Most people of a certain age, particularly in the West, when they think of communism today, think of it as an utter failure, as the evil empire, and as something that defeated by the capitalist and democratic West, and particularly by America, during the Cold War from the late 1940s to the 1990s. Communism was, however, more than the demonic force of polemicists and more than the last great hope for humankind of its apologists. It was a social movement that was at the heart of global economics, politics, and culture during most of the twentieth century.
David Priestland in his The Red Flag: A History of Communism (New York: Grove, 2009) explores the history of communism from its beginnings in the late 18th century to today. Just as sociologists of religion have tried to escape the iron cage of orthodox and heretical polemics and apologetics via dispassionate typology, Priestland tries to escape the iron cage of polemics and apologetics about communism since the 19th century. Priestland delineates several ideal type forms of communism. There is, he argues, the romantic communism of the barricades with its romantic revolutionary hero. There is the science and industrialisation as progressive and history as teleological modernist communism. And there is pragmatic communism or socialism with its compromises with bourgeois "democracy" and nationalism, another very prominent cultural meaning system in the modern and postmodern world.
These varieties of communism are, Priestland argues, ideal types--an approach Max Weber pioneered in--varieties of communism that can be isolated in theory but often succeeded or proceeded one another, interacted with, and were often interrelated in practise, something Priestland nicely shows in his explorations of the history of communism in all its varieties from the 19th century on. Needless to say the empirical fact that there were multiple forms of communism and socialism was lost on many anti-communist polemicists and pro-communist apologists, like the Bolsheviks, who argued, similarly to the Catholic Church when it maintains that it is the only true variety of Christianity, that there was only one true variety of communism, For the Bolsheviks and for those who demonised Bolshevism, the only variety of communism was Marxism-Leninism-Stalinism.
There are a number of points about communism that Priestland makes in his synthesis that I wholeheartedly agree with. Priestland rightly emphasises that war played an important role in the
rise of revolutionary, modernist, and pragmatic varieties of communism
and that communism was a reaction to the hierarchies and inequalities of
the modern world.
Priestland notes that communism was and is a meaning system and that as a cultural meaning system it has similarities to religious meaning systems that originated in the Mediterranean world and which are still with us today, Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. Revolutionary communism, for example, whose cultural or meaning system developed in the context of war, initially the French Revolution and the European revolutions that followed, in the context of great economic change--the advent of mass capitalism and mass industrialisation--in the context of political change--the coming of mass politics and mass bureaucracies--and in the context of cultural change, created a social movement around a culture opposed to hierarchies and inequalities associated with industrialism and capitalism (and later imperialism) along with a cult of the romantic hero manning the revolutionary barricades a la Hugo. Modernist communism developed a culture that saw industrialisation and science as progressive and the triumph of communism as historically inevitable, a triumph that would result, modernist communists believed, in the end history (teleology). Revolutionary and modernist communisms even had their own catechism, Stalin's Short Course, for example.
By looking at communism as a social movement with a culture that creates a sense of identity and a sense of a community with a mission, it is clear that communism shares a lot with Western Christianity and Islam. Looking at communism in this way also allows us to see how communism shares a lot with a Weberian understanding of the sectarian process. Weber argued that most religious groups or culturally oriented social movements began in charisma, the charisma of a charismatic leader. As a result a sense of identity arose out of a common perception of that charismatic leader, and a strong sense of community with a mission to evangelise the message of that charismatic leader arose. Over time, Weber argued, particularly with the death of a charismatic leader, the charismatic sect morphs into a paternalistic church or denomination, and eventually, with the coming of modernity, into a rational bureaucratic church or denomination. With bureaucratisation, however, Weber argued, came dissent and the claim that the bureaucratic church or denomination was only a shade of what it originally was. As a result new sects seeking to capture the primitive or original spirit of the charismatic sect arose setting in motion the sect/church/denomination cycle anew. As Priesland makes clear communism of the romantic and modernist varieties with their conviction that they and they alone had the truth (ethnocentrism) and that others needed to be told of this truth (evangelisation) led to periodic purification or inquisitional campaigns, periodic renewal campaigns, and periodic sectarianisation within the communist movement. Think of all the varieties of Trotskyism over the years.
Ironically, as Priestland points out, this sense of ideological purity, the need for renewal, and evangelical fervour, is not only found in Christianity, Islam, and communism. It can also be readilly discerned in the neo-liberalisms of the twentieth and twenty-first centuries. Like Christianity, Islam, and communism neo-liberals, particularly in their revolutionary and modernist forms, claim to have a monopoly on the truth--free markets as god's or nature's economic system--tend to be exclusive and purificationist thanks to their I'm OK, you are not OK, if you want to be OK you need to be like me mentalities, and tend to have a belief in the necessity of bringing their one truth message to the rest of world via evangelisation. Neo-liberals, in other words, as Priestland notes, are somewhat inverted communists.
Priestland rightly notes that communism in comparison with capitalism was more transparent. Capitalism thanks to its almost occult and magical take on the workings of the market, was and perhaps is a more powerful ideology and opiate than communism. Those in the communist world could more readily see, particularly after the Soviet invasions of Hungary and Czechoslovakia, that the equality and radiant future that communism preached seemed at odds with the realities of inequality, perks for the powerful, and the seemingly endless putting off of the utopia at the end of the communist radiant rainbow. Neo-liberalism, in other words, with its ideology that inequality is inevitable thanks to the workings of the free market and variations in how hard one works and its messianic utopianism--everyone will benefit from the free market--is a more difficult drug for the masses to see through, claims Priestland. It is so difficult to see through that many believe, despite the oligarchic republicanism present in the West to varying degrees, despite inequalities and increasing inequality between rich and poor in the West and particularly in the US and UK, that individuals are responsible for their own destinies, that individuals make their own beds and must, as a result, lie in them.
While there are other equally dispassionate ways to typologise communisms--one might distinguish between utopian, scientific, and communal forms of communism--Priestland's approach is not only helpful but, and this is critical, more dispassionate than the capitalist "democracy" versus evil godless commie approach, an approach that parallels the religious orthodoxy versus religious heresy typology that has has dominated popular and even intellectual and academic approaches to communism. As Priestland notes it is absolutely essential to put the polemical and apologetic approach to rest if we are to truly understand the "nature" of socialisms and communisms of all types and communist dynamics.
Priestland's book doesn't, by the way, simply give us a glimpse into the social movements of the left. It also gives us an analogical glimpse into the social movements of the right. We currently live in an era of vast inequalities, of periodic conflicts, and of hardening hierarchies, all of which have led to the revival of the romantic capitialist nationalism of the American, Polish, Austrian, British, Hungarian, Philippine, and British varieties. Given this reality, Priestland's superb book should be self-recommending not only to those interested in social movements of the left but to those concerned about the revival of the romantic right and who are interested in social movements of the right. The more things change...
Where I, Ron, blog on a variety of different subjects--social theoretical, historical, cultural, political, social ethical, the media, and so on (I got the Max Weber, the Mark Twain, and the Stephen Leacock in me)--in a sometimes Niebuhrian or ironic way all with an attitude. Enjoy. Disagree. Be very afraid particularly if you have a socially and culturally constructed irrational fear of anything over 140 characters.
Friday, 23 August 2019
Sunday, 18 August 2019
The Books of My Life: Ten Lessons in Introductory Sociology
Given that I have taught history, communication, cultural anthropology, and sociology over the years I have had ample opportunity to read several textbooks books in each of those disciplines. Recently I used Kenneth Gould's and Tammy Lewis's (editors) Ten Lessons in Introductory Sociology (New York: Oxford University Press, second edition, 2018) in my Introduction to Sociology class and so I thought I would briefly share my thoughts about the book.
Ten Lessons in Introductory Sociology is made up of ten chapters ranging through Sociological Theory, Sociological Methods, Culture, Society, Inequality, Race, Gender, Social Change, Globalisation, and Applied Sociology, the last a rarity in introductory sociology texts but a nice addition given student interest in doing something practical with their academic major. As an introductory textbook ten lessons has several advantages. It is inexpensive in an era when introductory textbooks can cost an arm and a leg, a concern particularly important to students who are from middle and working class backgrounds. It goes for a topical and integrative approach instead of the encyclopedic approach of many introductory textbooks which can be confusing and mind numbing for many students. The topical chapters are written by specialists in the subfield. The topics selected for the book--all textbooks are inevitably selective--seem reasonable and rational. The boxes on food for thought in the chapters are often superb and relevant to students in their everyday lives allowing them to learn about sociology by putting everyday things into sociological context. The index also serves as the glossary which will be a plus for many. On the downside--every introductory text has a downside--I wasn't always clear about the source of the data referenced within the topical chapters. The text is more applied and hence ideological than many other introductory textbooks and this may be a problem for some. The book's Introduction is far more selective than I would have liked it to be. Recommended.
Ten Lessons in Introductory Sociology is made up of ten chapters ranging through Sociological Theory, Sociological Methods, Culture, Society, Inequality, Race, Gender, Social Change, Globalisation, and Applied Sociology, the last a rarity in introductory sociology texts but a nice addition given student interest in doing something practical with their academic major. As an introductory textbook ten lessons has several advantages. It is inexpensive in an era when introductory textbooks can cost an arm and a leg, a concern particularly important to students who are from middle and working class backgrounds. It goes for a topical and integrative approach instead of the encyclopedic approach of many introductory textbooks which can be confusing and mind numbing for many students. The topical chapters are written by specialists in the subfield. The topics selected for the book--all textbooks are inevitably selective--seem reasonable and rational. The boxes on food for thought in the chapters are often superb and relevant to students in their everyday lives allowing them to learn about sociology by putting everyday things into sociological context. The index also serves as the glossary which will be a plus for many. On the downside--every introductory text has a downside--I wasn't always clear about the source of the data referenced within the topical chapters. The text is more applied and hence ideological than many other introductory textbooks and this may be a problem for some. The book's Introduction is far more selective than I would have liked it to be. Recommended.
Saturday, 10 August 2019
The Books of My Life: Russian Literature (Wachtel and Vinitsky)
One of the loves of my life has been literature, particularly Russian literature. Andrew Baruch Wachtel and Ilya Vinitsky argue in their Russian Literature (Cambridge, Eng., Polity, Cultural History of Literature series, 2009) that there are two broad ways to approach a national literary tradition. The first is the traditional approach which explores the internal development of a literary tradition and concentrates on single authors. The second is the cultural approach which puts art--literature, poetry, theatre, art music, opera, ballet, painting, architecture, and sculpture into its broader environmental--national and international--cultural and social contexts.
It is the latter approach that Wachtel and Vinitsky take in their superb book, Russian Literature. By taking this broad approach, however, Wachter and Vinitsky do not ignore the internal development of Russian literature from the Kievan Rus period to the 21st century, a literary tradition which, along with art in general in Russia and the Soviet Union, was at the heart of questions associated with Russian and Soviet identity and Russian and Soviet social issues. Each chapter, which is largely chronological, puts Russian literature in its broader cultural and social contexts by exploring a key author of the era, a key literary work of the era, and a key event of the era. By taking this approach Wachtel and Vinitsky are able, through the microcosm of key authors, key works, and key events, to get at the macro level of Russian literature and Russian culture.
There is a lot to admire in Wachtel's and Vinitsky's book. I liked how they put culture or meaning at the heart of their analysis of Russian literature. I appreciated how they explored the cultural messianism, apocalypticism, and exceptionalism at the heart of Russian and Soviet culture and literature, a messianism, apocalypticism, and exceptionalism that is hardly a monopoly of Russia and the USSR and which can also be found in American culture, Canadian culture, Australian culture, Kiwi culture, and Israeli culture. to pick but a few of many examples. I liked how they showed interconnections between European cultural and artistic movements and those in Russia and the USSR and vice versa. I appreciated their ability to explore how broader economic and political factors affected Russian culture, art, and literature. I liked their often incisive analysis of Russian and Soviet art and literary works. Their discussion of Andrey Platonov's Kotlovan (English translation: Foundation Pit), for instance, was fascinating and made a lot of sense. I greatly appreciated that they moved beyond the manichean rhetoric of so much romantic Western Sovietology of good outsiders and bad insiders in the post-Thaw USSR by recognising that there were insiders, outsiders, insider-outsiders, and outsider-insiders in the Soviet Russian art community.
I can't recommend Wachtel's and Vinitsky's book more highly. This is one of the best books I have ever read on Western culture, Western art, Western literature, Russian culture, Russian art, and Russian literature. I highly recommend it to anyone interested in any of these subjects and in culture and culture theory in general.
It is the latter approach that Wachtel and Vinitsky take in their superb book, Russian Literature. By taking this broad approach, however, Wachter and Vinitsky do not ignore the internal development of Russian literature from the Kievan Rus period to the 21st century, a literary tradition which, along with art in general in Russia and the Soviet Union, was at the heart of questions associated with Russian and Soviet identity and Russian and Soviet social issues. Each chapter, which is largely chronological, puts Russian literature in its broader cultural and social contexts by exploring a key author of the era, a key literary work of the era, and a key event of the era. By taking this approach Wachtel and Vinitsky are able, through the microcosm of key authors, key works, and key events, to get at the macro level of Russian literature and Russian culture.
There is a lot to admire in Wachtel's and Vinitsky's book. I liked how they put culture or meaning at the heart of their analysis of Russian literature. I appreciated how they explored the cultural messianism, apocalypticism, and exceptionalism at the heart of Russian and Soviet culture and literature, a messianism, apocalypticism, and exceptionalism that is hardly a monopoly of Russia and the USSR and which can also be found in American culture, Canadian culture, Australian culture, Kiwi culture, and Israeli culture. to pick but a few of many examples. I liked how they showed interconnections between European cultural and artistic movements and those in Russia and the USSR and vice versa. I appreciated their ability to explore how broader economic and political factors affected Russian culture, art, and literature. I liked their often incisive analysis of Russian and Soviet art and literary works. Their discussion of Andrey Platonov's Kotlovan (English translation: Foundation Pit), for instance, was fascinating and made a lot of sense. I greatly appreciated that they moved beyond the manichean rhetoric of so much romantic Western Sovietology of good outsiders and bad insiders in the post-Thaw USSR by recognising that there were insiders, outsiders, insider-outsiders, and outsider-insiders in the Soviet Russian art community.
I can't recommend Wachtel's and Vinitsky's book more highly. This is one of the best books I have ever read on Western culture, Western art, Western literature, Russian culture, Russian art, and Russian literature. I highly recommend it to anyone interested in any of these subjects and in culture and culture theory in general.
Saturday, 3 August 2019
The Books of My Life: Russian Classics in Soviet Jackets
The Russian literary tradition, of course, is one of the great literary traditions in the world. In the book Russian Classics in Soviet Jackets (New York: Columbia University Press, Studies of the Russian Institute, Columbia University, 1962) Maurice Freidberg explores what happened to the Russian classics in the USSR, the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, after the October Revolution of 1917.
Friedberg explores the history of publishing in the late Tsarist era and in the USSR to the 1960s. He explores the publication of books that became classics in 19th century Russia, their afterlives in the USSR, the attitude to and use of them by the Communist powers that be, how Soviet readers responded to or may respond to the Russian classics, and the impact the reading of the Russian classics may, in the future--for Friedberg the future was post 1960--on the survival of the USSR as an autocratic state.
I found a lot to admire in Friedberg's Russian Classics in Soviet Jackets. Friedberg is sensitive to history exploring how political changes and economic changes such as cosmopolitanism and nationalism affected the official interpretations of the Russian classics. He is sensitive to the dynamics and contexts of, in some cases, hypothetical readings of the Russian classics by the intelligentsia and the middlebrow and low brow masses. He makes several apt observations on the cross cultural similarities and differences between book publishing, literary genres, and reading habits in the USSR and in the West. He nicely uses quantitative data to explore the publication numbers of the Russian classics in the Soviet Union and the reading habits of Soviets and comparisons of Soviet reading habits with those of the West, though these would probably have been more useful had they been put in per capita terms. Additionally, one has to wonder about how, particularly when the data is derived from interviews with dissidents, representative the data is.
There are a few qualms I had about Friedberg's book. While Russian Classics in Soviet Jackets is still essential to an understanding of publishing in the USSR--Jeffrey Brooks's When Russia Learned to Read updates the story in late 19th century Russia and the years before the Revolution--the publication of Russian classics in the USSR, and reading of Russian classics in the USSR to the 1960s, it is now somewhat outdated. Friedberg, for example, mentions that detective and science fiction literary genres had not become widespread in the USSR. They did, however, become prominent and popular in the 1960s--science fiction had actually been popular earlier, Aleksey Tolstoy's Aelita, for instance, was popular in its literary and film forms in the 1920s--thanks to the Yulian Semyonov and the Strugatsky Brothers. Friedberg rightly notes how formulaic, paternalistic, puritanical, and moralising Soviet realist fiction was. Much of the popular fiction of the West, however, is as formulaic and both Soviet and Western children's literature is formulaic, paternalistic, and moralising as their Soviet counterparts. Friedberg only limitedly explores the differences between official and unofficial Soviet popular literary cultures, something that problematises, as Friedberg seems to admit at times, the totalitarian top down theoretical understanding of the Soviet Union. Friedberg reflects some of the cultural prejudices of his time as when he characterises Soviet mass culture in the same way that Frankfurt School Marxists and Conservative cultural critics in the West saw mass culture in the West, as the opiate of the masses and bread and circuses with little artistic merit. Instead, of course, as many have come to increasingly realise, beauty and value are in the socialised eyes of the beholder.
Reading Russian Classics and Soviet Jackets was an enlightening experience. I highly recommend it to anyone interested in late Tsarist and Soviet highbrow, middlebrow, and lowbrow culture, Russian literature, Russian reader dynamics, and literary cultures.
Friedberg explores the history of publishing in the late Tsarist era and in the USSR to the 1960s. He explores the publication of books that became classics in 19th century Russia, their afterlives in the USSR, the attitude to and use of them by the Communist powers that be, how Soviet readers responded to or may respond to the Russian classics, and the impact the reading of the Russian classics may, in the future--for Friedberg the future was post 1960--on the survival of the USSR as an autocratic state.
I found a lot to admire in Friedberg's Russian Classics in Soviet Jackets. Friedberg is sensitive to history exploring how political changes and economic changes such as cosmopolitanism and nationalism affected the official interpretations of the Russian classics. He is sensitive to the dynamics and contexts of, in some cases, hypothetical readings of the Russian classics by the intelligentsia and the middlebrow and low brow masses. He makes several apt observations on the cross cultural similarities and differences between book publishing, literary genres, and reading habits in the USSR and in the West. He nicely uses quantitative data to explore the publication numbers of the Russian classics in the Soviet Union and the reading habits of Soviets and comparisons of Soviet reading habits with those of the West, though these would probably have been more useful had they been put in per capita terms. Additionally, one has to wonder about how, particularly when the data is derived from interviews with dissidents, representative the data is.
There are a few qualms I had about Friedberg's book. While Russian Classics in Soviet Jackets is still essential to an understanding of publishing in the USSR--Jeffrey Brooks's When Russia Learned to Read updates the story in late 19th century Russia and the years before the Revolution--the publication of Russian classics in the USSR, and reading of Russian classics in the USSR to the 1960s, it is now somewhat outdated. Friedberg, for example, mentions that detective and science fiction literary genres had not become widespread in the USSR. They did, however, become prominent and popular in the 1960s--science fiction had actually been popular earlier, Aleksey Tolstoy's Aelita, for instance, was popular in its literary and film forms in the 1920s--thanks to the Yulian Semyonov and the Strugatsky Brothers. Friedberg rightly notes how formulaic, paternalistic, puritanical, and moralising Soviet realist fiction was. Much of the popular fiction of the West, however, is as formulaic and both Soviet and Western children's literature is formulaic, paternalistic, and moralising as their Soviet counterparts. Friedberg only limitedly explores the differences between official and unofficial Soviet popular literary cultures, something that problematises, as Friedberg seems to admit at times, the totalitarian top down theoretical understanding of the Soviet Union. Friedberg reflects some of the cultural prejudices of his time as when he characterises Soviet mass culture in the same way that Frankfurt School Marxists and Conservative cultural critics in the West saw mass culture in the West, as the opiate of the masses and bread and circuses with little artistic merit. Instead, of course, as many have come to increasingly realise, beauty and value are in the socialised eyes of the beholder.
Reading Russian Classics and Soviet Jackets was an enlightening experience. I highly recommend it to anyone interested in late Tsarist and Soviet highbrow, middlebrow, and lowbrow culture, Russian literature, Russian reader dynamics, and literary cultures.
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