Monday, November 11, 2013
Historical Materialism panel: Theorising Contemporary Racisms posted by Richard Seymour
This is the audio of the panel featuring myself, Félix Boggio Éwanjé-Épée, and Razmig Keucheyan on the subject of ‘Theorising Contemporary Racisms’. My own segment, on 'Poulantzas and racial states in crisis', is first. Felix’s speech is based on a paper co-written with Stella Magliani-Belkacem, which I will be hosting on this blog.Labels: anti-racism, poulantzas, race, racial formation, racism, state, tea party
Thursday, September 13, 2012
The territorial logic of the capitalist state posted by Richard Seymour
"In the chaos of relations among individuals, groups, class fractions, and classes, the state tends to impose a rationality, its own, which has space as its privileged instrument. The economy is thus recast in spatial terms - flows (of energy, raw materials, labor power, finished goods, trade patterns, etc.) and stocks (of gold and capital, investments, machines, technologies, stable clusters of various jobs, etc.). The state tends to control flows and stocks by ensuring their coordination. In the course of a threefold process (growth - i.e., expansion of the productive forces - urbanization, or the formation of massive units of production and consumption; and spatialization), a qualitative leap occurs: the emergence of the state mode of production (SMP) (mode de production etatique). The articulation between the SMP and space is thus crucial. It differs from that between previous modes of production (including capitalism) and their manner of occupying natural space (including modifying it through social practice). Something new appears in civil society and in political society, in production and in state institutions. This must be given a name and conceptualized. We suggest that this rationalization and socialization of society has assumed a specific form, which can be termed: politicization, statism." (See Lefebvre, 'Space and State', in Neil Brenner and Bob Jessop, State-Space: A Reader, Blackwell, 2002)
"G. William Skinner portrays the social geography of late imperial China as the intersection of two sets of central-place hierarchies ... The first, constructed largely from the bottom up, emerged from exchange; its overlapping units consisted of larger and larger market areas centered on towns and cities of increasing size. The second, imposed mainly from the top down, resulted from imperial control; its nested units comprised a hierarchy of administrative jurisdictions. Down to the level of the hsien, or county, every city had a place in both the commercial and the administrative hierarchy. Below that level, even the mighty Chinese Empire ruled indirectly via its gentry. In the top-down system, we find the spatial logic of coercion. In the bottom-up system, the spatial logic of capital. We have seen two similar hierarchies at work repeatedly in the unequal encounter between European states and cities."
What does the territorialisation of political power consist of? Territoriality in its simplest sense is the disposal of a particular bounded space as a base for achieving a particular social outcome. A church, a police station, a school... all are, among other things, bounded spaces within which a certain type of social organisation is performed; containers for certain sets of social relations. Territorialising political power, then, is nothing other than a process of binding political authority to a determinate space in which the goals of the politically dominant class, the ruling class, can be achieved.
“A national economy is a political space, transformed by the state as a result of the necessities and innovations of economic life, into a coherent, unified economic space whose combined activities may tend in the same direction. Only England managed this exploit at an early date. In reference to England the term revolution recurs: agricultural, political, financial and industrial revolutions. To this list must be added- giving it whatever name you choose - the revolution that created England's national market.” (Afterthoughts on material civilization and capitalism, 1977)
However, there is no reason to start by inferring or deriving the capitalist state form from commodity circulation. We can certainly concede the methodological primacy of the totality. But we should remember that the capitalism which emerges in Marx’s Capital is a complex totality composed of many determinations. Each new determination, as Callinicos points out in Imperialism and Political Economy, is connected to the previous in a dependent but non-deductive way. So Marx moves from the analysis of the commodity form to the struggle over the eight hour day, or financial markets, or another aspect of capitalist relations. And while each stage of analysis may depend on the foregoing explications, it is not directly implied in them. Capital markets are not implicit in the analysis of the commodity form; there is no reason why the state form should be implied by the general form of capital either. That being the case, the capitalist state form must be seen as part of a complex totality of mutually articulated elements, each exerting a reciprocal effectivity on the others, the organization of the whole determining the effectivity of each element. The capitalist state is overdetermined by the organization of the complex totality of which it forms a part.
Labels: althusser, capitalism, capitalist state, mode of production, nationalism, political marxism, poulantzas, social division of labour, socialist strategy, space, state, state-derivation, territory
Saturday, July 14, 2012
Notes on passive revolution posted by Richard Seymour
I. ‘Passive revolution’ emerged at first to explain a
particular kind of ‘bourgeois revolution’ (ie capitalist transition) effected
without a radical-popular assault on the state.
Gramsci’s focus was on the Risorgimento, but other examples would
include German Unification, and Meiji Restoration Japan. In the period since 1848, Neil Davidson suggests
in what is evidently the authoritative work on this subject, this type of
transition has been the most common due to two factors: first, the emergence of
the working class, whose minatory presence sapped the revolutionary afflatus of
the bourgeoisie; and second, the emergence of other ruling classes or social
groups capable of enacting the transition (in Germany, the feudal ruling class;
in Egypt as in many neighbours, the officer corps). Since capitalism had
emerged as clearly the most dynamic mode of production in a world system
increasingly dominated by it, non-capitalist ruling classes could be persuaded
to make the transition. 1. that no social formation disappears as long as the productive forces which have developed within it still find room for further forward movement;2. that a society does not set itself tasks for whose solution the necessary conditions have not already been incubated etc.
V. 'Passive revolution' is thus, in both its main senses, a particular relationship between political leadership and social transformation; political leadership becomes identical with state domination, through which transformation is achieved. The tendency in 'passive revolution' is for the bourgeoisie to be unable to rule directly, or alone. Partly for this reason, 'passive revolution' is internally related to the concept of 'Caesarism' which, despite being initially posited as an explicitly polemical formulation, is clearly drawn from Marx's discussion of 'Bonapartism', and which is also a tendency immanent to capitalist modernity. According to Gramsci, 'Caesarism' occurs where the two opposing fundamental classes are deadlocked, both sides evenly matched, potentially threatening mutual ruin: in such a catastrophic stalemate, a 'Caesar' can either play a progressive or reactionary role. It is in its reactionary sense that it is tied to 'passive revolution', as it is often the role of a 'Caesar' to carry through such a transformation. A 'Caesar' is not necessarily a great personality. The decisive thing is that 'Caesarism', whether it is personated in the form of a despot, or party, or faction, or alliance, represents some form of compromise between the classes, whether its general thrust is toward progress or reaction. That is why, as Gramsci says, ""every coalition government is a first stage of Caesarism". And, because of the enhanced role of the state in 'Caesarism', it can be an ideal type of regime to achieve 'revolution-restoration'. It is significant in this sense that Bismarck is given as an example of regressive 'Ceasarism'.
Yet at the same time, 'passive revolution' is, as I have said, a process in which some compromise between the contending classes is struck. In some form, however partial and mitigated, popular demands have to be addressed; a material substratum for acquiescence if not active assent must be created. Moreover, although 'passive revolution' is often a repressive form of modernisation, it is worth recalling that consent is often as not produced through coercion and terror - that is, through the demonstration with physical force that 'there is no alternative, and the only people talking of an alternative are criminals and misfits who get beaten up and arrested'. (Cf. Poulantzas: "State monopolized physical violence permanently underlies the techniques of power and mechanisms of consent".) There is a sense in which 'passive revolution' must simulate elements of bourgeois hegemony in a context of weakness, stasis or underdevelopment. This is why some authors refer to a 'limited hegemony' in the context of 'passive revolution', despite the fact that the dominant tendency is toward domination without consent.
VIII. The question, then, is how can the tendencies toward 'passive revolution', immanent to capitalist modernity, be interpreted today? The neoliberal transformation sharpened the tendencies toward 'passive revolution'. First of all, in the sense that it was a modernisation project, and that it rationalised the productive and demographic forces to an extent, even if it introduced all sorts of new pathologies and 'contradictions' in doing so. Second, in the sense that it involved some partial, limited concessions to popular interests - differentiation in the proletariat allowed this to be accomplished, even while the rate of exploitation was being driven up. Thirdly, in the sense that there were tendencies toward hegemony-building, an effort to shift the common sense, even though the main form in which transformation was achieved was through struggle. Fourth, in the emphasis on repression as a factor in building consent. Neoliberal reform did not merely rely on repression to enable its passage, but rather implemented a fundamental shift in the continuum toward repression: from welfare and material concessions to the carceral/punitive state. Finally in the transformist tendencies particularly evident in the latter phase of neoliberal transformation: following the open assault on low wage earners, union militants, the oppressed, the social movements and the left, there ensues the incorporation of the leaders of defeated or at least chastened social movements, unions and left parties into a new neoliberal social democracy.
IX. The global crisis has demonstrated the need, purely on capitalist terms, for fundamental, structural reform of the capitalist system. In fact, the only viable solution on capitalist terms would be simultaneously the most irrational solution - the destruction of masses of capital, through profound economic contraction or through war. But this is not politically viable. Not even Rick Santorum could win on that slogan, and the bourgeoisie wouldn't tolerate it if he did. For that reason, the debate is between a set of mediating, compromise solutions with the emphasis shifting between Keynesian demand management and neoliberal regulation. In Europe, the most punitive neoliberalism is consistent with a programme of re-regulating financial markets up to and including a continent-wide Tobin tax. Even in Greece, the EU's austerity project is bound up with rationalising tendencies - building a better tax-collecting apparatus, etc. So, the tendencies toward 'passive revolution' are, I would say, sharpened further. Coterminous with this, the 'Caesarist' tendencies are sharpening as well. If the coalition government is the beginning of Caesarism in a parliamentary age, then the emergence of cross-party coalitions around a 'technocratic' agenda of fundamental institutional and social restructuring represents the beginnings of a Caesarist legion. One thing that Buci-Glucksmann was certainly right about was that the historic bloc, in its 'expansive unity', is the antithesis of the 'passive revolution' based on cynical, bureaucratic power bloc manouevering. The question is whether a new historical bloc can be forged in the popular struggles, with its strategic axis the hegemony of the working class and its forms of democracy.
Labels: bourgeois revolution, gramsci, hegemony, historical bloc, passive revolution, power bloc, socialism, socialist strategy, state, working class
Friday, January 20, 2012
The state of the 18th Brumaire posted by Richard Seymour
You have been penned in, kettled, assaulted and arrested. You have had your protest broken up, your occupation invaded, your picket line disbanded. Now you're facing something called 'Total Policing'. Wherever you try to organise, you confront the state as the constant factor in your disorganisation. Whether 'personated', as Marx puts it, by the riot cop, the senior civil servant, or the coalition minister, you find it is always there, resourceful, organised, centralised, almost always one or two steps ahead, almost always with a monopoly on political initiative. Of course, the state represents itself as a popular, democratic institution, upholding the general will, maintaining law and order as the condition for the full participation of each in the political community. Yet your experience suggests that something else is at work, and you have to ask: what sort of thing is the state? Is it even a thing? Is it an autonomous power over and against society, or does it 'represent' sectional (class) interests within it? Is it an 'instrument' of the powerful or a venue of contestation? What are its boundaries? Where are its weaknesses? How does its power accumulate, and disintegrate?***
I was talking to Dan Hind several years ago over a fried lunch, and he explained his interest in what he termed "the mystery of the state". I said, rather crudely, that I thought there was no mystery. I invoked Lenin's famous de-mystification: the state is special bodies of armed men, prisons, bureaucracy, and so on. He looked at me like I was a mad monk reciting arcane scripture. It was a fair cop. My answer was question-begging, rather like defining a football game as special bodies of uniformed men, balls, goalposts, etc. I hadn't resolved the mystery at all, merely listed the obvious clues. After all, football also consists of relations between its uniformed men, and between those and their managers, and in turn between those and their owners and shareholders, and between all of these and media companies, and shopping outlets, and paying fans. It consists of a social-structural 'script', a set of codified rules with definite social origins, class-based cultural forms, political antagonisms (Rangers v Celtic etc), mass spectacle, commodity production, and so much more. The "mystery of football", aside from its popularity, could only be resolved by disclosing the complex, mediated relations between all of these aspects. I returned to my fried egg, dejectedly poking holes in the disgustingly glutinous texture of the solidified white. In fairness, my summary of Lenin was rather... summary. The widely recited phrase from State and Revolution is an extremely bowdlerised version of the argument if left at that. Lenin was interested in the relationship between the state and social classes, its origin and development, its strategic role in class struggles, and so on. His engagement with the marxist tradition - in what is, after all, intended to be a rousing pamphlet, a guide to action rather than a monograph or treatise - is extraordinarily sharp, even if he ultimately cleaves to an instrumentalist account of the state, which I think marxists must reject. But enough about my namesake.
The mystery of the state would not go away, because the state would not go away. Far from retreating to the perimeters of the 'economic', guarding its boundaries but otherwise allowing 'civil society' to go about its business in laissez-faire fashion, it was everywhere, pro-actively formulating and implementing agendas and strategies, domestically and overseas. War, sanctions, special forces operations, internment, deportation and special rendition are only the most brute, mail-fisted manifestations of the state. What about the coordination of ideological agendas on 'Britishness', 'integration', 'culture' and so on? What about the coordination of bank bailouts, and subsequent austerity programmes? What about 'workfare' and privatization? In fact, it seemed increasingly apparent that whereas the capitalist class itself was constantly divided, constantly at its own throat, rarely capable of sustained class initiatives by itself, the state was always there doing something that in one way or another furthered the reproduction of capitalist relations in new ways. And insofar as it did this, it seemed to be not just a state but a capitalist state.
Part of the mystery dissolved there and then. It had been a mistake to try to penetrate the core of the state as a sui generis form. There can be no general theory of the state. The state is not an eternal form that recurs through successive ages, modes of production and social formations, and to read it as such tends to lead to a Hobbesian view of the state as an instrument for the suppression of 'anarchy' (social conflict). At most, one can have a general, descriptive outline of what distinguishes a state apparatus (special bodies of armed men, etc), or a genealogy of types of state, noting the factors that recur (though even these factors will have an entirely different content, and stand in different relations to one another, depending on the historical epoch in which they are embedded). But it is possible to have a theory of the capitalist state, and the best way to approach it seems to be confront the state in its setting, the social formation.
***
This is what the 18th Brumaire of Louis Bonaparte does, among other things. Its refined lapidary style and mordant ironising also make it a literary classic. This is a strange thing in a way, but what pomo theorists would call its 'mode of emplotment' is deployed with a deliberate pedagogical purpose. The satirical deflation is intended to show how potentially world-historical events were always doomed to be reduced to low farce, how the movement of forces under various banners constituted a hollow pantomime of revolution. The essay surveys the political circumstances of Louis Bonaparte's coup d'etat on 2nd December 1851. This is where the title comes from: because, for Marx, this coup is a farcical repetition of Napoleon Bonaparte's tragic putsch on the 18th Brumaire VIII (9th November 1799). From tragedy to farce - you see how literary parody is already inscribed in the first words of the text. In its parodic appropriation of French history and bourgeois literary traditions, the 18th Brumaire penetrates layers of appearance - not so as to dispose of these layers as so much subterfuge (aha, behind the iron mask of Napoleon lies the unheroic, icy calculation of the bourgeois!) but to show their necessity and efficacy; not to dismiss them but to enact them, to show them at work.
Now, the 18th Brumaire is an extended analysis of a political situation. But from that comes a subtle diagnosis of the French social formation, and particularly the French state, in its conjuncture. The text's elegant movements between different levels of analysis, mediating between the abstract and the concrete (or, if you will, the concrete-in-thought), shifting from the political to the ideological to productive relations, its extremely subtle and suggestive analysis of masks and decoys, and the movements between semiosis and performance, discourse theory avant la lettre and strategic class analysis, make it an exceptionally rich study. Though Marx was writing very shortly after the events, moreover, he did so in a determinedly historical, rather than journalistic, mode: the complex periodisation, the way Marx maps the temporal structure of events and charts the strategic possibilities in each phase, is indicative of how seriously he takes the historical aspect of his purpose. He is determined to relate these events to deep historical dynamics, even before the dust has fully settled, and moreover to do so in a way that grasps their singularity. That is why those marxist theorists most concerned with the idiographic, above all Gramsci, have continually returned to the 18th Brumaire. This lengthy preface is by way of explaining and justifying the focus on one text by Marx to examine the question of the state.
***
In assessing the grotesqueries of 1848-51, Marx developed the elements of a theory of the state for the first time, a project he intended to continue in a sequel to Capital. For while Louis Bonaparte would seem to have simply reversed the gains of the bourgeois revolution, reinstating the absolute monarchy and "the shamelessly simple domination of the sword and cross", Marx insisted that his regime was in fact something new. And to understand it, one had to understand the social interests that had driven the struggle between the political forces and their situation in relation to one another that made it possible for Napoleon le Petit to take power. There had been a failed revolution: somehow the French bourgeoisie and popular classes had been unable to repeat the monumental achievement of 1789. The first difference between the two situations was that the era in which the bourgeoisie played the progressive historical role was being superceded. The development of capitalist relations and the opposing interests of capital and labour meant that the bourgeoisie was becoming an increasingly conservative class. The second was the growing fractionalisation of the ruling class, the major fractions being finance-capital, industry and landlords. The latter were represented as rival monarchist factions in the Party of Order. The Legitimists were allied to the landlords, while the Orleanists were allied to high finance. In principle, these were supporters of different monarchic dynasties, but organised within this rivalry was the sectional struggle of competing class fractions for hegemony within the state. And in that struggle, they waged a war for the support of subordinate classes: for example, the Legitimists sometimes posed as defenders of the working class against the exploitative industrial and financial capitalists. Once again, the layers of appearance, the pageantry of ancient intrigue and birthright, codify and represent very modern conflicts. The question of political representation, in its many senses, is at the centre of Marx's analysis here. In this connection, note also that the landlords are included as a fraction of the capitalist class, because "large landed property, despite its feudal coquetry and pride of race, has been rendered thoroughly bourgeois by the developments of modern society".
At any rate, if the bourgeoisie was thus divided and weakened, the weakness of the proletariat, its youth and lack of development, meant that it was unable to take the leadership of national politics. Nor was it able to form the class alliances that would be necessary for the left of the revolution to prevail. Marx had written in 1848 of how it would be necessary for the urban workers to unite with rural proletarians and revolutionary peasants. But in the end the urban working class was isolated. So, there was a sort of stand-off between classes, a stasis that no one class is able to resolve. The resolution of the stand-off fell to Louis-Napoleon Bonaparte, a dim gaffeur who nonetheless managed to channel a multitude of social interests in his person. Napoleon le Petit, as Victor Hugo named him, had been the candidate of the monarchist right because he was seen as an exponent of order; of the industrialists, because of his liberal economic views; and of the passive majority of the rural classes, for whom the name of Bonaparte meant something (national greatness) as opposed to nothing. "The most simple-minded man in France," Marx said, "acquired the most multifarious significance." His main opponent, Cavaignac, was opposed by a similarly broad range of forces, including the socialists for whom he was tainted by his military career and his involvement in the massacre of workers. The 'democratic socialist' Ledru-Rollin was distrusted by the urban working class for the same reason. Bonaparte, meanwhile, also summoned the support of the so-called 'lumpenproletariat', consisting of declassed peasants and workers, soldiers, adventurers, crooks and so on. It was on this social basis that the Society of 10 December, a pro-Bonaparte faction, rested. But Bonaparte did not 'represent' all of these classes in the same way, an important point to which we'll return. He took the presidency in alliance with the party of Order, before eventually disposing of the latter and declaring himself Napoleon III, and Emperor of the French.
Before launching into the issue of 'Bonapartism' and its relation to state theory, though, it is important to see in motion: the jostling of massed forces; the shifting of masses under different political banners; the fractionalisation of the ruling class; the complex and sudden changes in representative techniques; and the way in which the state is contested and occupied. Using Marx's periodisation without attempting to imitate his style (which would be a severe discourtesy to the original), I will describe a loose schema of this process.
***
Marx begins with the First Period: "From 24 February to 4 May 1848. February period. Prologue. Universal brotherhood swindle." The February revolution of 1848 had disposed of the monarchy, and brought into being the Second Republic. The social forces united in the creation of this republic were, at first, bourgeois liberals and workers. The 'swindle' was the bourgeoisie's promise to defend the interests of workers, the struggling petty bourgeoisie (particularly the artisans whose way of life was in crisis), and the educated for whom there were few posts of status available. Thus bourgeois republicans promised to create a democratic and social republic. They extended the franchise to millions of male workers, and relaxing repression and censorship. Hundreds of newspapers flourished that spring. In principle, Marx argues, the democratic republic is an ideal form of class rule for capital - in a phrase, the democratic republic is the dictatorship of the bourgeoisie. But it also creates the political terrain in which the bourgeoisie's contest with the proletariat becomes open, and the 'swindle' of universal brotherhood melts into air. The bourgeoisie initially honoured its social commitments by adding a proto-welfare state to the democratic republic, with National Workshops (effectively nationalised businesses) giving work to the unemployed. 100,000 were thus employed by the end of May. All this, the better to consolidate their dictatorship under the banner of universal brotherhood: but this was where the 'swindle' began to break down.
The second period was that during which the republic and Constituent National Assembly are convoked, and is broken up into three sub-phases: "1. From 4 May to 25 June 1848. Struggle of all classes against the proletariat. Defeat of the proletariat in the June days." The bourgeoisie had already started to resent the taxes it had to pay to support the Workshops, and the growing pressure mounted by workers through the new democratic institutions. It led a generalised shift to the right among an alliance of classes against the proletariat, and the April elections were won by conservatives and moderates. By June, the workshops were being closed down. The barricades were once more erected in the capital, and the bourgeois republicans became outright reactionaries. Working class resistance in the capital was crushed by the National Guard, with 1500 killed during the suppression, 3000 murdered afterward, and 12000 deported to labour camps in colonial Algeria - or, in the familiar refrain of the bourgeoisie, order was restored.
The second sub-phase of the second period: "From 25 June to 10 December 1848. Dictatorship of the pure bourgeois-republicans. Drafting of the Constitution. Proclamation of a state of siege in Paris. The bourgeois dictatorship set aside on 10 December by the election of Bonaparte as President." The defeat of the left and the working class left the state apparatus under the leadership of a "pure" bourgeois-republican bloc that was still moving to the right, albeit with a small opposition from radicals and the social democratic Montagne. The constitution was revised in a highly conservative manner, striking out clauses supporting a 'right to work', and leaving education in the control of the Catholic church among other things. Sub-phase 3: "From 20 December 1848 to 28 May 1849. Struggle of the Constituent Assembly with Bonaparte and with the party of Order in alliance with him. Passing of the Constituent Assembly. Fall of the republican bourgeoisie." During this phase, the conservative Party of Order was increasingly dependent on Bonaparte, and increasingly at odds with the 'pure' bourgeois republicans. The rule of the latter came to an end in the legislative elections of 28 May 1849, when the Party of Order won a substantial victory. This reflected, as much as anything else, the continued right-ward swerve of the bourgeoisie, and its rejection of the republicans.
The third period is the most complex, punctuated by three sub-phases, the last of which is itself broken down into four parts. Sub-phase 1: "From 28 May 1849 to 13 June 1849. Struggle of the petty bourgeoisie with the bourgeoisie and with Bonaparte. Defeat of the petty-bourgeois democracy." While the right had won the elections, a radical minority of republicans and socialists, known as the Montagne, had been elected to the legislature with 25% of the vote. For Marx, they represented a kind of petty bourgeois socialism which consisted mainly of the reform and perfection of capitalism: the big bourgeoisie exploits us through finance, so we want credit institutions; it crushes us through competition, so we want protection from the state; etc. The Montagne continued to resist the Party of Order in parliament, and were expelled from the Assembly for their trouble. Sub-phase 2: "From 13 June 1849 to 31 May 1850. Parliamentary dictatorship of the party of Order. It completes its rule by abolishing universal suffrage, but loses the parliamentary ministry." The Party of Order held the ministry in alliance with Louis-Napoleon, and held together a more or less stable government until elections were held again in 1850. During these elections, the left swept the board in Paris. In response, the Party of Order decided to get rid of universal male suffrage and cut about 30% of voters off the rolls.
Sub-phase 3 contains the most complex and compressed sequence of movements. Marx begins: "From 31 May 1850 to 2 December 1851. Struggle between the parliamentary bourgeoisie and Bonaparte." This is the decisive movement that makes Louis-Napoleon's coup d'etat possible. Marx breaks down the period into four discrete steps. First, in the period until 12 January 1851, parliament lost "the supreme command of the army" to Louis-Napoleon. Second, in the time until 11 April 1851, the weakness of the Party of Order in the Legislative Assembly forced it to form a coalition with the radicals it had previously expelled. Third, in the period until 9 October 1851, the Party of Order "decomposes into its separate constitutents", with growing antagonism between the executive (Louis-Napoleon) and parliament, and a "breach between the bourgeois parliament and press and the mass of the bourgeoisie". Finally, in the period until the coup d'etat, the breach between parliament and executive power became more open. Parliament was abandoned "by its own class, by the army, and by all the remaining classes". Bourgeois rule passed away, with no resistance. Foreknowledge of the coup and the ineptitude of its leadership did not prevent its success. Thus: "Victory of Bonaparte. Parody of restoration of empire."
***
As mentioned, the "parody" of imperial restoration here is in fact a modern tale of a failure of class capacities, a collapse in bourgeois initiative and leadership, the bathos of slogans betrayed before the ink has dried. It is about a particular from of bourgeois state in which the bourgeoisie does not rule. Prior to the revolution, the bourgeoisie had not ruled, merely "one faction of it: bankers, stock-exchange kings, railway kings, owners of coal and iron mines and forests, a part of the landed proprietors associated with them—the so-called finance aristocracy." Also excluded were, of course, workers, the "petty bourgeoisie of all gradations" and the peasants. Even the industrialists were in opposition. "On the other hand, the smallest financial reform was wrecked due to the influence of the bankers." At the end of the farce of 1848-51, the bourgeoisie was once again out of power. In fact, no class had been able to take power: in power was the state apparatus itself, the increasingly powerful bureaucratic and military machinery, which had obtained a degree of autonomy from the contending social classes. It was powerful enough, independent enough, that a drunken adventurer supported by the lumpenproletariat and smallholding peasants could suffice for its head. This was, in a word, the 'Ceasarist', or the 'Bonapartist' regime.
There are three immediate elements to this kind of regime. The first is the autonomy of the state apparatus from the contending classes; the second is the existence of a passive popular base for the regime; the third is that the bourgeoisie, by surrendering its political dominance, has retained its dominance at the level of productive relations. The concept of Caesarism has since been developed in many directions. Gramsci notably used the concept as a basis for the analysis of fascism, though it has also been a habitual recourse wherever populist governments of one sort or another have appeared. Other theorists, often influenced by Althusser, have argued that the analysis confirms a more general 'relative autonomy' of the state apparatus. These are leads that I do not intend to pursue at the moment; I merely list them to indicate that the theoretical (and thus political) consequences of this study, the Eighteenth Brumaire, are profound and contested.
What I instead want to do is draw out some implications of Marx's survey. First is the extraordinary power of the state as an apparatus in itself, the sort of power that could enable it to act as a more or less autonomous force in society. This is far more evident today than in the period Marx was describing. Second is the relation to social classes. It is not merely the occupation of the state that determines its class role: the structure of the state itself is not class-neutral. This is not to say that the class basis of a particular state can be read off from its various features. After all, if a democratic republic is ideal for a bourgeoisie in rude health, a dictatorship of some sort (not necessarily a Caesarist dictatorship) may be its saviour in crisis. The question, as Goran Therborn suggests, is what role the state plays in advancing, allowing or inhibiting the further reproduction of capitalist social relations. Third is the relation between the state and civil society. Although the state is not class-neutral - and for this reason, Marx takes the view that it must be dismantled rather than perfected - it is nonetheless a terrain which is traversed by contesting classes in representational struggles. It is impossible to be indifferent to the forms of representation that take place. Not because these are 'reflections' of 'real' class struggles taking place outside of the political system, but because they are highly mediated forms of class struggle in themselves. And because the representation of classes within the state has a formative effect on the behaviour of classes within civil society. When representation breaks down, the political forces in parliament become useless, unmoored: but the class forces they have tried to represent are thereby also disenfranchised. Fourth, the state has a particular role in relation to the fractionalisation of the ruling class. Such fractionalisation is an inevitable aspect of capitalist development, and is merely one of the ways in which a 'general' bourgeois interest is only possible under the hegemony of one of its fractions. In addition to fractionalisation is the individuation of and competition between members of the capitalist class. The result is that were it not for the state's ability to act as a unifying factor, organising the power of social classes within the apparatus itself, the capitalist class might be constantly, as I suggested earlier, at its own throat. Poulantzas suggested that the separation of powers - executive, legislative and judicial - could be understood in terms of a distribution of power in which the hegemonic class or fraction controls the executive. Either way, the state must play a pro-active role in securing the unity of the dominant classes; and by extension the disunity of the dominated classes.
Labels: capitalist state, class politics, class struggle, classes, eighteenth brumaire, marx, marxism, police, state
Monday, November 08, 2010
Cops who hate the working class posted by Richard Seymour
But The Cops was well-researched, and implicitly on the side of the working class people whom the police found themselves in conflict with. The show depicted police men and women without assuming that they should be glamorous, conscientious, or heroic. More often than not, they were anti-working class bigots. In one characteristic scene, set on a deprived estate, two police officers talk about how hated they are on the estate. One looks at a passing mother, with children, and says: "Look at 'em - breedin' like rabbits. I'm sick of them all. Dirty, thievin', lyin' scumbags. I'm sick of 'em." The police hated the programme, and withdrew their advisory role after the first series. Stories like this remind you that it isn't just fiction, and tell you a lot about the attitudes of the police, which are misleadingly described as 'canteen culture':
Hayley Adamson was hit by a police car which had been travelling at more than 90mph in a 30mph zone in Newcastle.
The 16-year-old was killed instantly and the accident provoked a hostile reaction from local youths in the working class area of Scotswood.
The driver, Pc John Dougal, had been pursuing a suspicious vehicle when the accident happened in May 2008.
Dougal was later convicted of causing death by dangerous driving and jailed for three years. The case led to heavy criticism of Northumbria Police.
Shortly after Hayley's death, it was revealed that a 'black box' computer fitted to the car had failed to record details of the officer's driving.
The force were also criticised in March this year after they put themselves forward for a public relations award over their handling of the media coverage of the case.
They later apologised to Hayley's family.
Now it has been revealed that a policewoman at the scene of the accident allegedly referred to Hayley as a 'Scotchie scumbag'.
Scotchie is a nickname for the Scotswood area, which is one of the region's most deprived areas.
As is usual with incidents where police are implicated in appalling, and perhaps revealing, conduct, leniency is sought, and all too often offered, on the grounds that the police have a difficult, stressful job. (There are a few examples in the comments thread below the cited article, among the usual batshittery). This neatly shifts the focus from the question of what is acceptable behaviour by public authorities, and more generally from what examples like this tell us about the authority in question, to the issue of extenuating circumstances, difficulties faced by people 'on the front line'. It also directs us also to instinctively take the side of the police officers in their daily conflicts, where it may not be sensible to do so.
It would be more appropriate to stick with the subject. Why would coppers behave like this, have these attitudes? Certainly, social authoritarianism comes with the job. And certainly, those sections of the working class who don't do what they're told would seem to pose a problem for the police. Their job is administer, to uphold the existing social relations and to ensure that their rules are not routinely breached. They would see their job, in a certain light, as being one of social control on deprived estates which suffer from higher rates of vandalism and property offenses. Because of the increased rate of confrontation between police and local people, especially young people, there is an antagonism and suspicion between them, so that the police are also less likely to get compliant cooperation out of the people on poor estates. The relationship between the police and working class populations thus reflects the broader social antagonism that they're a part of. Here, I don't accept the probably common view that the average bobby belongs to the working class. I think that the relationship of the policeman to the means of production is actually very similar to that of any middle class professional, in that they exert authority over the working class on behalf of the owners. In a word, cops are basically managers, junior managers, foremen and supervisors with big sticks and funny hats.
It is that situation which produces the conflicts that coppers face daily, which leads to them being spat on, yelled at in the streets, and hated by many, and which also leads to them roughing people up, killing people in custody, racially abusing suspects or non-suspects, harrassing kids, and so on. No doubt it is exhausting. No doubt the police man or woman goes home feeling tired, disgusted, emotionally drained, sick to the back teeth of the kinds of people they encounter everyday. No doubt this coarsening, hardening, grinding experience of daily confrontation leads to a certain contempt for political correctness and anything else which could be seen as hypocritical, pretentious or soft-headed. No doubt that is what leads to a police woman referring to a working class girl, killed moments ago by a fellow officer, as "scum". But there's nothing in this that redeems the police woman's motives, or mitigates the offence. Rather, it just calls for the casting of a wider net of critique.
Labels: capitalism, class society, middle class, police, police brutality, state










