Factory of Strategy: Thirty-Three Lessons on Lenin

“LEFT-WING” COMMUNISM, AN Infantile Disorder is a party manual, a manual for a party that has won and has begun to develop a strategic and tactical plan to build the model of the workers’ international, which subsequently became the foundation of the international organizational structures for the defense, the expansion, and the control of the expansion of the Soviet revolution: “I shall begin with our own experience—in keeping with the general plan of the present pamphlet, the object of which is to apply to Western Europe whatever is of general application, general validity and generally binding force in the history and the present tactics of Bolshevism.”¹

Now we already have very considerable international experience which most definitely shows that certain fundamental features of our revolution have a significance which is not local, not peculiarly national, not Russian only, but international. I speak here of international significance not in the broad sense of the term: not some, but all the fundamental and many of the secondary features of our revolution are of international significance in the sense that the revolution influences all countries. Now, taking it in the narrowest sense, i.e., understanding international significance to mean the international validity or the historical inevitability of a repetition on an international scale of what has taken place in our country, it must be admitted that certain fundamental features of our revolution do possess such a significance. Of course, it would be a very great mistake to exaggerate this truth and to apply it not only to certain fundamental features of our revolution. It would also be a mistake to lose sight of the fact that after the victory of the proletarian revolution in at least one of the advanced countries things will in all probability take a sharp turn, viz., Russia will soon after cease to be the model country and once again become a backward country (in the “Soviet” and the socialist sense). But at the present moment of history the situation is precisely such that the Russian model reveals to all countries something, and something very essential, of their near and inevitable future. Advanced workers in every land have long understood this; and more often they have not so much understood it as grasped it, sensed it, by revolutionary class instinct. Herein lies the international “significance” (in the narrow sense of the term) of Soviet power, and of the fundamentals of Bolshevik theory and tactics.²

The experience of the victorious dictatorship of the proletariat in Russia has clearly shown even to those who are unable to think, or who have not had occasion to ponder over this question, that absolute centralization and the strictest discipline of the proletariat constitute one of the fundamental conditions for victory over the bourgeoisie. This is often discussed. But not nearly enough thought is given to what it means, and under what conditions it is possible. Would it not be better if greetings in honor of Soviet power and the Bolsheviks were more frequently attended by a profound analysis of the reasons why the Bolsheviks were able to build up the discipline the revolutionary proletariat needs? As a trend of political thought and as a political party, Bolshevism [has existed] since 1903. Only the history of Bolshevism during the whole period of its existence can satisfactorily explain why it was able to build up and to maintain under most difficult conditions the iron discipline needed for the victory of the proletariat. And first of all the question arises: how is the discipline of the revolutionary party of the proletariat maintained? How is it tested? How is it reinforced? First, by the class consciousness of the proletarian vanguard and by its devotion to the revolution, by its perseverance, self-sacrifice and heroism. Secondly, by its ability to link itself with, to keep in close touch with, and to a certain extent, if you like, to merge with the broadest masses of the toilers—primarily with the proletariat, but also with the non-proletarian toiling masses. Thirdly, by the correctness of the political leadership exercised by this vanguard, by the correctness of its political strategy and tactics, provided that the broadest masses have been convinced by their own experience that they are correct. Without these conditions, discipline in a revolutionary party that is really capable of being the party of the advanced class, whose mission it is to overthrow the bourgeoisie and transform the whole of society, cannot be achieved. Without these conditions, all attempts to establish discipline inevitably fall flat and end in phrase-mongering and grimacing. On the other hand, these conditions cannot arise all at once. They are created only by prolonged effort and hard-won experience. Their creation is facilitated by correct revolutionary theory, which, in its turn, is not a dogma, but assumes final shape only in close connection with the practical activity of a truly mass and truly revolutionary movement.³

But there is more to it than a search for a static equilibrium reliant on structural conditions that are predictably long-term and stable, as evidenced in the analysis carried out in individual countries experiencing situations different from that of 1920. The Bolshevik program needs to be measured up against the parameters of class composition and the model of subjective and party initiative: each phase of the program had achieved a sort of stability in terms of prediction and had worked out an adequate model to resolve the relation between the organizational form and the initiative of the masses. But a highly problematic equilibrium is proposed in a dramatic situation wherein the triumph of the Bolshevik revolution provoked the response of all national bourgeoisies, one that, in a period of deep crisis, began to make itself adequate to the need for an offensive restructuring. The difficulty of the relation between a revolutionary model and the initiative of the masses, both in its generality (as connected to the very nature of the problem) and its particularity (as connected to national situations), here is multiplied by the exceptionality of the period of class struggle at a continental level, by the harshness of the struggle itself, and the terrible decision of both contenders.

The dictatorship of the proletariat is a most determined and most ruthless war waged by the new class against a more powerful enemy, the bourgeoisie, whose resistance is increased tenfold by its overthrow (even if only in one country), and whose power lies not only in the strength of international capital, in the strength and durability of the international connections of the bourgeoisie, but also in the force of habit, in the strength of small production. For, unfortunately, small production is still very, very widespread in the world, and small production engenders capitalism and the bourgeoisie continuously, daily, hourly, spontaneously, and on a mass scale. For all these reasons the dictatorship of the proletariat is essential, and victory over the bourgeoisie is impossible without a long, stubborn and desperate war of life and death, a war demanding perseverance, discipline, firmness, indomitableness and unity of will.⁴

In addition to their emphasis on the exceptional ruthlessness of class struggle, did Lenin and the leadership of the Communist International recognize the exceptionality of the ongoing transformations of those years? The Soviet revolutionary model was entrusted to the experience of the masses in a period of extreme accentuation of class struggle, fine: but was there a perception of the dialectical shift that the victory of the Soviet revolution had set off at the world level, and of the intensity of the response of both national bourgeoisies and single capitalists?

In fact, from October onward in more or less time the bourgeoisie tried to gather its own forces to respond to the Bolshevik challenge multiplied by the workers’ initiative on a world scale, and to use the entire armory at its disposal to this end. The bourgeois dictatorship reorganized itself and alternated despotic (fascist) forms with reformist means, armed with a growing awareness and an implacable anti-Bolshevik hatred. This reorganization touched on levels that were both structural and of social command (the state) as well as on the mechanism of social production. The Russian revolutionary initiative found an equal and opposite response from the side of capitalism. As always, the dialectics of workers’ revolution met its powerful reverse in capitalist restructuring; the workers’ revolutionary initiative had to measure itself up against this new level of power relations, and inevitably renew itself.⁵ Does “Left-Wing” Communism address these questions? Does it offer a model that is adequate to the new conditions of working-class struggle as it developed after the October revolution in capitalist restructuring? In this situation, is the equilibrium powerfully determined in Lenin’s thought between the Bolshevik model and the Soviet and revolutionary initiative sustained, or does it break down?

If we read “Left-Wing” Communism as an attempt to respond to these questions, undoubtedly the text throws up a number of ambiguities. On the one hand, the presentation of the Soviet and Bolshevik model is extraordinarily powerful and thus embodies an absolutely valid revolutionary tension; on the other hand, the equilibrium between the subjective tension of the model and the new structural conditions of class struggle at the world level does not seem to be entirely adequate. “Left-Wing” Communism represents the beginning of a consideration and analysis of party relations on the international scale (of the relation, that is, between subjective initiative and political class composition), and this is an enthusiastic beginning, but still extremely skewed toward the Russian experience. This is the beginning of a new problem emerging, and ending, in the exposition of an old model, presented as a conclusion to the Russian experience.

Having arisen on this granite theoretical foundation, Bolshevism passed through fifteen years (1903–17) of practical history which in wealth of experience has no equal anywhere else in the world. For no other country during these fifteen years had anything even approximating to this revolutionary experience, this rapid and varied succession of different forms of the movement—legal and illegal, peaceful and stormy, underground and open, circles and mass movements, parliamentary and terrorist. In no other country was there concentrated during so short a time such a wealth of forms, shades, and methods of struggle of all classes of modern society, and moreover, a struggle which, owing to the backwardness of the country and the severity of the tsarist yoke, matured with exceptional rapidity and assimilated most eagerly and successfully the appropriate “last word” of American and European political experience.⁶

Therefore, the whole Bolshevik strategy is taken up here, but tactical and strategic indications do not emerge out of nothing: they arise from an analysis of the political composition of class, from the political labor on the general conditions of a determinate proletariat, the Russian one in particular. Here all forms of struggle have been used and all revolutionary means experimented with. Time and again, the selection of the most adequate means was established by the party and verified by the masses. Bolshevism is not simply an openness to use all forms of struggle, but a commensuration of these weapons with an objective in light of the program and experience of the masses. The decisive question is thus: how can the instruments be commensurate with the objectives and adequate to the political composition of the working and proletarian class? The decisive question concerns the relation between the party and class composition, the revolutionary experience of the masses. The Bolshevik Party always managed to establish some equilibrium between these elements, until its victory.

Given what we have argued in our attempted reconstruction of the main movements and modalities of Lenin’s thought, the only ground where it is possible to exemplify the Bolshevik scheme into a model requires an analogy to the political situations and class composition. Lenin is right on this: we will later see how little he can be accused of scheming, and how attentive he is to the particularity of the situations instead. There is nothing schematic about the model he proposed. It is essentially and fundamentally a political fact. The extension of the Bolshevik revolution can rely on a fundamental analogy to individual class compositions for a very simple reason: because the subjective power of the Russian revolution pivots on the movement of the masses, is connected to a determinate model, and is sustained by the example of proletarian dictatorship. This is the point: offering the model now, in 1920, means discovering a crucial dimension of the working-class composition at the world level. Herein lie both Lenin’s greatness and the fascination with “Left-Wing” Communism.

But “Left-Wing” Communism is more than this. This new equilibrium between the organizational proposal at the international level and the subjective aspects of the political composition of the international proletariat was extremely fragile. We have seen why this was so: the equilibrium was mined by the capitalist ability to respond and was inevitably limited to the short term of a growing revolutionary tension. Paradoxically, the Bolshevik model was not presented as a figure of stabilization of the movement, but as an element of growth, a record of the offensive. Lenin’s synthesis, in this case, is entirely a synthesis of the offensive, of the attack related to the (short-term) terms of the offensive and burned by the impelling defense of the Soviet regime. Because of this, the synthesis is fragile. The expansion of the communist movement necessitated other means at this stage: above all, it needed to be able to forecast capitalists and workers’ comportments, the necessarily new configuration of the power relations between classes. Here “Left-Wing” Communism falls; and not only does it fall, it also attempts, as we shall see, an ideological and false exit from the difficulties confronting it.

For now, we will simply hint at this. We have seen Lenin’s gaze move onto the character of power tout court, with its powerful abstraction, in order to single it out as the exclusive object of hatred and the target of the attack. But these emphases on the “autonomy of the political,” as determined as they were by the particular figure of Russian autocracy, had become exclusive to him. Here, instead, in the difficult situation of 1920, the analysis seems heavily tilted to this side. As we shall see, the attack on extremism or “left-wing” communism essentially moves from the defense of the “autonomy of the political” and is sustained by a demand for a formal position of the party before the structures of the state. As we shall see, Lenin exasperates particular and one-sided aspects of the global discourse in his particular situation, given the urgency of defending the Russian revolution.⁷

What does it matter? They can be subverted later! The sectarian singularity of their attitude innervates the overall strategy of the Bolsheviks. But one needed the strength to do that, to build continuity between a sequence of tactical moments and a strategic design. That did not happen. From this standpoint, “Left-Wing” Communism contains the residue of a “Leninism” that is not singular and becomes characteristic of a historical phase of international communism: over time, the “autonomy of the political” would turn into an ideology fixed in the “political” perspective of the International that sees the interests of power as primary. And so far, so good! (But this is a different issue.) The terrible thing, the real, deep betrayal of Leninism, the subversion of the continuity between Marx and Lenin, occurs when this ideology of power becomes unhinged from an analysis of the political class composition and dissolved into a mystification of capitalist power as something capable of an indeterminate variation of antiworkers’ responses. The nexus between class action and capitalist restructuring is destroyed and organization becomes a fetish. The forecasting of capitalist comportments is flattened into sociological analysis in the recovery of economism. The naturalism and anarchist utopianism of the notion of the state become characteristic of the international communist movement, on the left and, more frequently, on the right. The exigencies of 1920 end up barring an understanding of capitalist development and of the transformations of working-class composition in the 1920s and 1930s. In the hands of the Dimitrovs and Togliattis, “Left-Wing” Communism becomes a reactionary weapon.