As Engels had already made clear with his insights into military matters, and as Lenin and the Bolsheviks realised with a shock after the Potemkin incident (which drew them to Engels’s material), and as Mao was fully aware with his efforts to develop a revolutionary army, a communist revolution needs a well-trained Red Army. All of this is embodied in Alexander Sorokin’s ‘Voroshilovsky Shooter’, from the Ukrainian Soviet Socialist Republic, made during the immensely creative 1930s in the Soviet Union (ht cp).
‘Do you think Europe – especially Scandinavia – is more socialist than China?’
This question used to be more common 7 or 8 years ago. But it came up recently while I was in Yunnan province, in the far southwest of China. It is of course connected with the impression that Scandinavia had a developed welfare system, which some seem to think indicates a socialist influence. And Scandinavians love to cite this one, although by now it is wearing quite thin.
The ‘Scandinavia had’ is quite deliberate in my earlier sentence, but to understand why requires a brief history.
The first country in human history to develop what I have elsewhere called a ‘domestic state’ was the Soviet Union. It happened under Stalin’s watch. In the 1920s, many regulations had been promulgated concerning education, healthcare, pregnancy preparation, maternity leave, childcare, divorce, guardianship and so on (although not unemployment benefits, since there soon was full employment) – the full gamut of matters that had been regarded until then as the domain of the ‘family’, no matter how extended it may have been. But it was only in the 1930s that they could be enacted in a realistic manner. Why? Only with the massive ‘socialist offensive’, with its twin programs of comprehensive industrialisation and agricultural collectivisation, did the Soviet Union have the economic resources to implement them in full. This is not to say that many problems did not happen, for the Soviet Union was making a tumultuous leap to becoming a superpower. As Mao put it later, ‘Progress and at the same time difficulties – this is a contradiction’ (1957). But the contradiction was a feature of a leap into the future.
What did some of the capitalist countries do? They realised that workers were increasingly drawn to the Soviet Union’s model. So the bourgeois governments borrowed some features and sought to institute what became known as the ‘welfare state’. But it was a warped version, predicated on the slogan, ‘from the cradle to the grave’. The state would take care of you, especially if matters beyond your control dealt you a bad hand.
Why warped? The way it was implemented in Europe (and even in the United States for a while with the ‘new deal’) was to neutralise any push by workers and peasants to alter the system itself. A bourgeois state would provide, so why bother with any revolutionary desires. Even more, it became a mechanism for ensuring that everyone in the state’s population remained – or could be retrained – to be productive, and thereby also remain consumers. Crucially, this altered form of the welfare state was restricted to full citizens, producing the framework for the xenophobic charge that ‘immigrants’ want to avail themselves of the benefits of a system to which they were not entitled.
This history has a further twist or two. After the symbolic ‘fall’ of the Berlin Wall in 1989, most countries that had a version of the bourgeois welfare state no longer felt the need to support it. The alternative model of the Soviet Union had imploded, so country after country systematically began to dismantle the ‘welfare state’. So-called ‘cheats’ became the target, such as the demonised ‘single mother’ with multiple offspring who ‘milked’ the system for her benefit. The rhetoric was relentless, ensuring that one plank after another of the bourgeois welfare state was removed. Even Scandinavia began to follow suit, albeit belatedly with the turn of the millennium.
Meanwhile, what was happening in China? Let us deal with the facts rather than mythology. After the communist revolution, a system had developed that may be called ‘Owenite’ (after Robert Owen’s model factories in the UK of the 19th century). Large conglomerates were established, around factories, publication houses, state-owned-enterprises (SOEs) and so on. In these conglomerates, people had everything: accommodation, jobs, dining halls, hospitals, shops, childcare facilities, funeral services … It was dubbed the ‘iron rice bowl’ – a term that originated outside China.
But they were grossly inefficient, sucking up resources, breeding familial corruption and giving little back to the overall system. In the 1980s and into the 1990s, Deng Xiaoping bit the bullet: the conglomerates would have to face the realities not of a ‘planned economy’ but of a ‘socialist market economy’ that has its own distinct Chinese articulation. Many went bankrupt, since they could not manage in the new order. Others thrived, like the Xinhua News Agency. In the process, mistakes were made: workers lost their jobs and were not compensated; farmers lost the healthcare to which they had become accustomed; retirees could no longer rely on the conglomerate to provide for them.
China first had to get its economic act together. As it did so and the resources became available, a whole new system began to be implemented. Farmers who had lost healthcare found a different model in its place. Retirees began to notice that the state was offering a leaner and more efficient system for their security. Workers who had lost their jobs were compensated. In short, a new model of the socialist welfare state was being systematically and carefully rolled out, with an eye on accountability and efficiency. But it goes much further, with a concentrated effort to lift the final 30 million people out of poverty. In short, it is clear that the socialist state has to ensure that it has the resources before implementing such policies.
The upshot: in the current situation we find ourselves at an important crossroads. As the neo-classical model of a capitalist market economy seeks to dismantle ever more vestiges of a bourgeois welfare state that was a response to the appeal of the Soviet Union (of increasingly distant memory), China is gradually and patiently implementing a whole new version of a socialist welfare state.
It should be no surprise that over 87 percent of people in China approve of the direction in which the most powerful socialist country in human history is headed, even while fully aware of the many problems they face.
One of the under-appreciated achievements of the Soviet Union, especially in the 1930s, was what may be called the domestic state. By this term, I mean that the state sees itself as very much involved in what were traditionally regarded as domestic roles centred around the care and nurturing of children. This of course entails active efforts to reconstruct a whole gamut of human relationships, relating to marriage, divorce, guardianship, preparation for childbirth, medicine and education. I will discuss these developments in a moment, but first I need to address a feature of works that do analyse these developments: the suggestion that the (legal) achievements of the 1920s were systematically undone in the 1930s in what constitutes a ‘great retreat’. According to this narrative, the Soviet government instituted a range of stunningly progressive measures in the 1920s relating to marriage, divorce, abortion and childcare, only to repeal them by the end of the 1930s. I beg to differ. The actual situation requires two distinctions. The first is between legal and economic developments. Legal prescriptions may be one thing, but they have little effect without the economic means to carry them out. In the 1920s, the state simply did not have the resources to carry out the measures needed for domestic state. By the 1930s, with the massive industrialisation and collectivisation campaigns of the ‘socialist offensive’, the state finally had the economic resources to do so. This development leads to the second distinction, between reshaping domestic roles within families and taking on those domestic roles. The prescriptions of the 1920s attempted the former, with limited success and unexpected consequences, while the measures of the 1930s sought to address such shortcomings by becoming in effect a domestic state. Not only did this approach arise from the awareness that human families are not so good at raising children, but also from the basic assumption concerning the role of the state in taking over domestic matters.
The idea of a ‘great retreat’ in the 1930s, a giving up or even betrayal of the radical socialist policies of the 1920s, was first propagated 70 years ago by Timasheff (1946 ). Others have followed suit (Reichman 1988, 74, Fitzpatrick 1994, 148-72), not least with regard to marriage and the closely connected role of women (Goldman 1993). Indeed, the various government laws from 1917 to 1944 may give such an impression. The first was actually comprised of two brief decrees in December 1917 and ratified by the Supreme Soviet in 1918 as the Code on Marriage, the Family and Guardianship. It swept away centuries of practice, tore control away from the Churches, and made marriage a purely civil procedure. Divorce could be requested by both partners or by either spouse, which entailed a simple court hearing. No guilt had to be established, no grounds, no witnesses and no evidence. The notion of illegitimacy for children was abolished and the maintenance of children was decided by the courts. At the same time, the code preserved elements from earlier tsarist times, such as age of consent, alimony, child support and other features of the family unit.
The code of 1918 was always seen as a temporary measure, for the underlying drive was nothing less than the ‘withering away’ of the family (as with the state) as a repressive institution. A significant feature not addressed by this law was the status of de facto spouses, which was a common practice among revolutionaries. This the 1926 code – of the same name – sought to address. If the 1918 code was already ahead of its time, the 1926 version was even more so. De facto couples were given legal status, with a beginning (coming to live together), sexual content (cohabitation), economic content (joint household), and economic outcomes of divorce (division of property and support). Indeed, a de facto relationship also entailed the issue of divorce, which was further simplified. Thus, if one partner did not appear at the Office of Civil Registry (ZAGS), he or she would be sent an official notice – which became known as the ‘postcard divorce’. The results of this radical law were somewhat unexpected and even unwelcome. Divorces skyrocketed, reaching at times a ratio of 4 divorces for every 5 marriages. Many were the women who were finally able to escape oppressive marriages, but many more were the men who transferred serial sexual relationships into legal form, even when child support and alimony were a crucial part of the law. Indeed, it was men who made the most of the new laws and stretched them as far as possible. The joke was that one could go to work married in the morning and return home divorced in the evening (Stites 1978, 370).
The narrative of retreat usually lists the 1926 code as the highest achievement of socialist marriage law, with a downhill path from here. Following a sustained campaign against the irresponsibility of divorced men, especially those who avoided paying alimony, a new law was passed in 1936. It made divorce somewhat more difficult (higher costs and an end to ‘postcard’ divorces), increased the punishment to prison for non-payment of alimony, prohibited abortion, and – this will become important – increased the number of childcare facilities. Those who see this law as a step backwards typically focus on the question of abortion, with its prison sentences for doctors who performed abortions and even more for non-medical abortions. By contrast, women who undertook abortion received censure for the first and a 300 rouble fine for the second. The law also provided considerable support for women: increase in insurance for birth, increase of child support from 5 to 10 roubles a month, four months of paid pregnancy leave, and harsh penalties for employers who refused to hire a pregnant woman or lowered her pay. And the law significantly increased the number of maternity clinics, day-care centres, crèches and milk kitchens. The narrative of retreat concludes with the Family Code of 1944, which withdrew the recognition of de facto marriage, banned paternity suits, reintroduced the notion of illegitimacy, and returned divorce proceedings to the courts (rather than the Office of Civil Registry).
The problem with this narrative is that the 1930s constituted not a ‘retreat’ from the breakneck remaking of Soviet economy, society and culture but a consolidation of the achievements made and an opportunity to address the significant new problems that had arisen. As Martin writes, ‘in the political and economic spheres, the period after 1933 marked a consolidation, rather than a repudiation, of the most important goals of Stalin’s socialist offensive’ (Martin 2001, 415, see also Priestland 2007, 245-49).
So what was happening? The 1930s actually witnessed the most profound transformation in Russian history, perhaps even more momentous than the October Revolution. This was the ‘socialist offensive’, embodied in the dual industrialisation and collectivisation drive of the two five-year plans from 1928 to 1937. The much studied details of this drive are not my direct concern here, except to note that they were generated out of the backwardness of Russian economics, the internal contradictions of the rapidly changing economic situation and the effort to construct socialism from scratch. The outcome was astonishing, with the Soviet Union emerging in a breathtakingly short period of time as an economic superpower, albeit with significant social disruption and not a little violence.
This situation was both enabled by and produced a profound bifurcation in economic and social life. Many, if not the majority, were those who enthusiastically embraced the production of a new life, even among the rural population (Siegelbaum 1988, 17, Scott 1989 , Kuromiya 1990, Thurston 1996, 137-98, Buckley 1999, 300-2, Tauger 2005, 66, Buckley 2006, 321-36), but many were those who dragged their feet, with some actively resisting (Danilov, Manning, and Viola 1999-2004, Viola et al. 2005). So we find that employment exploded and unemployment disappeared (and with it unemployment insurance), a full range of social insurance and retirement pensions became universal, free health-care and education also became universal, cultural institutions from libraries to cinemas became relatively widespread, women flooded into the workforce, and the material standards of workers and farmers generally increased (Kotkin 1997, 20-21, Allen 2003). The result was a decrease in infant mortality and an increase in the birth-rate. Life expectancy increased by 20 years and the new generation was the first one with universal literacy. At the same time, the ground-shaking disruptions had their negative effects: rapid industrialisation produced myriad new contradictions and the massive shift in agricultural production led to unanticipated problems and new agricultural shortages in the early 1930s. Those who opposed the process found themselves subject to purges, deportation and enforced labour. In short, huge were the gains (enabling the Soviet Union to defeat Hitler), huge were the mistakes, and huge were the disruptions.
In terms of marriage and the status of women, the most significant change was economic. Women entered the workforce in huge numbers, reaching 42 percent of the total number of industrial and rural workers. This reality had profound ramifications for relationships and marriage, not least because the state promoted women as champions of labour. Here we find the Stakhanovites Maria Demchenko, Natal’ia Tereshkova and Pasha Angelina (Buckley 1999, 301, 2006, 253-86). A woman became a worker first and a partner, wife and mother second.
Towards a Domestic State
This economic shift had significant repercussions for domestic life. Two factors are important here. The first concerns the distinction between legal prescription and economic reality. Legal provisions are useless unless the state is actually able to enact them through proactive structural change. Thus, the legal provisions of 1918 and 1926 may have seemed wonderful on paper, but they struggled to be realised on the ground. It may be all very well to recognize de facto relationships and attempt to enforce alimony and child support, but if male workers were simply not earning enough, then such measures were useless or even detrimental. The authorities also found that men tended to manipulate them for their own benefit, abandoning women and children and slipping out of responsibilities.
The economic situation leads to the second factor: the shift from laws focusing on traditional family units – seeking to reshape domestic relations and the nurturing of children within that framework – to the active role of the state in taking over many of those roles. The previous laws had attempted the former, with limited success. The later laws (especially 1936) tackled the latter, with greater success. This possibility was of course enabled by the improved economic condition of the state. While the Soviet Union in the 1920s was still trying to recover from years of civil and international war, as well as persistent international blockades and sabotage, by the 1930s and as a result of the socialist offensive the economic situation had improved considerably.
Let me return to the law of 1936, which stipulated maternity leave, increases in insurance for birth and child support, as well as mandating an increased number of maternity clinics, day-care centres, crèches and milk kitchens. In the 1920s, it was simply impossible to instigate such laws, since they could not be supported at an adequate financial level. By 1936, all of this became feasible. Instead of seeing the measures as ‘pro-natalist’ and designed to conscript more women in the workforce (Goldman 1993, 332), they were actually the state enacting a desire long held but unable to enact: the role of the state in nurturing children rather than the traditional family (as Alexandra Kollontai had imagined when she was director of Zhenotdel). Significantly, the feedback from women to the 1936 law was that they viewed the limitations on abortion as a step back (although favouring the focus on contraception), but they viewed favourably the more stringent requirements on divorce and alimony, and they welcomed above all the significant expansion of nurturing and childcare facilities.
As Chatterjee points out (2002, 129), the idea of welfare and the welfare state – or what I prefer to call the domestic state – was integral to the socialist vision. It was certainly not seen as a temporary measure for difficult times (as with the Great Depression in the United States), but as a fundamental right of Soviet citizens, in this case especially Soviet women. Indeed, so attractive was this approach that Western European states found they had to institute versions of it after the Second World War to prevent workers from longing for a Soviet model, although it was distorted into a version distinguishing between the deserving and underserving, with significant xenophobic implications now seen with the narrative that immigrants and refugees seek to ‘sponge off’ such welfare states.
As for the origins of this approach in the Soviet Union, again and again measures for day-care and crèches were enacted, each time with increases. I have already mentioned the 1936 law, which was met with wide approval. An earlier law of 1931, by the All-Union Soviet of Housing Cooperatives, stipulated that 20 percent of kitchen space in communal housing be devoted to communal dining, while housing cooperatives were to provide sixteen-hour crèches. Further, the Central Committee ordered that 100 percent of children in large industries should be in crèches and kindergartens by 1932. The first Five-Year plan strengthened these measures further. Finance was by now no problem and, despite delays and innumerable problems, by 1934 the number of crèches increased 20-fold in six years to 5,143,400, while the number of kindergartens for children increased 12-fold to 25,700 (Chatterjee 2002, 130). By the early 1940s, the number was considerably higher again.
All of this has a profound bearing on the development of a Marxist approach to human rights, in which the right to economic wellbeing for all is the basic right. But I would like to close with four quotations, focusing on the dramatic changes in the place of women in socialist society. The reason of course is that the measures of the domestic state primarily affected women, who were now seen as workers first, and mothers second.
The first quotation comes from a woman with a new collective farm, who says to her husband: ‘You always said you supported me. Now you see I am earning as much as you. So I have as much to say as you have don’t I? You had better not say anything more to me’ (Chatterjee 2002, 131).
The second also relates to the collective farms, now from 1935 by none other than Stalin (the architect of much of this) in an address to female collective farm shock workers:
We had no such women before. Here am I, already 56 years of age, I have seen many things in my time, I have seen many labouring men and women. But never have I met such women. They are an absolutely new type of people [sovershenno novye liudi] … Only the collective farm life could have destroyed inequality and put woman on her feet … The collective farm introduced the work-day (trudoden’). And what is the work-day? Before the work-day all are equal – men and women … Here, neither father nor husband can reproach a woman with the fact that he is feeding her. Now, if a woman works and has work-days to her credit, she is her own master … And that is just what is meant by the emancipation of peasant women; that is just what is meant by the collective farm system which makes the working woman the equal of every working man (Stalin 1935 , 85-87).
Some men may continue to laugh at the new woman, but the economic changes were crucial. The new Soviet woman was released from the restrictions of pre-revolutionary social and economic life and was now involved in everyday working life, in the factories, collective farms and management of Soviet work. All of this was captured in article 122 of the 1936 Constitution:
Women in the U.S.S.R. are accorded equal rights with men in all spheres of economic, state, cultural, social and political life. The possibility of exercising these rights is ensured to women by granting them an equal right with men to work, payment for work, rest and leisure, social insurance and education, and by state protection of the interests of mother and child, pre-maternity and maternity leave with full pay, and the provision of a wide network of maternity homes, nurseries and kindergartens.
The final quotation comes from Alexandra Kollontai’s earlier vision from 1926:
What – the new woman? Does she really exist? Is she not the product of the creative fantasy of modern writers of fiction, in search of sensational novelties? Look around you, look sharply, reflect, and you will convince yourself: the new woman is certainly there – she exists (Kollontai 1971, 51, see also Kollontai 1980, 29-74, 201-92).
Allen, Robert. 2003. Farm to Factory: A Reinterpretation of the Soviet Industrial Revolution. Princeton: Princeton University Press.
Boobbyer, Philip. 2000. The Stalin Era. London: Routledge.
Buckley, Mary. 1999. “Was Rural Stakhanovism a Movement?” Europe-Asia Studies no. 51 (2):299-314.
Buckley, Mary. 2006. Mobilizing Soviet Peasants: Heroines and Heroes of Stalin’s Fields. Lanham: Rowman and Littlefield.
Chatterjee, Choi. 2002. Celebrating Women: Gender, Festival Culture, and Bolshevik Ideology, 1910-1939. Pittsburgh: University of Pittsburgh Press.
Clark, Katerina. 2011. Moscow, the Fourth Rome: Stalinism, Cosmopolitanism and the Evolution of Soviet Culture, 1931-1941. Cambridge: Harvard University Press.
Danilov, Viktor Petrovich, Roberta Manning, and Lynne Viola, eds. 1999-2004. Tragediia Sovetskoi derevni: Kollektivizatsiia i raskulachivanie. Dokumenty i materialy v 5 tomakh, 1927–1939. Moscow: Rosspen.
Davies, Robert William. 1980-2003. The Industrialisation of Soviet Russia. 5 vols. New York: Palgrave Macmillan.
Davies, Robert William. 2005. “Stalin as Economic Policy-Maker: Soviet Agriculture, 1931–1936.” In Stalin: A New History, edited by Sarah Davies and James Harris, 121-39. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Davies, Robert William, Mark Harrison, and Stephen Wheatcroft, eds. 1980-2003. The Economic Transformation of the Soviet Union, 1913-1945. 5 vols. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Davies, Sarah. 1997. Popular Opinion in Stalin’s Russia: Terror, Propaganda and Dissent, 1934-1941. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Deutscher, Isaac. 1967 . Stalin: A Political Biography. New York: Oxford University Press.
Fitzpatrick, Sheila. 1994. The Russian Revolution. 2 ed. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Goldman, Wendy Z. 1993. Women, the State and Revolution: Soviet Family Policy and Social Life, 1917-1936. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Gregory, Paul R. 2004. The Political Economy of Stalinism: Evidence from the Soviet Secret Archives. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Hirsch, Francine. 2005. Empire of Nations: Ethnographic Knowledge and the Making of the Soviet Union. Ithaca: Cornell University Press.
Kollontai, Alexandra. 1971. The Autobiography of a Sexually Emancipated Communist Woman. Translated by Salvator Attanasio. New York: Herder and Herder.
Kollontai, Alexandra. 1980. Selected Writings. Translated by Alix Holt. New York: Norton.
Kotkin, Stephen. 1997. Magnetic Mountain: Stalinism as a Civilization. Berkeley: University of California Press.
Kuromiya, Hiroaki. 1990. Stalin’s Industrial Revolution: Politics and Workers, 1928–1931. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Martin, Terry. 2001. The Affirmative Action Empire: Nations and Nationalism in the Soviet Union, 1923-1939. Ithaca: Cornell University Press.
Priestland, David. 2007. Stalinism and Politics of Mobilization: Ideas, Power, and Terror in Inter-war Russia. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Reichman, Henry. 1988. “Reconsidering Stalinism.” Theory and Society no. 17:57-90.
Retish, Aaron. 2008. Russia’s Peasants in Revolution and Civil War. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Scott, John. 1989 . Behind the Urals: An American Worker in Russia’s City of Steel. Bloomington: Indian University Press.
Siegelbaum, Lewis. 1988. Stakhanovism and the Politics of Productivity in the USSR, 1935-1941. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Siegelbaum, Lewis, and Andrei Sokolov. 2000. Stalinism as a Way of Life: A Narrative in Documents. Translated by Thomas Hoisington and Steven Shabad. New Haven: Yale University Press.
Stalin, I. V. 1935 . “Speech Delivered at a Reception Given by Leaders of the Communist Party and the Government to Women Collective Farm Shock Workers, 10 November 1935.” In Works, Vol. 14, 85-88. London: Red Star Press.
Stites, Richard. 1978. The Women’s Liberation Movement in Russia: Feminism, Nihilism, and Bolshevism, 1860-1930. Princeton: Princeton University Press.
Tauger, Mark. 1991. “The 1932 Harvest and the Famine of 1933.” Slavic Review no. 50 (1):70-89.
Tauger, Mark. 2001. Natural Disaster and Human Action in the Soviet Famine of 1931-1933. Pittsburgh: Center for Russian and East European Studies.
Tauger, Mark. 2005. “Soviet Peasants and Collectivization, 1930-39: Resistance and Adaptation.” In Rural Adaptation in Russia, edited by Stephen Wegren, 65-94. London: Routledge.
Thurston, Robert, ed. 1996. Life and Terror in Stalin’s Russia, 1934-1941. New Haven: Yale University Press.
Timasheff, Nikolai. 1946 . The Great Retreat. New York: Arno.
Viola, Lynne, V. P. Danilov, N. A. Ivnitskii, and Denis Kozlov, eds. 2005. The War Against the Peasantry, 1927–1930: The Tragedy of the Soviet Countryside. New Haven: Yale University Press.
 It was prefaced by the 1920 decree on abortion, which enabled women to obtain free abortions in hospitals. This was the first such law in the world.
 Hirsch goes further and argues for an intensification of revolution in response to the Nazi threat, while Clark argues that the 1930s constituted the adoption of an ‘even grander narrative’, which she calls ‘cosmopolitan’ (Hirsch 2005, 268, Clark 2011, 7).
 The most balanced works are by Davies et al and Tauger (Davies 1980-2003, Davies, Harrison, and Wheatcroft 1980-2003, Tauger 1991, 2001, 2005). A relief from the ritual denunciations of the failures of the program (Deutscher 1967 , pp. 317-32, Davies 1997, p. 23-58, Boobbyer 2000, p. 29-64, Davies 2005, Gregory 2004) is Allen’s arresting reinterpretation of the significant gains made (Allen 2003).
 For fascinating insights into the varying positions taken by people in everyday life, see the documents collected by Siegelbaum and Sokolov (2000).
 Tauger argues that ‘resistance was not the most common response, and that more peasants adapted to the new system in ways that enabled it to function and solve crucial agricultural problems’ (Tauger 2005, p. 66). Retish (2008) shows how in the earlier period (1914-1922), the majority of peasants opted for the Bolsheviks and the effort to construct a new society.
 This was in the context of a massive shift by peasants to cities to work, which placed immense strains on, and thereby frequent time-lags in, the state’s ability to provide such facilities (Siegelbaum 1988, p. 214-22).
 Short for zhenskii otdel, the women’s department of the Secretariat of the Central Committee of the All-Russian Communist Party (Bolsheviks).
 I would add that the dismantling of welfare states even in Scandinavia is a direct result of the ‘collapse’ of communism in Eastern Europe after 1989. By contrast, China with its long view of history is gradually introducing a comprehensive welfare system for 1.3 billion people.
Recently published is a new book by the stakhanovite, Domenico Losurdo, called: Western Marxism: How It Was Born, How It Died and How It Can Rise Again.
The brief description (found here) reads:
Western Marxism was afflicted by a sort of myopia: it didn’t realize that the wind of the revolution was blowing from Russia to China and the Third World, joining with the national revolutions against Western imperialism.
There was a time when Marxism was an obligatory point of reference for any philosophical and political debate: those years saw the biggest victories for ‘Western Marxism’, which presented itself in stark contrast to its Eastern counterpart, accused of being a state ideology that propped up ‘Socialist’ regimes in Eastern Europe and Asia. Although at first the October revolution was viewed with hope, 20th century Communism contributed to the disintegration of the global colonial complex rather than creating a radically new social system. An extraordinary result that Western Marxism failed adequately to understand or appreciate. Hence its crisis and collapse. If it is to be revived, it must examine the anticolonial revolution and answer three key questions: What has the global anticolonial uprising meant in terms of freedom and emancipation? How is the clash between colonialism and anticolonialism played out today? What relationship was there between the anticolonial and anticapitalist struggles?
Losurdo puts these questions to the great authors of the 20th century – Bloch, Lukács, Adorno and Foucault – and of today – Agamben, Badiou and Žižek – in a heated debate that combines historical reconstruction and philosophical enquiry.
Exactly! For it was the Soviet Union that developed a thoroughly anti-colonial policy (arising from its ‘affirmation action’ nationalities policy). This policy enabled arms, personnel and know-how to support most of the anti-colonial struggles of the twentieth century as part of the global undermining of imperialist capitalism. Indeed, what is now called ‘post-colonialism’ could not have arisen – temporally and theoretically – without the anti-colonial theory and practice developed in the Soviet Union (especially by you-know-who).
This project – involving Chinese and international researchers – seeks to provide the philosophical and historical framework for understanding the realities of socialism in power. Taking China, Cuba and the former Soviet Union as the principal case studies, it focuses on the crucial questions of the nature of the socialist state, democracy, civil society, and the role of the communist party. It also elaborates on the more abstract theoretical issues of contradiction, justice and human rights – issues that have significant practical implications. Since these topics remain relatively unexamined at a philosophical level, the task of this project is to take the first steps in a rigorous theoretical analysis.
The method is as follows: theoretical reflection on practice. The actual practice of socialism in power is rich in a century’s worth of primary material: from the 1917 October Revolution to ‘Socialism for the 21st Century’. This material arises from specific problems, which have resulted in policies, pronouncements and laws. However, the task of systematic philosophical and historical reflection concerning socialism in power remains to be done.
This is very much an international project, with key Marxist critics in China, Europe, Russia and Australia engaged for the long term.
Part A: Political Realities
1. Socialist State
While there has been considerable practice in relation to such a state, relatively little attention has been paid to philosophical, historical, scientific and literary analysis. Indeed, while it easier to say what this state is not (federation, empire, colonising power, or bourgeois nation-state), the question remains as to what form of the state it might be. Some have suggested they may be characterised as a developmental or contender state, but this neglects the distinctive socialist dimension. The experience and practice of the state in China, the Soviet Union and Latin America provide ample material for constructing a theory of such a state – well beyond the initial formulations of Engels and Lenin. The major features of this analysis may include: whether the state is an instrument used by one or more classes, or whether the state changes its deeper structures in light of capitalism or socialism; the role of class in analysing the state; the agency of a strong state; the relationship between power and apparatus, as well as the specific structures of governance; the role of the communist party in governance; specific policies, such as those relating to nationalities (or ‘preferential policies’, youhui zhengce), anti-colonial struggles, education, and so on.
2. Socialist Democracy
Crucial to a socialist state is socialist democracy, which must be understood in a very different way from other forms of democracy. It stands in contrast to Greek democracy, liberal (bourgeois or – as it sometimes called – ‘deliberative’) democracy, illiberal democracy, or indeed a warmed over bourgeois democracy championed by Social-Democrats and indeed some Marxists. By contrast, socialist democracy includes the majority of the population – workers, peasants and intellectuals. It is a constantly evolving process and may include, but is not restricted to, stages of new democracy, authoritarian communism, democratic dictatorship and democratic centralism. The history of socialism in power provides ample material for analysing these forms of socialist democracy, although the project also seeks to delineate the possibilities of yet other forms.
3. Socialist Civil Society
In a socialist state we examine whether a socialist civil society arises. This is in contrast to bourgeois civil society, which entails a basic alienation between private individual and the state, as well as a systemic exclusion of the majority. The constant danger of bourgeois civil society is that it easily becomes a lynch mob. Instead of this type of civil society, socialist civil society operates in a different way. This takes place in terms of a recalibrated dialectic of collective and individual. In alternative terms, this civil society appears in the space between official communist policy and individual expression. Indeed, socialist civil society is based on a redefinition of freedom, which provides a new universal based on the open particularity of the majority. In sum, this freedom is a freedom from bourgeois civil society and freedom for the socialist project.
4. The Communist Party
Integral to the socialist state and indeed socialist democracy is the communist party, which the project examines in light of a thoroughly reshaped dialectic of immanence and transcendence. This dialectic has both ontological and temporal dimensions. Ontologically, it suggests that the focus on immanence in the development of European modernity misses the way transcendence has been reworked in the political sphere. Further, the project draws upon Chinese philosophical reflections on transcendence and immanence, understood in light of Marxist contributions. All of this leads to a reconsideration of the relations between ‘from above’ and ‘from below’ in relation to socialist consciousness and the relations between the party and the people. Temporally, transcendence becomes the goal of communism itself, with the resultant distinction between socialism and communism. Such transcendence in turn has a proleptic effect on the immanence of the presence, being creatively active and yet awaiting fulfilment.
5. Socialist Market Economy
Instead of the assumption that a ‘market economy’ is inherently capitalist and thereby universal, this topic examines the different forms of market economies. While its focus is a socialist market economy, it situates such an economy within the history of markets. This historical examination reveals that markets throughout history have been of different types, often generated by states to solve specific logistical problems. In these cases, profit is at best a secondary phenomenon. Analysis of a socialist market economy itself focuses on the following areas: the differences with the ‘market socialism’ of Yugoslavia; the nature of a preliminary socialist market economy in the Soviet Union; the realities of working within capitalist market economies; the detailed structures of a socialist market economy in China and how it differs markedly from a capitalist market economy.
Part B: Theoretical Considerations
The crucial question here is whether contradictions continue to exist under socialism, and, if so, how. Pre-revolutionary Marxist theory tended to hold that the contradictions of capitalism would be overcome with communism. However, the actual experience of the exercise of power by communist parties indicates otherwise. This situation first became apparent in the Soviet Union, although the preference was to restrict contradictions – such as between the forces and relations of production – to the period of socialism. They would disappear, it was held, in the era of communism (which was now a distinct period). It fell to Mao Zedong to argue that contradictions would indeed by a constituent feature of socialism, if not communism (see ‘On Contradiction’, from 1937, and ‘On Correctly Handling Contradictions Among the People’, from 1957). Contradiction and the dialectic are, of course, constituent features of Marxist analysis and practice, but the step forward was to apply them to the long period of socialist construction. However, this is not merely a historical question, for one may argue (following Ernst Bloch) that contradictions are actually exacerbated under socialism, especially today. So this project seeks to identify the main contradiction today in China, with a view to explicating its features and proposing a possible solution. A major feature of this analysis is to draw upon Chinese philosophical approaches to contradiction, which have remoulded the question in a Chinese situation.
Contradictions in China, especially between socialism and capitalism, have increased in the context of the all-important reform and opening (gaige kaifeng). This period has also raised the urgent philosophical problem of justice (and equality). Debate continues as to whether the reform and opening up has created the conditions under which such considerations are necessary, or whether the problems faced are due to the incomplete nature of the reform process. The problems include, in the context of the unleashing of the forces of production, the gap between rich and poor, access to education and medicine, and environmental factors. In this context, the question of justice is crucial. However, our approach draws not so much on European liberal traditions, but on Marxist thought and China’s specific historical experience – in which justice and equality are major concerns. As a result, such a theory of justice will seek to make a new contribution to China’s current situation and to international Marxist theory.
3. Human Rights
The third area of theoretical deliberation concerns human rights. Key features of this analysis include the following points. First, the origins of the plural ‘rights’ in European thought with Hugo Grotius (sixteenth century), who first proposed plural ‘rights’ in contrast to the medieval singular of ‘Right’. Grotius clearly saw such rights as commodities and private property. Second, the tension between universal and particular, in which one may – with qualifications – agree to a universal category of human rights, but be wary of universalising from a particular situation. Further, the particular historical situations of different countries indicate specific emphases. For example, European and indeed Atlantic history has led to an emphasis on political rights at the expense of economic rights. By contrast, countries with different histories and Marxist influences have found that economic rights are paramount – the right to economic wellbeing. Third, each particular situation offers a different approach to the complex relations between collective and individual. In a European context, the individual tends to be paramount, although the collective is by no means absent even if is mediated through the individual. In other situations, such as China, the relation is different and exceedingly complex. One may initially suggest that the individual (and indeed the issue of privacy) finds expression through the collective, but this is merely the first step in analysis. Once again, a Marxist approach to human rights is crucial.
Part C: Comparison: Socialism with ‘National’ Characteristics
In order to make best use of the rich history of socialism in power, the project includes an important comparative dimension. This we call an examination of socialism with ‘national’ characteristics, which draws its inspiration from the Chinese characteristics of Marxism. Such comparison draws upon the theories and practices of the Soviet Union and Eastern Europe, Latin America, and Asia. Obviously, it will require collaboration with specialists in these areas. This area of research raises two types of distinctions. The first concerns the differences between socialism seeking power, socialism in power, and socialism after power. Thus, some forms of socialism fall into only one category, such as in Western Europe and North America. Others have experienced socialism both seeking and in power, especially in Asia. And some have experienced all three, as we find in Eastern Europe. These differences will be able to produce distinct insights into the particular varieties of socialism. The second distinction concerns unity and diversity. Marxism may have core theoretical principles and topics, but the actual experiences of socialism in power have produced new developments.
To sum up, the concern of this long project is with the theoretical implications of socialism in power. This means the complexities, developments and changing conditions of socialism after it has achieved power in a revolution. As both Lenin and Chairman Mao pointed out repeatedly, it is one thing to win power through a revolution; it is a much more difficult and complex task to construct socialism in a global context. Today, China provides the richest example of this process, so it is the task of philosophers, political theorists and social scientists to develop theories by examining the realities and facts and perhaps point the way forward for Marxist theory in the context of socialism in power.
One of the great myths concerning socialist collectivisation of agriculture is that it produced ‘man-made’ famines, since it is supposedly less ‘efficient’. This story is perpetrated by friend and foe alike.
Example 1: The famine of 1932-33 in the Soviet Union, which is supposed to have been ‘man-made’.
Let me set the context. During the ‘socialist offensive’ of the late 1920s and 1930s in the Soviet Union, a massive process of industrialisation and collectivisation took place.
The Soviet Union did not have access to and did not want to use capitalist modes of accumulating funds, namely, colonial expansion (dispossession of others) and international loans. So the industrialisation process had to rely on internal, or socialist accumulation. In order to generate such accumulation, the government set higher prices for the increasing abundance of manufactured goods, as a type of super-tax that would flow back into industry. Meanwhile, prices on agricultural goods were set lower, albeit with fluctuations depending on seasonal shortages and in light of the constant efforts at speculation. This tensions of this ‘scissors’ method of generating revenue for further industrialisation generated obvious problems, but these were exacerbated by a famine in 1927-28, requiring enforced requisitions of grain in response to some peasants withholding agricultural produce for speculation (Withholding of grain for the sake of raising prices was an old practice, appearing not only during the NEP of the mid-1920s, but also much earlier). Obviously, something had to be done, since the ‘scissors’ method could not continue – it was always conceived as a temporary measure.
Another persistent problem was that traditional Russian farming methods were inadequate in light of new developments and a rising population. I mean not the subsistence survival agriculture practised in many parts of the world for millennia, but the practice of landlords extracting food necessary for survival by farmers. In fact, rural famines were endemic to Russian life. In more recent memory, famine hit in 1890-91, the revolutions of 1905 and 1917 had taken place in the context of widespread famine, which added to socio-economic chaos. Famines also blighted 1918-20 and were exacerbated during 1920-21.
So the process of collectivisation was at one level an effort to deal with endemic famine.
Many of course will point to the famine of 1932-33, with some even suggesting it was a deliberate policy of ‘genocide’ focused on the Ukraine (the ‘Holodomur’). But the famine also affected Northern Caucasus, Volga Region and Kazakhstan, the South Urals, and West Siberia. Enough research has been done to show that the famine was the result of significant weather conditions (drought), low harvest, international blockade, and the profound turmoil and frequent violence of the 1930s.
Were there famines later? Yes. One could argue that the food shortage during the siege of Leningrad was a famine, but the reasons are obvious here. And after the devastation of war and the effort to defeat Hitler, a famine took place after a drought in 1947. Most importantly, despite the drought cycle, no further famines were experienced.
Obviously, collectivisation had a distinct result in dealing with the endemic problem of famines. Why? Collectivisation enabled mechanisation and increase in the amount of land under cultivation, so much so that in 1932 many farmers worked harder to ensure greater crop yield and overcome the famine by the next year.
Example 2: The Chinese famine of 1959-61, during the ‘Great Leap Forward’, is also described as ‘man-made’, a result of the ‘foolhardy’ effort at collectivisation.
Once again, famine was endemic to Chinese agriculture (see Losurdo’s War and Revolution, pp. 271-72). Restricting ourselves to the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, famines occurred in 1810-11, 1846, 1849, 1876-79 (9-13 million died), 1896-97, 1907, 1911, 1920-21 (again in northern China), 1928-30 (3 million people died), 1936 (5 million), 1940-41 (2-3 million). In famine was a persistent problem.
If we add the semi-colonisation of China, invasions, insurrections, along with droughts, the deaths in China between 1850 and 1950 were by far the highest in the world.
Again, something obviously had to be done. Having seen the long-term success of the collectivisation in the Soviet Union in overcoming the persistent cycle of famine, collectivisation was also undertaken in China.
The problem now was not only the devastation of decades of civil war and Japanese occupation, but a deliberate policy of economic warfare and strangulation by the Truman regime. This included schematic bombing from Taiwan of any industrial facilities built on the eastern seaboard. The deliberate aim was to keep the new communist country below subsistence level so as to produce a catastrophic economic situation, if not disaster and collapse.
We need to add Mao’s impatience. Seeing the dire situation of the country in light of economic devastation and US policy, he sought to leap over stages of development in order to escape from the desperate trap. Again, the US regimes made the most of situation, seeking to exacerbate the situation and cause widespread devastation. By the early 1960s, the Kennedy regime, looking back on the famine of 1959-61, gloated that they succeeded in retarding Chinese economic development by decades.
Were there famines after this time in China? Again, no. The long history of endemic famine and the tragic lesson of 1959-61 meant that China has managed to put famine behind it.
Many strange things happen in Russia, but this is one of the more intriguing. Not so long ago, I was told while in Russia that one could not speak of Marxism directly in many circles. Marxism is a dirty word, I was told; indeed, there are no Marxists of any influence. The only way to undertake research on Marxism and find a job in a university was to focus on the various forms of the opposition to Lenin and Stalin.
Something has changed. It began with an invitation from Algoritm Press to write a book on Stalin that would be translated into Russian. Debate is heating up over Stalin’s legacy, with an increasing number of people calling for a reassessment. They also want foreign engagements with this debate. It has also generated works like Oleg Khlevniuk’s new biography of Stalin, which is an alarmed response to these developments.
But it really struck me this year at a couple of conferences, one celebrating 120 years since the death of Engels and the other called, innocuously, the World Cultural Forum. At the first conference, in Nanjing, a number of Russian scholars were present, with their journeys covered by the conference organisers. They spoke mostly of Chinese Marxism, although one chose to speak in Russian since it was ‘the language of Lenin’. However, one of them spoke of socialism as a cultural force, in both the Soviet Union and China, if not worldwide. Afterwards, I said to him, ‘I was told there are no Marxists in Russian any more’. He replied, ‘Well, I am one. She is one. He is one …’.
At the next conference, a few days later in Beijing, the handful of Russian scholars became scores. They had all attended an earlier conference there (which I had missed) called the ‘World Socialist Forum’ – which may be seen as the twenty-first century’s version of the Comintern. Now it became even more interesting. Some of the Russian speakers sought to draw upon and assess positively aspects of the Soviet Union. One spoke of Soviet education, another of Soviet cultural policy, another of Sino-Soviet ties. I dared to speak in front of such an audience (a little nervously) of the philosophical connections between the nationalities policy, affirmative action, anti-colonialism and the redefinition of ‘people’ and state in the Soviet Union. Quite a few came up to me afterwards with appreciative comments. One senior philosopher from the Academy of Sciences even told me that I had managed to identify some of the key philosophical developments he had been studying for 40 years.
So what is going on? I am not quite sure. Partly, it has to do with the recent development of very close ties between Russia and China, thereby negating much of the efforts of NATO and the USA. But it goes well beyond strategic and economic interests. Partly, it has to do with finding common ground between Russia and China, via the Soviet era, although an occasional Russian will assert that the Soviet Union was ‘more advanced’ than China. But I sense much more is under way, with both older scholars who spent most of their lives in the Soviet Union and younger scholars seeking to re-engage. What these developments might actually mean is still unclear to me.