The City and the City

Like my previous post, this is salvaged from the old blog

It must be from 2011. People less lazy than I can probably date it.

Earlier on this evening I was standing with the remnants of a small group of protesters outside the Millbank Tower. We were facing a line of police, who were clearly in the business of preventing a repeat of last year's escapades. Our day of demonstrating was coming to an end; somebody invited us to a party. At this point I said something to the effect that I'd prefer to go home and put my feet up with a mug of cocoa. I followed this up with an apologetic, "I'm a crap revolutionary". Perhaps, on the other hand, the point of socialist politics is to create a world where we can put our feet up with a good conscience. Either way, I should tell you how I ended up outside Millbank.

Millbank by night is a glorious sight

It was a long day for me, consisting of one meeting and three protests, surely the title of a less successful film by Richard Curtis. The early afternoon was spent at the Labour Briefing AGM. For those of you who don't know it, Briefing is a socialist journal read mainly by left-wingers within the Labour Party and the trade unions. I am involved in producing it and, since today's meeting, am on the editorial board.

The meeting itself was engaging. We were addressed by John McDonnell MP and George Binette from Camden UNISON. Louise talked to us about the UKUncut movement. We discussed the future direction of Briefing in particular, and the Labour left in general. To sum up the feeling of the meeting, there was a sense that this is an important time for the left, coupled with a realisation that the left in the Labour Party is in a weak state. For some people this issued in a certain pessimism, for others in a resolve to fight hard. I'll return to this.

During the meeting I followed the progress of the day's anti-cuts protests on my smartphone. I shared, to much amusement, the news that the baleful Aaron Porter had been escorted away by police from the Manchester march "for his own safety". Meanwhile, the ever vigilant Laurie was a constant source of news about events in London. It became clear that a large group of protesters had made their way to the Egyptian embassy in Mayfair to express their solidarity with the present struggles in that country. When the AGM finished, Louise, her partner, and I joined them.

I quickly lost the other two, as Louise went off to take some excellent photos. The mood of the demonstration at the embassy was exhilarating. By the time we got there a few hundred people, of all ages and backgrounds, were there, joining in chants alternately in Arabic and English. There was both an anger and a confidence about the gathering, both sustained in spite of the bitter cold. As is becoming traditional at such events, fires were lit to counteract this.

It was whilst warming myself by the above pictured fire that I learned that a group of protesters had gone to the TopShop on Oxford Circus - TopShop boss Phillip Green is a notorious tax avoider, and his stores have been frequent focuses for anti-cuts anger in recent months. I'd been inspired by Louise's account of the UKUncut demos, and decided to head over to Oxford Circus.

I was not, I'm afraid to say, very impressed with what I found there. A small group of anarchisty types were sitting down in front of the building, with a few others - one guy with a makeshift Green Party sign - standing around. Police lined the building. Shoppers made their way in and out of the building, ordinary people on their days off from work, many of them obviously confused, and even frightened. It was not clear who the chants of "bourgeois scum" were supposed to be directed against, and there were no apparent efforts to engage with shoppers about TopShop, tax, and the cuts.

I fully support targeting tax-avoiding and evading businesses as a protest tactic. It ties up the act of protest against cuts with a vision of an alternative, and it provides an opportunity for communicating with the wider public. Last year's UKUncut actions were exemplary in both respects. Unfortunately, what I saw this evening wasn't - it looked like a bunch of clichéd middle-class activists attacking shoppers. That wasn't what it was; but that's what it looked like. In some people a moralising anti-consumerism wasn't far from the surface - one of the assembled commented that "people are just annoyed because they want to buy shiny things on Saturdays". Yes, and why not? If this movement is to win, we need the great majority of those shoppers on side.

I retreated to a café for refreshment and to consider my next move. Twitter told me that stuff was happening in Piccadilly. So I decided to make my way there...

I didn't get very far before I was met face-on by a crowd of about two hundred people, mainly school-age, marching down the middle of the road shouting "Whose streets? Our streets?" Their placards revealed them to be part of the anti-cuts protest, something which was confirmed when the chant modulated to "No ifs, no buts, no public sector cuts". I was put in mind of Laurie Penny's description of one of last year's marches as a "children's crusade". I saw people who could not have been more than nine or ten years old. I went along with them.

For the next couple of hours we weaved our way around the West End, studiously avoiding being kettled by the police. A couple of vans' worth of police were omnipresent, but either unable, or unwilling, to halt the progress of this dexterous snake of dissent around the highways and byways of Westminster. Once two police horses rushed at a group of kids in an attempt to clear them from the road; they were promptly chased back in the direction they had came. On another occasion, officers made moves to arrest two teenage boys for the heinous crime of removing a traffic cone from one of Her Majesty's highways. The efforts of the boys' fellow protesters quickly dissuaded the constabulary from this course of action.

Our route was too convoluted for me to fully recall. Highlights included a second visit to TopShop. As we marched past this time there was no doubt what the message was - "Phillip Green, pay your taxes". We called on the Liberal Democrats at their HQ. Alas nobody was in: or if they were, they weren't letting on. Finally, we made our way to Millbank, a site which I suppose is the closest thing this movement has to a place of pilgrimage. As time went on, we became fewer in number, partly because we split up as an anti-kettling tactic, and partly because people began heading home. Throughout it all, I was buoyed up by the experience of marching alongside passionate and politicised people, some of them a third my age. There is a freshness and vibrancy about this movement which must be preserved.

So there we have it: two very different political experiences. The organisation and experience, tempered by a tendency to pessimism, of the seasoned labour movement activists at the AGM. The energetic rage and enthusiasm of the marchers, tempered inevitably by a certain inexperience - the dangers of which, whilst pleasingly absent on the march, were all too evident outside TopShop. The challenge for the left in the months to come is to act as a bridge. It falls to us to communicate the intensity, the desire for change, and the activist innovation from the anti-cuts movement to established labour movement institutions. That movement needs a voice within Labour, it needs political representation. At the same time, we have to make socialist ideas and analysis available to a new generation of protesters. This, it shouldn't (but probably does) need to be said, is something very different from co-option.

One thing, at least, is certain: this is going to be an interesting political year. With which reflection, I retire to put my feet up with a mug of cocoa.

Marxism and Christianity : Living in a Material World

I'm in the process of retrieving bits of the old Latte Labour from the recesses of the internet.

This was the fifth in a series on Marxism and Christianity. Written late 2010

It's been too long since I wrote something for this series. Tonight, the first of two posts on materialism.

A fairly standard argument for the incompatibility of Marxism and Christianity goes as follows. Marxism is a materialist doctrine. Materialism involves the denial that there are non-material entities. Christianity claims that there are non-material entities. So Marxism is incompatible with Christianity. The argument, which readily generalises to non-Christian religions, finds a home in the mouth of cadre and cardinals alike. The religious opponents of Marxism see the doctrine's materialism as more than enough reason to denounce it as a Godless threat to the faith. Meanwhile, the Marxist who deploys the argument will often enough see its conclusion as obvious. The premise that materialism, in the sense of denial of non-material entities, is true rarely strikes her as something which needs support from argument. In this, at least, she finds company amongst the growing ranks of Dawkinsite skeptics (sic).

Now, if materialism, in the sense in which it mattered to Marx and Marxists, really was the denial of non-material entities, then the argument would be sound. Christianity quite clearly does profess the existence of non-material entities, A good example here is God. Now, there is a growing cottage industry in the denial of this claim: perhaps Christians don't really want to say that God exists, or perhaps she ought not to be conceived of as an entity. I'm afraid I can't make any sense of these claims whatsoever. 'Exists' means exists, and to be an entity just is to exist. I fail to see the wiggle-room. This may be owing to an inadequacy on my part, but I am not going to take this easy route out. If Marxist materialism is of the sort suggested, then Christians have a problem in Marxist eyes. I'm going to suggest that materialism, in the distinctively Marxist manifestation, really shouldn't be understood as a metaphysical claim of the sort proposed. Instead, it is a view about the nature of human history and the agents which inhabit it. And this, I claim, is not incompatible with Christianity.

Here's the thing. Why on earth would someone whose priorities were the revolutionary transformation of capitalist society think it a sine qua non of struggle to disbelieve in non-material entities? Taking Alistair Campbell's advice to Tony Blair, let's leave God out of it for the time being. Suppose I believe, as plenty of philosophers and mathematicians of all religious and political persuasions do, that mathematics describes an objective reality that cannot be described as physical. Never mind, whether or not this belief is correct, or even warranted. In holding it, have I strayed into reaction? It's difficult to see how. Suppose it think that there arepropositions, or meanings, or properties, and that these things do not admit of reduction in the denying materialist's terms. Should I tear up my Party card?

The point is that these beliefs seem utterly irrelevant to my capacity to contribute to social transformation, or to develop a clear view of social reality. Only the most muddled utopian thinks that we will all agree on deep metaphysics come the revolution.

In fact, it's not even clear to me that the denying materialist's position is well-formed. It is only as definite as our understanding of the term "material". Sure we know how to use the word in day-to-day life. Tables and taxis are material; God and numbers, if such there are, aren't. But is that enough? Good old-fashioned materialists were only comfortable believing, more or less, in things they could bump into. Tables and taxis certainly fit the bill. It is far less clear that quarks and photons, superpositions and wave-functions, do. The world as our best science describes it is a strange and mathematicised affair. Borderline cases for standardly understood materiality abound. Suppose that to be material is to have a spatio-temporal location. What then are we to make of spacetime itself? Does this pass the materialist admission test?

All that is really, by the way, interesting though I think it is. It is clear to me that if Marxism were making the kind of materialist claim often attributed to it, it would be both irrelevant and uninteresting. Is there a better account of Marxist materialism to be had?

Part of what Marx's own discussions of materialism involve is a rejection of the inadequate materialisms of his own day. Marx is opposed to vulgar, mechanistic, versions of materialism. He is especially concerned to counter reductive understandings of human agency. In his view human beings, and their capacity to act transformitively in the world, are an irreducible component of material reality. Moreover, that capacity is intrinsically social. As he writes in the Theses on Feuerbach,

The standpoint of the old materialism is civil society; the standpoint of the new is human society, or social humanity.

Marx is materialist in that he thinks of human beings, and their struggle for freedom, as an essentially animal, this worldly-affair. He has no time for any view which would diminish this, or locate the motive forces of human history on some transcendent plane. Marx is against vulgar materialism in that he thinks it is an important feature of the world that some of the animal this-worldly things are human beings.

Next time I'll say something about the positive content of Marxist materialism as a philosophy of history. For now, I'll just mention one common enough form of Christianity which certainly is incompatible with materialism as Marx understands it.

This goes as follows: human beings are basically spiritual beings, who are unfortunately trapped for the moment in bodies. The purpose of life is to realise our spiritual nature, and not to get distracted by mundane pursuits. Then, at death, we will go to heaven and be rid of our bodies for eternity.

There are a myriad of reasons to object to this. To start with, what on earth does it mean to speak of me in the absence of my body? The view appears to imply that a body is something I have, whereas it is surely more correct to say that a body is what I am (albeit a body of a particular kind, namely a thinking, acting, one - what the medievals would have called an animated body). Thankfully, the mainstream Christian tradition at its best disowns the problematic view - which sounds more like various gnostic heresies than anything one can find in orthodox creeds. It does so to the extent that it thinks it important to insist on the real humanity of Jesus, to pursue liturgies involving the most mundane things imaginable - water and oil, food, and drink, and to claim that human beings' ultimate post-mortem destiny is bodily. My purpose in these posts is not apologetic, however, so I'll freely acknowledge that Christian reality frequently falls short here. Some, but not all, of many churches' unhealthy obsession with things sexual can be explained by this.  And if Marxist criticism can encourage improvement, that is no bad thing.

BDS

Yesterday's London demonstration in solidarity with Gaza was good: big, angry, and determined. Whilst it was taking place other similar events happened throughout the country and throughout the world. If these are going to be more than opportunities to vent they have to be part of an ongoing campaign against Israel*. Boycott, Divestment, and Sanctions (BDS) are integral to that campaign.

Regular readers of this blog and its predecessor may be taken aback at this point. I am no fan of the consumer politics fad. A generation of slightly-left-of-centre type people who in years past might have grown into passable trade unionists or single-issue campaigners  have instead had their political development stunted by the belief that their political power lives in their wallet. Here we have activism for the Thatcherite imaginary, with the decision to consume displacing the ballot box or the picket line. It is an intrinsically individualistic model of social engagement, and one which far from challenging the capitalist order which produces the misery against which consumer activism is directed, inserts its proponents more firmly into the dominant ideology of that order. There is also some evidence that, even it is own terms, the most irritating manifestation of consumer politics, Fair Trade - concern for development packaged in a manner suitable for rural church halls and easily scared Waitrose shoppers - doesn't actually work in its own terms.

Anyway, here's Žižek saying similar things,



Right, that's enough Žižek. Back to me. Why do I support BDS? First, it has been called for by Palestinian groups themselves and is backed by the main solidarity organisations worldwide (there's a comparison to be made here with the boycott of apartheid South Africa). Far from having the usual atomising effect of consumer political actions, of relating to some imagined political movement only through a fetished commodity, when I refuse to buy some Israeli product I remind myself of a real movement of which I'm a part, I perform my solidarity. So there's something to be said for not buying Israeli goods.

That said, the usual objections to consumer activism aren't entirely defeated in this case. I won't buy Israeli goods, but I don't fondly imagine that the Israeli state will be brought to its knees by Western consumers being careful about their celery purchases. It will take far more economic, political, and - let's disabuse ourselves of 'beautiful soul' liberalism here - probably military effort than that. Yet, here's the thing: BDS isn't just, or even primarily, about keeping a close eye on one's shopping.

Individual consumption decisions are one thing. Systematically targeting inward investors in Israeli capitalism is another thing altogether, and looks far more like collective political action of the old school. Protests against companies and industrial campaigns designed to force the turning off of Israel's economic taps can make a real difference, weakening and putting pressure on the Israeli state.

Nor should the role cultural and sporting boycotts in isolating Israel be underestimated. Academia and the arts are key places here. I have no words for the kind of rose-tinted worldview that resists at this point on the basis that cultural and intellectual intercourse bring people together, and therefore boycotts in these areas should be avoided. Leaving aside the implicit suggestion that the basic problem in the Middle East is that people just don't get together enough (one which I feel might not stand up to critical scrutiny), it is a purely academic question how far up one's own arse one needs to be to propose that, when bombers are raining hell on hospitals, houses, and mosques, a bit of fringe theatre is likely to prove a healing remedy.

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*And I'm quite happy to put it in those terms. I think the rationale for the Israeli state, as set apart for one particular ethno-religious group, is intrinsically racist and almost inevitably genocidal in cumulative effect. I support a one-state solution guaranteeing the rights of all religious and ethnic groups. I should argue for this at length at some point. For now, though, if you support a two-state solution but oppose current Israeli policy, substitute accordingly.

Stop it

Seriously, stop it. Stop it now.

I refer to comments along the following lines:

Imagine if Britain during the 70s and 80s had behaved in Northern Ireland as Israel is behaving in Gaza.

These are popping up all over the internet to such an extent that they probably warrant the term 'meme'. So, yeah, imagine if Britain had behaved in Ireland as Israel does in Gaza. What would it have been like?

Oh, I don't know. Perhaps there might have been a prolonged military occupation, punctuated by periodic killings of civilians, including children, all under the auspices of fighting 'terror'.

I call bullshit, furthermore, on the white-man's burden style 'Britain as shining moral beacon' framework implicit in the question. Look at these terrible foreign sorts; they don't sort out their difficulties in the restrained and civilised manner of us Brits. On the contrary, Britain wrote the book on imperialism.

Israel is an horrific racist state. That needs to be said. It can be said in far less problematic ways than the background assumptions of this meme permit.

Beyond the margins

I have not read Laurie Penny's latest book. This blogpost needs to start with that disclaimer. Nor do I have any interest in giving succour to the Penny-bashing industry. I was, however, intrigued by this review of Unspeakable Things.

This passage in particular captures well the attitude of much of the new Left:

...Her constituency, she says, is the underclass – gay and transgender people, goths, sex workers, rioters, anarchists – arguably the people with the most to lose from the neoliberalist (sic) agenda. 

Now, I would want to quibble with this reckoning of late capitalism's worst victims. I severely doubt that anyone ever finished a sixteen hour shift in a Chinese factory only to sigh "well at least I'm not a goth anarchist, that would be really terrible". But what is striking is the gap between this view, that sees the margins as the most politically fertile site, and the view of a Marx, who viewed socialism as "the movement of the immense majority in the interests of the immense majority". Marx was, on this as on much else, correct. Any socialism which does not arise from, and engage with, a social majority will end in either failure or tyranny. The 20th century gave us plenty of experience of both.

To say this is not for one moment to downplay the role of marginalised groups and cultures in the formation of a viable Left. As I see it, though, the role of socialist politics is to forge bonds of solidarity between these groups and a movement of the immense majority (not least, of course, because the groups are not disjoint: some workers are LGBT etc.). The margins are not a great place to be. They are, well, marginal. In fact, one of the worst features of capitalist patriarchy is its continual creation of margins, of new ways of excluding people.

All of which, given capitalism, is a roundabout way of urging that we don't ignore class. The working class, in all its diversity, fragmentation, and recomposition, remains the only collective agent with both the potential strength and the interest to move humanity beyond capitalism. Much though it might be easier to win a collective of student activists over to anti-capitalism, the task that matters is winning over the people on the tube, most of whom are not signed up leftists, and many of whom are not really that marginal. All of this requires patient, hard work, and isn't the least bit exciting or sexy.

Anyway, here's Herbert Marcuse on the old new Left. The first time as tragedy:

Support Gaza

Ironically, as a great believer in organisation, I'm not a great one for joining things. However, I've just joined the Palestine Solidarity Campaign. Please consider doing likewise yourself here.

If you want reasons, here are 176 of them. The PSC also have an excellent briefing on the current situation here.

Book Recommendation : Seymour on Austerity

I'm rather belatedly reading my way through Richard Seymour's latest book, Against Austerity. I may engage with it in depth on this blog at some point; then again, I may not. Either way, you should read it. The book presents us with a thorough diagnosis of the confection of ideology, economic strategy, and social policy that goes under the name 'austerity'. Particular strengths include a recognition that austerity is a class strategy (and therefore that liberal complaints that austerity doesn't work, that is, doesn't restore growth and reduce deficits, miss the point), a critique of nostalgic defences of the welfare state (Spirit of '45 and all that...), and a blunt recognition that austerity commands a level of popular support, or at least acquiescence, that flies in the face of a misplaced pollyannaism common on the Left. This last point is made in the context of an excellent discussion of ideology.

The overall tone of the book is one of pessimism without hopelessness. Again, this is a needed antidote for much of the Left. It deserves reading; and it deserves reading particularly on the Labour Left - which is particularly prone to some of the mistakes catalogued by Seymour: naive critiques of austerity as bad economics and welfare nostalgia. We are not always very good at engaging with stuff from outside our own stable. At the very least, this book should be an exception. It is far more politically sophisticated than the standard issue stuff on austerity post-2008, and is a welcome contribution from one of the best minds on the contemporary British Left.