new revelation. The New Left has
postulated such ideas for some time, and the aforementioned
anti-globalization clashes and demonstrations have often eschewed
ideological tags. In Lynd and Grubacic’s estimation, internationalism is
as much of the heart as it is about politics. One could derisively call
this misty idealism, although one cannot discount the earnestness of
such beliefs.
Both are correct in seeing the importance of
“big-picture” ideas when it comes to putting forward a political vision.
For example, proclaiming that Joe Hill would have seen himself as a
Palestinian conjures up effective imagery, and a fertile discussion
arises from this point. Lynd seems to acknowledge the amount of work
that remains to be done when he argues that the movements of today face
difficulties concerning strategy. Compare this with the South’s fight
over African American disenfranchisement and the North’s battle against
the war in Vietnam in the 1960s-70s, which galvanized disparate forces.
Yet, the bulk of the book suggests a bigger problem is the reliance on
old ways of doing thins. What gets a little downplayed here is an
assessment of the amount of work involved in moving towards these
“big-picture” moments.
Lynd’s remark that anarchism and
Marxism are not mutually exclusive alternatives, but Hegelian moments
split by personality clashes with the First International, seem
simplistic, and comments in the book too often dismissively reduce
significant and substantive splits to mere sleights of hand. At the same
time, engaging critiques, such as seeing anti-imperialism not as a
rejection of everything American but as embracing the best in American
radical traditions, abound. Reexaminations of the Haymarket affair and
the Industrial Workers of the World (“the Zapatistas of yesteryear,” as
Lynd calls them) are sure to make one look upon these memorable
revolutionary surges in a new light. Chalk that up to Lynd’s take on
history, which is richly textured and buoyed by the weight of
experience.
One cannot address the ideas presented here
without appreciating Lynd’s remarkable life. From his expulsion from the
military to his directorship of the Student Nonviolent Coordinating
Committee’s Freedom Schools, to his engagement in the Youngstown steel
mill struggle in the 1970s and beyond, Lynd has been a critical figure
on the left. He has also been a vibrant socialist, albeit one who has
embraced socialism’s diversity over dogmatism. His genuine love for
humanity shines through, and it is doubtful such a that this dialogue
could be so arresting without his compassion.
Noted German
statesman Otto von Bismarck was famously quoted as saying after the
First International split that “crowned heads, wealth and privilege may
well tremble should ever again the black and red unite.” In the pages of
Wobblies and Zapatistas, such a possibility seems not so far away.
Back to Denis O’Hearn’s Author Page | Back to Staughton Lynd’s Author Page | Back to Andrej Grubacic’s Author Page
