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BOX-FOLDER-REPORT: 136-10-22
TITLE: Kolakowski's "Theses on Hope and Despair" (1)
BY: Kevin Devlin
DATE: 1971-9-16
COUNTRY: France
ORIGINAL SUBJECT: Party and Media Translation
--- Begin ---
RADIO FREE EUROPE Research
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This material was prepared for the use of the
editors and policy staff of Radio Free Europe.
FRANCE
Party
POLAND:Media
translation
16 September 1971
KOLAKOWSKI'S "THESES ON HOPE AND DESPAIR" [1]
Summary: The French dissident-Communist magazine Politique
Aujourd'hui has published the full text of a penetrating
analysis of the prospects for political change in Eastern
Europe, which the exiled Polish philosopher, Leszek
Kolakowski, wrote for the review Kultura. In his "Theses on
Hope and Despair" Kolakowski examined the arguments for
holding that the present system of "despotic socialism,"
based on the Soviet model, is "unreformable" -- notably
that bureaucratic repression (directed primarily against
the working class) is a built-in feature of a hierarchical
power system which controls all domestic sources of
information, can prevent free discussion and the growth of
political pluralism, and does not dare to take the risks
inherent in "democratization." But, he goes on to argue,
the inescapable contradictions of the system itself and
the gap between dogmas and realities do nevertheless open
up a perspective of gradual change toward a more tolerable
social order -- provided the regimes are subjected to the
steady pressures of a public aware of the possibilities of
resistance to the status-quo.
Following is the full translation of an article by Leszek
Kolakowski, entitled "In Stalin's Countries: Theses on Hope
and Despair," which appeared in the July-August 1971 issue of
the French dissident-Communist magazine Politique Aujourd'hui
(Paris). The Polish original appeared in the Paris Kultura,
No. 5-6, 1971. Footnotes, emphasis and sub-heads are those
of Politique Aujourd'hui.
* * *
[page 2]
Let us, in the first place, sum up the main arguments
usually advanced by those who hold that the Communist social
system, in its present form., is unreformable. The exponents
of this thesis assert that the principal "social function of
this system is the maintenance of uncontrolled power,
monopolized by the ruling apparat: all institutional changes,
which have already come about or which can be conceived, do
not infringe upon this fundamental principle, to which all
the political and economic actions of the rulers are subordinated.
The monopoly of despotic power cannot be partially suppressed
(this is almost a tautology since, by definition, a monopoly
cannot be "partial"). None of the transformations which have
occurred, or are conceivable within the framework of the system,
is fundamental. All can be easily revoked, because they cannot
be institutionalized without this leading to the destruction of
the entire mechanism. The satisfaction of the basic aspirations
of the working class and the intelligentsia is impossible
within the limits defined by the principal function of the system.
We are dealing with an organism entirely deprived of plasticity
and self-regulatory devices. Only brutal and periodic
catastrophes can bring about modifications which, except for
superficial concessions and certain regroupings within the
ruling cliques, leave no trace on the characteristic features
of the whole. Stalinism, in the strict sense -- that is, the
bloody and cruel tyranny of an individual -- was the most perfect
material embodiment., of the principles of the system: later
transformations , and particularly the considerable relaxation of
terrorism as practiced by the government, although important
for the security of individuals, have not in any way changed the
despotic nature of the regime, any more than they have limited
specifically socialist forms of oppression and exploitation.
The fundamental functions of this social system are directed
against society, which finds itself deprived of any institutional
form of self-defense: the only transformation which one can
conceive of is that of a violent revolution. Such a revolution
would have as its outcome -- according to the hopes of some --
a socialist society, in the sense defined by Marxist tradition
(that is, social administration of the processes of production
and distribution, implying a representative system), or --
according to the hopes of others -- transition to the Western
model of capitalism which, in face of the economic and ideological
failure of socialism, is thought to be the only trustworthy way
of development.
Let us examine the principal characteristics of the Soviet
model of socialism. According to some people, these are such
as to nullify the hope of a partial, progressive "humanization,"
resulting from successive reforms. (We are dealing here with
"structural" characteristics to be found in all countries with
a regime based on the Soviet model.)
[page 3]
"Democratization" Inconceivable
What is usually called the "democratization" of the system
of government is inconceivable within this model. In fact,
political despotism and the ruling apparat's monopoly of the
utilization of the means of production, of investments, of the
use and distribution of the national income, are each conditioned
by the other. The political monopoly which the ruling oligarchy
maintains is based on its position as the only user and
administrator of the means of production. This is why all real
movement, however imperfect, in the direction of political
democracy signifies a partial expropriation of the ruling class
which, without being juridically the proprietor of the means
of production, possesses all the privileges and rights of a
collective owner. In this fundamental area, any impairment of
the principle is only so in appearance: one can authorize the
commissions of a Parliament, itself designated by the party
apparat, to debate the details of economic policy. The
decisions, in any case, are taken by the same bodies which are
not subject to any social control. Even if these decisions are
far from the desires expressed in the discussions -- even if this
fact is quite obvious -- this can have no importance: it cannot
lead to the exertion of social pressure on these bodies, because
information is subjected to severe control. Thus, all attempts
at reform outlined by the economists are doomed to failure,
because they tend to weaken appreciably the monopoly of
economic decisions held by the ruling apparat and threaten the
latter with partial expropriation.
Vicious Circle of Information
The natural tendency of the system is to constantly reduce
the role of the experts, particularly with regard to economic,
social and cultural policy. Expert circles are tolerated on the
condition that they do not claim the right of decision. But,
even in this purely consultative function, experience shows
that they are tolerated with reluctance So far as this is
possible, they are liquidated or replaced by bodies whose
members are chosen in accordance with the criterion of political
docility. This is why blundering, the waste of social energy
and material resources, and mediocrity are in a sense incorporated
into the governmental mechanism and cannot be considered as
temporary faults capable of being corrected.
[page 4]
In such a mechanism "purely technical" criteria, independent
of the concern to maintain and strengthen the existing power
[structure], cannot exercise any influence over the functioning
of this [power mechanism].
Freedom of information -- an indispensable condition for
the proper functioning of the economy, the educational system
and culture -- is not conceivable without the collapse of the
whole power system. Inevitably, a free circulation of
information would destroy it within a short time. But, what is
more, to envisage a "closed" system of information, that is, one
available only to the rulers -- and that in proportion to their
rank in the hierarchy of power -- is just as Utopian. In other
words, the rulers -- whatever illusions they may harbor about
this -- even if they actively seek to get true information for
their own use, would inevitably be badly, or falsely, informed;
they would be the victims of their own lies. Certainly, the time
has gone when Stalin could deal with unfavorable statistics by
having the statisticians assassinated. Nevertheless, the
suppression of the crudest type of misinformation does not change
the fact that misinformation of the rulers is itself built
into the mechanism. This is so for at least two reasons. In
the first place, "closed" information is provided for the most
part by those very persons who, on lower levels of the ruling
apparat, are responsible for the state of affairs about which
they are informing their colleagues. In these conditions, to
give unsatisfactory information means to denounce oneself: an
attitude that one can hardly count on. The transmission of
favorable information is rewarded, the transmission of unfavorable
information leads to sanctions.
It goes without saying that this system naturally extends
to the various categories of sources of information. Examples
of sanctions imposed for the transmission of bad news are
innumerable and known to all.
Secondly, in order to collect information on social life
without any constraint, apart from the effort to reveal the
true state of affairs, it would be necessary to build up a
considerable organization, entirely free, liberated from any
political servitude, having as its task to gather information,
but not having the right to transmit it to the public.
Such an organization would be a strange and artificial
phenomenon within the system; it would, moreover, constitute a
political menace, because it would be, in principle, a body freed
of "ideological" restrictions and servitudes. What is more, the
mass of information thus gathered would ineiuctably strengthen
internal tension and conflicts in the upper echelons of the
apparat which is using it, since there can hardly be such a
[page 5]
thing as entirely innocent information, and items of true
information about social life are immediately exploited by
all the competing groups and cliques which aspire to higher
positions, against those who at present occupy those posts.
Thus, although the rule of self-deception and self-mystification
seems at first sight an absurdity, it is in reality one of the
self-defense mechanisms of the system. Certainly, the ruling
groups sometimes pay for the lies which they themselves produce,
but on the whole this is a risk worth running: in the long run,
it is society which pays the greater part of the cost.
The fourth characteristic of socialism, in its present
Soviet version, is the intellectual and moral degradation of
the apparat which takes the most important decisions for the
life of the country. This degradation is itself a mode of
functioning of the political regime, and not the result of the
good-will or ill-will of the rulers. This mechanism implies a
strictly unilateral dependence within the hierarchy, arising
from the principle of the monopoly of power. As in all despotic
systems, the characteristics which favor individual careers
(the traits of character which facilitate accession to the
upper echelons of the hierarchy) are servility, a lack of the
spirit of initiative, obedience to one's superiors, readiness to
inform on others, and indifference to public opinion and public
interests.
On the other hand, other traits become dangerous: the spirit
of initiative, concern for the interests of all, respect for
the criteria of truth, efficacy and public service without
regard to the interests of the apparat. The mechanism of power
thus engenders a natural counter-selection of the leading cadres,
in all areas of the apparat and particularly of the party. The
fourteen years of Gomulka's reign in Poland manifestly confirm
this truth.
"The Invasion of the Bugs"
These years were marked above all by the systematic
elimination of competent men, endowed with the spirit of
initiative, in favor of mediocre, cowardly and servile individuals.
The process begun in March 1968 [2] -- the massive promotion of
ignorant persons, informers or downright scoundrels ("the
invasion of the bugs," as the people of Warsaw called it) --
was merely the acceleration and intensification of phenomena
already in existence for several years. As with all rules,
there are exceptions to this one, but they are extremely rare.
One can sometimes observe processes in the opposite direction
[page 6]
in times of crisis, but they do not change the natural tendency
of the system which, by its nature, considers competence and
the spirit of initiative to be suspect.
The various elements of the ruling machine are subjected to
this process of counter-selection to different degrees; thus,
in numerous areas of economic and industrial administration one
can always find a considerable number of competent and courageous
men who stubbornly beat their heads against the walls of
indifference, fear and incompetence with which the party apparat
has surrounded itself. They are, however, much rarer in the
apparat itself, as well as in its political and propagandistic
ramifications, where the principle of the selection of
mediocrities has had its greatest victories.
Despotic forms of government necessarily produce the need
for permanent, or at least periodic, aggression. That war is
the grave of democracy, we have known for centuries. For the
same reason, it is the ally of tyranny. In default of an external
war, various forms of internal aggression, aimed at maintaining
a constant state of menace and building up the psychosis of a
beleaguered fortress -- even if this is in favor of the most
artificial processes and against the most chimerical enemies --
fulfill similar functions. Repeated aggression against different
groups of the population, chosen in accordance with the most
diverse criteria, is not at all a result of madness, but a
natural function of the power mechanism, which cannot do without
mortal enemies allegedly lying in wait to exploit its slightest
weakness:. This is the only means it has to maintain, as it
desires, its capacity for mobilizing social energies
It creates its own enemies and, in face of the resistance and
hostility which this continued aggression provokes in those
persecuted, it creates in effect an imaginary situation which
serves precisely as a pretext for repression. The repressive
system thus has a capacity for self-perpetuation, and acts of
internal aggression engender the need for further such acts.
Destroying All Social Links
This same characteristic of monopolistic power demands a
continued effort for the atomization of society and the destruction
of all forms of social life not prescribed by the ruling apparat.
Since social conflicts are not settled, but merely stifled by
repression and dissimulated by ideological phraseology, the most
diverse ways of expression are utilized: the most innocent forms
of social organization can in effect, if they are not placed
[page 7]
under strict police surveillance, become transformed into centers
of opposition. Hence the tendency to impose state control on
["etatiser"] all forms of social life; hence the constant pressure
aimed at destroying all spontaneous social links and replacing
them by restrictive pseudo-associations, the purpose of which is
merely negative and destructive, and which represent only the
interests of the ruling class. In fact, if the system needs
enemies, it has a mortal fear of organized opposition. It wants
to have only the enemies which it has itself designated as such,
and which it will fight in conditions of its own choice. The
natural need of despotism is to terrify individuals while
depriving them of the means of organized resistance.
The penal legislation serves this need perfectly: it is,
in fact, formulated in terms sufficiently confused and ambiguous
that the greatest possible number of citizens may feel themselves
guilty, and that the scale of actual penalties is not limited by .
strict juridical formulas, but can be the object of manipulation
and arbitrary decisions on the part of the police and the Party.
The ruling apparat does not dispose of a margin for
maneuvering in the concession of rights to its citizens. Even
supposing that it had the desire to do so, it could not expand
these rights without risking suicide.
Experience teaches us, in fact, that concessions to
democratic claims result in an increase of pressure. One
observes the "snowball" phenomenon, threatening the whole
political order. Social coercion is so great, the feeling of
oppression and exploitation so powerful, that the least failure
in the system of instituionalized violence, the slightest reforms
promising to make it more flexible, immediately set in motion
enormous reserves of latent hostility and discontent, and can
end in an explosion, impossible to control. It is not at all
surprising, then, that after a number of experiences, even the
philanthropy of the rulers, supposing that it does exist,
remains totally powerless to alleviate the economic and political
servitude of the laboring masses.
Such are the principal reasons advanced in favor of the
thesis -- which incidentally is in conformity with the spirit
of Marxist tradition -- that the specifically socialist form
of servitude cannot be partially suppressed or reduced through
progressive reforms, but must be wiped out once and for all.
Now, my opinion is that this thesis is not correct, and that
to defend it amounts to [adopting] an ideology of defeatism
rather than a revolutionary appeal. I base my conviction on
four general principles: first, we are never in a position to
[page 8]
define in advance the limits of the capacity for change
[plasticite] of any social organization; and experience has
not at all demonstrated that the despotic model of socialism
is absolutely rigid. Secondly, the rigidity of a system depends
in part on the degree to which the men who live within that
system are convinced of its rigidity. Thirdly, the thesis which
I am challenging is based on an ideology of "all or nothing,"
characteristic of men formed in the Marxist tradition; it is not
in any way supported by historical experience. Fourthly,
bureaucratic socialist despotism is pervaded by contradictory
tendencies which it is incapable of bringing into any synthesis
and which ineluctably weaken its coherence. These contradictions
tend, moreover, to become exacerbated and not to diminish.
Is Socialist Despotism Reformable?
The mechanisms which we have described, which appear to
justify the idea that socialist despotism is unreformable, do
in fact exist in this system; they have been observed more than
once; the men who endure them can bear first-hand witness to
them. They all reveal the spontaneous tendency of a mechanism
whose fundamental forms of action are directed against the workers.
If bureaucratic power functions without any resistance on
the part of society, all the phenomena which we" have described
will develop within it, in more and more pronounced forms, ending
finally in the realization of Orwell's model. On the other hand,
it does not follow from this analysis that one cannot oppose to
these tendencies a resistance capable of limiting and weakening
the action of these mechanisms, and leading, not to a perfect
society, but to a form of social organization which would be both
viable and more tolerable for its members. The reformist position
would fee absurd if it consisted in hoping for good will on the
part of the exploiting class, the philanthropy of the repressive
apparat, or the automatic action of organizational mechanisms.
It is not absurd if one conceives of it as an active resistance
taking advantage of the natural contradictions of the system.
All the characteristics of bureaucratic socialism prove
unequivocally that [this system] has a constant tendency to develop
forms of police government, to disintegrate and demoralize society.
All these characteristics converge to make the daily lire of the
working population a veritable hell. In this regard, and in a
more general manner, the same was true of the capitalist economy
as Marx analyzed it. All the natural tendencies of this economy
were not in any way the fruit of the imagination of Marx, who on
the contrary based himself on minute observation of society
There did exist serious reasons for thinking that capitalism
inevitably implied an increasing polarization of classes, the
[page 9]
absolute pauperization of the proletariat, a progressive fall
in the rate of profits, anarchy, periodic crises of overproduction,
massive unemployment, the disappearance of the middle classes;
and that all reforms which could be conceived within the framework
of the system were necessarily precarious because the fundamental
laws arising from the ruthless search for surplus value, determining
the whole process of production, could not be abolished within
the system. The true meaning of these reforms lies in their
political significance: to prepare the proletariat for struggle
and to strengthen class solidarity, indispensable for the decisive
battle. Marx obviously was aware of all the counter-tendencies
which weakened the action of the laws of capitalist accumulation --
the most important, but not the only one, being the resistance of
the working class. It was, however, impossible to measure
quantitatively the strength of these tendencies and
counter-tendencies in the future evolution of the system; that is why,
even if these Marxist analyses were well-argued, the conviction
that in the "last analysis," within this system, the laws of
capitalism would prove stronger than the resistance of the
exploited classes was rather the expression of an ideological
attitude. The fact that the predictions regarding the degradation
and pauperization of the proletariat, increasing anarchy of
production and crises, have not finally been verified, is not the
result of the philanthropy of the bourgeoisie and its moral
transformation. It is the result of years of struggles and
confrontations which obliged bourgeois society "to recognize
certain principles of social organization as necessary conditions
for its own existence. Exploitation has not at all been suppressed,
but it has been considerably limited in the advanced industrial
countries, and the wealthy classes have consented to a limitation
of their privileges in order to save what could be saved without
leading to the destruction of established society.
Absolute Concentration of the Right of Decision
It is certain that analogies of this sort are not entirely
satisfactory. One knows that socialist bureaucracy has learned
the lessons of the defeats suffered by the bourgeoisie; it knows
the defeats suffered by the bourgeoisie; it knows the danger of
all freedom of association and information. This is why resistance
to oppression and exploitation -- within the system of Soviet
despotism -- takes place in the worst social conditions. No
class of exploiters in history has ever had such extensive power
at its disposal. But if this concentration [of power] is a
source of strength, it also conceals weaknesses, as the whole
post-Stalinist history of communism testifies.
[page 10]
In reality, the nature of the system demands the absolute
concentration of the power of decision. This is why Stalin's
power (and that of his local replicas) was the most perfect
incarnation of the principles of despotic socialism. But if
its restoration is at present inconceivable, it is because it
is impossible to reconcile two needs of equal value for the
ruling apparat: unity and security. Conflicts within the
apparat cannot be institutionalized without threatening the
whole system with ruin. In fact, institutionalization of this
type would signify the legalization of factional activity within
the party, which would differ very little from a plurality of
parties. The groups, cliques and clans which emerge spontaneously
as a result of the varying criteria of selection and relationships
of interests, are nevertheless an inevitable product of social
life. This is why absolute tyranny is the ideal of the autocrat,
sufficiently limited intellectually and morally to be free of the
embarrassment of any "abstract" principle, but sufficiently
intelligent to be able to prevent any crystallization of groups
within the apparat (thanks to massacres and purges) and thus
maintain his instrument of government in a state of permanent
fluidity and fear. But this requirement is precisely incompatible
with the need for security on the part of the apparat, which --
no one will be surprised to learn --does not wish to live in
conditions such that any of its officials -- including members
of the Secretariat and Politburo of the Party -- can at any
moment, on a signal from the Chief, find themselves in the. cellars
of the police. Thus the transition from autocracy to oligarchy
under the title of "collective leadership" was in the interests
of the ruling clique. Evidently, oligarchy does not at all mean
democratization, although it amounts to a considerable limitation
of terrorist forms of government; moreover, it signifies a
serious undermining of the stability of the power [structure]
and its inevitable decentralization (which again is not
synonymous with decentralization), and hence a strengthening of
the position and an enlarging of the prerogatives of the local
apparats The central apparat is no longer capable of remedying
a latent process of faction-building, and this produces competing
elements which weaken its efficacy. On the other hand, a
resistance movement is more efficacious not when there is a high
degree of oppression and terror, but on the contrary during
periods of relative relaxation brought about by the disunit of
the ruling apparat (it is to Lenin that we owe this observation).
Ideology: An "Embarrassing Excrescence"
The present apparats are certainly noteless sensitive to
ideological shocks than was the Stalinist apparat, which was
skaken to its foundations after the moral obsolescence of its
leader. But they are demoralized and afflicted by the chronic
[page 11]
malady of internal conflicts between rival groups. It is
certainly in the interests of all these groups not to reveal
the existence of these conflicts, but in this area dissimulation
can never be total; it does operate at all within the police
machine. The partial paralysis of the apparat then becomes
incurable, even while it undergoes successive improvements and
relapses, because its stability depends on some independent
factors, the effect of which is difficult to predict. In this
regard, we may observe that the partial "de-Stalinization" of
Stalinism, undertaken in response to the pressure of realities,
set in motion the mechanism of the diminution [degradation]
of power; this mechanism made possible the efficacy of
resistance. In other words, as long as the apparat is stable
and immune to political shocks, it can -- in general -- take no
account of the discontent of the population. But as soon as it
loses this stability, and has less fear of its boss and of
its own police, it becomes instead afraid of society, of local
or foreign bosses, of the working class, of the intelligentsia
and even of little groups of intellectuals.
The second internal contradiction of bureaucratic
socialism resides in the conflict between the necessity to effect
radical changes in ideology and the incapacity to get rid of the
burden of Stalinist-"Leninist" ideology. Unlike democratic
political organisms, which can base their legitimacy on an
appeal to the social consensus, despotism, being deprived of
representative mechanisms, must necessarily have at its disposal
some kind of ideological "system," however mediocre it may be,
in order to maintain the apparent legitimacy of its existence.
No state and no system of power can do without legitimation --
whether this is based on the divine character of hereditary
monarchy or on free elections. In other cases legitimation
takes on an ideological character; it is based on two
presuppositions: first, the ruling party is the incarnation of the
interests of the working class and of the whole nation; secondly,
the State is a part of the great proletarian movement, which has
strengthened its domination in certain parts of the world before
extending it to other parts. In this system of power, ideology
takes on a function completely different from that which it
fulfils in democratic regimes, however lamentable may be the
results of a confrontation between its principles and the
reality. In the present socialist world, ideology is for the
apparat an embarrassing "excrescence," which one cannot, however,
get rid of in any circumstances. The internationalist phraseology
is indispensable to the Soviet overlords, because it is the only
legitimation of their external domination. It is indispensable
to the local rulers, who are obliged to justify both their own
dependence and their own power.
[page 12]
"How Many Divisions Has the Pope?"
So it is that, for example, the Soviet leaders could
entirely neglect the opinion of the non-ruling Communist
parties: the truth is that they do not want to incite them to
a real struggle for power, and splits which may take place
within these parties or deviations from orthodoxy on their
part matter little to [the Soviets] because they have no
immediately tangible political impact. However, this is not
in fact the case: if the Soviet leaders were to renounce,
entirely and overtly, the existence of a Communist movement
in the countries not subjected to the control of the USSR,
they would have to abjure precisely those principles which
justify this control. Thus, they become victims of their
own ideology with all its absurdities. It is paradoxical
that this ideology, in which practically the whole world has
ceased to believe -- those who order it to be preached, those
whose profession it is to propagate it, and those who must
let themselves be imbued with it -- continue to be a question
of life and death for the existence of the political system.
This dead product, which is called Marxism-Leninism, still
hinders the freedom of movement of the rulers. The persuasive
value of this ideology is non-existent in the countries of the
Soviet bloc, and the rulers know this perfectly well. This is
why the propaganda makes less and less reference to it, and
concentrates almost entirely on state interests and national
interests. But this circumstance engenders a new contradiction
within the system. As is known, beside the formal propaganda
there exists in these countries an implicit propaganda which
is sometimes much more important than the former. It is built
up by an appeal to ideas or principles which cannot be formulated
explicitly or directly in speeches or in the press, but which
must be got over to the population. In the Soviet Union it
is great-power chauvinism, the vainglory of ruling more or less
directly over enormous regions of the globe. Imperialist
ideology, as opposed to the official Marxism-Leninism, can
register here a real success. But in the countries of people's
democracy this implicit ideology is that -- propagated through
various allusive procedures -- of fear of Soviet tanks. In this
case, too, the ideology can register a certain success among the
population: in order to convince men that the Russian bosses can
massacre any protectorate whose obedience leaves something to be
desired, there is no need of more subtle arguments. Up to a
certain point the two types of non-explicit ideology -- at the
center and on the periphery -- coincide in their efforts, but
it would be political myopia to hope to base a durable domination
[page 13]
on this coincidence; not only because in both cases the implicit
ideology is the negation of the official ideology, and not its
complement, but also because it cannot achieve its objective --
temporary pacification -- except at the cost of mutual national
xenophobia, continually kept up, which can be beneficial in
times of tranquillity, but very dangerous in times of crisis.
However, if the ruling apparat wishes to preserve contact --
even minimal contact -- with society, it has no other course of
action.
Among the historic... quips of Stalin, one is particularly
celebrated: "How many divisions has the Pope?" The poverty of
this question lays bare that of a political system which has
lost everything except its divisions (which, I agree, isn't
doing badly), which is incapable of believing in anything except
its divisions, and even prides itself on this, as proof of its
realistic spirit. This regime forgets that it was itself born
of the Russian Revolution and of a triumph that was not only due
to the strength of its divisions, but also to the moral
decomposition of the Tsarist empire and its armies.
The ideological paralysis of bureaucratic socialism becomes
ever more extensive and irreversible; successive campaigns and
periodic conferences of party bodies dealing with the "ideological
struggle" can indeed work out new methods of repression and
terror: they are no longer able to offer society anything more
than hollow phrases. All attempts to recover from this
defeattake two directions -- [that of] nationalist phraseology or that
of order and efficiency; the various factions form themselves
around these slogans.
Nationalist phraseology finds its limits in an essential
question: the real sovereignty of the nation.
Despotic Power and Economic Restraint
The second type of phraseology would be efficacious if it
could present a realizable program, based on "technocratic"
premises. But a "technocratic" program signifies the primacy
of the criteria of productivity and technological progress
over political values; as such, it can be implemented only on
condition that the ruling apparat renounces its power -- in
other words, that it consents to a progressive expropriation
of the "have" class [la classe possedante]. Here we touch
upon a new internal contradiction of the power system: the one,
frequently analyzed, exists between progress in productivity and
technical development, on the one hand, and the system of
political power, which constantly acts as a brake on this
progress, on the. other hand.
[page 14]
This contradiction had already been stressed by Marx
with regard to capitalist production, but it had never
manifested itself with such strength as in a system which,
in principle, was set up in order to surmount it. All the
characteristics of socialist despotism enumerated thus far
constitute, for obvious reasons, powerful brakes on the
progress of productivity and technological development. They
reinforce the stagnation of the regime. However, technological
development (if it is not limited to military technology alone)
and even a rise in [public] consumption (despite certain
political advantages which accrue from generalized poverty and
the shortage of basic goods) are for various reasons in the
interests of the ruling class. The more the general level of
development rises, the more difficult it is to maximize the
results in any particular sector of production -- and this
applies to the military sector, considered as a separate branch.
The aspirations of the population depend, to a large extent,
on the comparison of their situation with that of highly
developed countries -- a comparison which cannot be avoided,
since it has now become impossible, for a number of reasons,
to prevent completely the circulation of information. Thus,
when consumption is stagnant, or even rising slightly, feelings
of frustration and discontent can grow, without one ever being
able to foresee when the explosive level will be reached. In a
more general way, it is henceforth inconceivable that international
competition can be avoided, even when it imposes unfavorable
situations. Indeed, this competition is becoming more and
more keen. Thus, when the leaders affirm their wish to ensure
technical progress and an improvement in the material situation
of the population, they are generally sincere. But these
intentions are in contradiction with their desire to reinforce
the monopoly of uncontrolled power in all fields of social life.
If there is no way out of this contradiction, that does
not at all mean, as Isaac Deutscher seemed to hope, that the
socialist system will "democratize" itself under the automatic
pressure of technical progress. The contradiction between
technological development and the system of political government
and economic management can only become a factor of development
if this contradiction finds expression in a social conflict:
the conflict between all the social sectors which have an
interest in maintaining the existing mechanism of exploitation,
on the one hand, and the working class together with the
intelligentsia -- in the first place the technical and
administrative intelligentsia -- on the other.
[page 15]
Independence Within Dependence
These contradictions are reinforced by another, which is
due to the situation of the dependent countries of the Soviet
empire. The ruling apparats of these countries have an interest
in maintaining this dependence as a guarantee of their own
position; on the other hand, they have an interest in seeing
this dependence lessened, in favor of their own freedom
of decision. This situation engenders inescapable tensions
within the political machine, and at the same time opens up
a breech within which social pressure can be effectively exerted.
National sovereignty is not a sufficient condition for the social
emancipation of the working population; it is, however, obviously
a necessary conditon. It goes without saying that the fear of
the "fraternal" cannons is justified, but it is deliberately
whipped up in order to stifle -- in the name of "patriotism" --
the most timid demands; it is a means of convincing the
nation of the absolute pointlessness of all effort lat resistance].
In reality, the objective of Poland, like that of other
nations in the Soviet sphere, is not to provoke an armed
conflict, but to exercise a constant pressure with a view to
lessening a dependence which can be diminished only through this
pressure. In this field, to reason according to the principle
of "all or nothing" is wrong: accepting this principle means
agreeing to this."nothing." Nobody can be so blind as to claim
that there is no difference between the situation of Poland
and that of Lithuania, or that the dependence of Poland has not
changed at all between 1952 and 1957. Dependence and the
absence of real sovereignty are thus a matter of degree, and
these differences in degree are very important for the existence
of a nation.
If the Polish nation resisted the attempts at Russification
and Germanization during the period of annexation, it owes this
mainly to its humanist intelligentsia and its teachers. If it
had not possessed this intelligentsia, it would probably have
met the same fate as the Lusatian [3] nation, which has indeed
preserved its language, but which has no great chance of surviving,
since it scarcely produces it own, original culture and its
own intelligentsia. Poland, as a cultural entity, survived
thanks to those who created, among other things, the Commission
of National Education, [4] and those who continued this work
through the teachers, writers, historians, philologists and
philosophers of the 19th century, who, in spite of the conditions
then prevailing, labored for the enrichment of the national
cultural heritage. The Czech nation, which found itself on
the verge of Germanization, also survived thanks to similar
efforts by its intelligentsia in the' 19th century.
[page 16]
For Reformism
If I take my stand for the "reformist" idea, I do not at
all mean by that that one can identify reformism with the
, employment of "legal" means, as opposed to "illegal" means.
This distinction is really impossible in. a situation in .
which it is not the law which decides on legality but the
arbitrary interpretation of confused laws by the police and
the party authorities. Where the rulers can, if they wish,
arrest and condemn citizens for having possession of an
"illegal" book, for holding a conversation within a small
group on political subjects or for opinions expressed in a
private letter, the notion of political legality no longer
has any meaning. The best way of reacting against prosecutions
for "crimes" of this sort is to commit them on a very large
scale. If I speak of a reformist orientation, it is in the
sense of a faith in the possibility of effective pressures that
are partial and progressive, exerted in a long-term perspective,
that is, the perspective of social and national liberation.
Despotic socialism is not an absolutely rigid system; such
systems do not exist. Signs of flexibility have appeared in
the course of recent years in fields where formerly the official
ideology reigned supreme: Party officials no longer claim to
know more about medicine than the professors of medicine, even
though they continue to know more about literature than the
writers. But, in Poland, certain irreversible changes have
come about, even in this field. The interference of official
ideology is as insupportable as ever, but its area of activity
has been restricted, especially if one thinks of the still
recent period when state doctrine could with equal authority
pronounce judgment on the width of trousers, the color of socks
and the laws of genetics. Some may retort that this is a
matter of the same kind of progress as the transition from
slavery to feudalism. But we are faced here with a choice not
between total decay and absolute perfection, but between consent
to the process of decay and a continued effort to strengthen values
and models which, once they have taken shape, are more difficult
to chip away [deduire]. The cultural pogrom of 1968 provoked
an enormous discouragement; yet it was a confrontation,
certainly inevitable, but which took place in, conditions chosen
and imposed by the apparatus of repression.
We observe how through the world rigid orthodoxies are
crumbling, bringing about the rejection of the rules, taboos,
sacred values and beliefs which, until recently, seemed to be
the absolute condition for their existence. It might seem
that analogous with the changes taking place within the Church
are pointless, since the Churches have at their disposal neither
[page 17]
police nor an army. However, the Churches also have lost
their means of coercion under the pressure of cultural mutations;
as for the police, they systematically delude themselves, as
ever, about their omnipotence, and try to delude others, since
they remain powerful only as long as people believe in their
own power. In fact, under strong social pressures, the police
are finally revealed as impotent, and the fear of those whose
job is to inspire fear becomes greater than the fear of those
they persecute.
A Slow Decay
Bureaucratic socialism has lost its ideological foundation.
In spite of all the monstrosities of Stalinism, the Stalinist
apparat, at least in the countries of popular democracy,
depended much more in its actions on ideological links with
the system than do the present apparats. One would be tempted
to think that a cynical apparat, the members of which measure
the gains of socialism by their own privileges and their
careers, is more effective, checked by no restraints, because it
is not exposed to ideological shocks, and is capable at will
of sudden changes. But all that is not even a half-truth. An
apparat of that type can fail in face of a crisis; it is in no
state to withstand a more serious test, and runs a greater risk
of disintegration because of conflicts between cliques. But
above all it is the very product of the historical obsolescence
of the system which it serves. A system which no one defends
in a disinterested way is doomed, said Victor Serge in a book
on the "Okhrana" [the Tsarist secret police -- K.D.]. No
policeman will believe such an affirmation until he has lost
his job. Despotic socialism is dying that slow death described
by Hegel: it appears unshaken, but it is sinking down into a
heavy, numbing boredom, relieved only by a fear which finds an
outlet in aggression. The disappearance of the ideology means
for this system the loss of its raison d'etre. In this respect
certian modifications in phraseology are significant: Stalin
was always uttering the word "liberty," at a time when tortures
and massacres were commonplace throughout his empire; today,
when the massacres have ceased, the word "liberty" is enough
to put the whole police force on the alert. All these
old-fashioned words -- "liberty," "independence," "law," "justice,"
"truth" -- become battle-slogans against bureaucratic tyranny.
All that is precious and durable in the present culture of the
nations dominated by this system persists in spite of it.
The international Communist movement has ceased to exist. The
idea of communism in its Soviet version is also no more.
[page 18]
It is probable that, if they had the freedom to choose,
the majority of the Polish working class and intelligentsia
would opt for socialism, as would the author of this article.
For socialism -- that is to say for a sovereign national system
which involves control by society over the utilization and
development of the means of production and over the distribution
of the national income, as well as over the political and
administrative organization, working as an organ of society, and
not as the master which rules over society in the guise of
"serving" it. . They would opt for an organism which presupposes
freedom of information and communication, political pluralism
and the plurality of fores of social property: respect for the
ideas of truth, effectiveness and public interest for the
freedom of professional association, for an end to the arbitrary
rule exercised by the political police and for a penal legislation
the object of which is to defend society against anti-social
behavior and not to transform all citizens into delinquents
subject to blackmail.
The emergence of a movement, in this direction depends
to a large extent --though not entirely -- on the belief of the
public in the very possibility of such a movement. Given that
the character of a society depends in part on the image that it
has of itself, potentialities in the sphere of social
transformations cannot lie in the objective facts alone, without
relation to the awareness which, people have of such possibilities.
This is Why those individuals who, in the countries of socialist
despotism, can give rise to hope are also participants in a
movement which can make this hope a reality -- to the extent
to which, in the effort to understand oneself and one's society,
there is a partial coincidence of subject and object.
Truths Which Should Be Restated
The belief that the present form of "socialism is completely
ossified, that it can be destroyed only by a powerful single
blow, and that no partial change can really effect change on the
social level , can easily serve as a justification for opportunism
and downright knavery If this were so, no individual or
collective initiative directed against the monstrosities of
neo-Stalinist bureaucratism, no struggle to, uphold respect for
truth, competence, justice and reason, would have any meaning.
If this were so, any individual act of baseness could be
justified, since it could be interpreted simply as an element
of the universal ignominy which is "temporarily" inevitable --
not the work of individuals but the product of the system. The
principle of the unreformable character of the system can thus
serve as an absolution granted in advance for cowardice and
passivity. The fact that a large part of the polish intelligentsia
[page 19]
have let themselves be convinced of the total rigidity of the
shameful system under which they live is surely largely
responsible for the passivity which they manifested at the time of
the dramatic struggle undertaken by the Polish workers in
December 1970.
The worst service one could possibly render to the
cause of Polish independence and democracy is to propagate
throughout society traditional anti-Russian stereotypes.
The Russian nation, which has experienced the most frightful
sufferings of modern history, continues to be used by its
masters as a tool of their imperial policies. But it is itself
a victim of these policies, much more than any other nation.
In spite of the risks presented by nationalist ferments within
the "sphere of influence," these nationalist feelings constitute
an indispensable instrument for the maintenance of power by
the most traditional methods, particularly in view of present
decline in the real force of Internationalist ideology. "Friendship
among nations," according to official doctrine, boils down to
drinking toasts to friendship and in the exchange of concert
groups placed under police surveillance. True friendship
between nations whose mutual mistrust and hostility have deep
historical roots can only be born and grow through uncontrolled
contacts and exchanges -- but this is precisely what the ruling
strata fear above all. The anti-Russian nationalism of the
Poles contributes, by provoking a natural reaction, to the
strengthening of Great-Russian nationalism; it thus helps to
prolong the servitude of both nations. It is painful to have
to repeat truths which in the middle of the last century were
commonplaces for the revolutionary democrats of the time. But
they must be repeated as long as they are still valid Those
who, instead of contributing to the; knowledge and understanding
of the true national culture of Russia, propagate anti-Russian
stereotypes in Poland, become willy-nilly defenders of the power
which holds both nations in servitude.
In spite of the military power of the Soviet empire, and
in spite of the invasion of Czechoslovakia, the centrifugal
tendencies within the "bloc" cannot be contained, and the
corrosion of nationalism will continue to erode a structure
which has lost the cement of ideology. To try to hasten this
decomposition by arousing national hatreds could lead only to
a massacre. We can ward off this frightful perspective only
by giving new life to the traditional if outmoded idea of the
brotherhood of nations united against the oppressors.
The internal contradictions of despotic, socialism can
always be resolved in two ways. Left to its own inertia, in
silence and fear, this system will always try to settle its
problems by procedures which strengthen repression instead of
relaxing it, tighten the bonds instead of loosening them. The
[page 20]
extension of police methods of government is not the result of
increased resistance but, on the contrary, the result of its
absence. The flexibility of this social structure -- a
flexibility the limits of which cannot be fixed in advance --
will manifest Itself in re-Stalinization, if there is a lack
of forces capable of opposing this. Only under the pressure
of society can this flexibility manifest itself in a form
more consistent with the needs of that society; that is the
lesson which emerges unchallengeably from our experience. In
the same way, those who think they can obtain tranquility at
the price of small concessions are deluding themselves: the
price to be paid will keep rising. Where today some apparently
innocent flattery is enough, tomorrow they will have to pay for
their tranquility by turning informer; today they can gain
minor privileges simply by remaining silent, but tomorrow the
price will be active participation.
The natural law of despotism is moral inflation: the
distributor of goods demands ever higher prices -- if social
pressures do not oblige him to cut them.
This perspective is far from being a happy one, but it
has the merit of being more realistic than those which would
have us wait for a miracle, for help from outside, or for the
automatic self-repair of a social mechanism out of gear and
left to its own inertia. The means of exerting pressure are
available, and almost everyone can make use of them -- that is
what matters. It would be sufficient to draw the consequences
of the simplest precepts: those which forbid surrender to
baseness, servility toward the ruler, seeking alms in exchange
for one's abjection. Our own dignity entitles us to proclaim
aloud the old words: "liberty," "justice" and "Poland."
Translated by Kevin Devlin
------------------------------
(1) This article was published in No. 5-6 of the review
Kultura, Paris, 1971. The author, Leszek Kolakowski, was
born in 1928. Having become a Communist during the occupation,
he joined the youth movement (the Z.W.M.). Professor of
Philosophy at Warsaw University after the war, assigned to
research at the Philosophical Institute of the Polish Academy
of Sciences, he devoted himself to the history of modern
thought; in this connection he published a study of Spinoza
and Christians Without a Church, his only work published in
French (Gallimard, 1970). As a contributor to Po Prostu,
weekly of the Communist youth and students, he participated
actively in the beginnings of the struggle against Stalinism
and in the Polish October; the journal was consequently one
[page 21]
of the first publications accused of "left-wing
revisionism" and then suppressed by Gomulka in October
1957. To mark the tenth anniversary of October 1956,
Kolakowski issued a violent indictment against the
policies of the P.U.W.P. He was then expelled from the
party, and forbidden to teach -- though not to do research.
He is at present teaching in Oxford University, to
which he is temp6rarily attached.
(2) On 8 March 1968 a student demonstration was brutally
repressed in Warsaw. Other demonstrations followed, and
led to a campaign of repression and purges directed
against the intelligentsia, and notably against Jewish
intellectuals.
(3) The Lusatians, a Slav tribe inhabiting territories
straddling Poland, Prussia and Bohemia, were subsequently
absorbed by Bohemia and then by Saxony, becoming thoroughly
Germanized.
(4) The Commission of National Education, created in 1773
(the first partition of Poland) was the first ministry of
public education in Europe.
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