In a message dated 4/20/00 4:59:44 AM Pacific Daylight Time, 
[EMAIL PROTECTED] writes:

<< 3. A Strategy for the World Left
 
 What is wrong with the strategy the world left evolved in the course of
 the nineteenth century? There must be many things, since
 the strategy has not been successful. The centerpiece of the overall
 strategy was the concept of "two steps": first obtain state
 power, then transform the world. This sequence made sense insofar as
 control of the state machinery seemed the only way to
 overcome the accumulated economic and cultural power of the privileged
 strata and the only way to ensure that new kinds of
 institutions could be constructed - and maintained against
 counterattack. Any other route to social transformation seemed
 utopian (in the pejorative sense of being a pipedream), and this view
 seemed to be confirmed by the fact that various other
 routes to transformation, whenever tried, met with aggressive
 counterattack and ultimately suppression.
 
 So the two-step strategy seemed to be the only one that would work. And
 yet it failed. We know in retrospect what happened.
 The two-step strategy failed because, once the first step was achieved -
 and it was indeed achieved in a very large number of
 countries - the new regimes did not seem to be able to achieve the
 second step. This is precisely the source of disillusionment
 with the Old Left. But why did the movements falter at the second step?
 For a long time it was argued that, if a given regime did
 not transform the world as it had promised, it was because the
 leadership had in some sense "betrayed" the cause and had "sold
 out." The idea that leaders sell out, just like the idea that the masses
 are falsely conscious, seems to me analytically sterile and
 politically disabling. To be sure, some leaders do place personal
 ambition above their proclaimed principles, just as some
 ordinary people do seem not to believe in the same principles that many
 (even most) of their fellows do. The question however
 is why do such people prevail.
 
 The basic problem is not ethical or psychological but structural. The
 states within a capitalist world-system have a lot of power,
 but they simply are not all-powerful. Those in power cannot do just
 anything they wish to do and still remain in power. Those in
 power are in fact rather severely constrained by all kinds of
 institutions, and in particular by the interstate system. This is a
 structural reality which one after the other of these movements that
 have come to power have confronted. Like trees in a storm,
 such regimes have either bent or been broken. None has ever stayed
 straight, or could have stayed straight. And in many ways,
 it was dangerously naive to have expected them to do so.
 
 It is not that no one on the left had ever warned about the dangers of
 the two-step strategy. It is that those who argued its
 dangers could never convince the majority that there was any efficacious
 alternative route. The fact that the powerful of the
 world controlled the weapons (via state armies and state police forces)
 seemed to make it impossible that any truly fundamental
 changes could be made before the movements obtained state power. And the
 majority on the left was probably right about this.
 There was indeed no alternative way, as long as they were operating
 within the ambit of the capitalist world-system that was still
 basically stable.
 
 But there is more to it than this. The left analysis involved multiple
 biases which pushed it towards this state-orientation. The first
 bias was that homogeneity was somehow better than heterogeneity, and
 that therefore centralization was somehow better than
 decentralization. This derived from the false assumption that equality
 means identity. To be sure, many thinkers had pointed out
 the fallacy of this equation, including Marx, who distinguished equity
 from equality. But for revolutionaries in a hurry, the
 centralizing, homogenizing path seemed easiest and fastest. It required
 no difficult calculation of how to balance complex sets of
 choices. They were arguing in effect that one cannot add apples and
 oranges. The only problem is that the real world is
 precisely made up of apples and oranges. If you can't do such fuzzy
 arithmetic, you can't make real political choices.
 
 The second bias was virtually the opposite. Whereas the preference for
 unification of effort and result should have pushed
 logically towards the creation of a single world movement and the
 advocacy of a world state, the de facto reality of a multi-state
 system, in which some states were visibly more powerful and privileged
 than other states, pushed the movements towards
 seeing the state as a mechanism of defense of collective interests
 within the world-system, an instrument more relevant for the
 large majority within each state than for the privileged few. Once
 again, many thinkers had pointed to the fallacy of believing that
 any state within the modern world-system would or could serve collective
 interests rather than those of the privileged few, but
 weak majorities in weak states could see no other weapon at hand in
 their struggles against marginalization and oppression than
 a state structure they thought (or rather they hoped) they might be able
 to control themselves.
 
 The third bias was the most curious of all. The French Revolution had
 proclaimed as its slogan the trinity: "Liberty, Equality,
 Fraternity." What has in practice happened ever since is that most
 people have tacitly dropped the "fraternity" part of the slogan,
 on the grounds that it was mere sentimentality. And the liberal center
 has insisted that "liberty" had to take priority over
 "equality." In fact, what the liberals really meant is that "liberty"
 (defined in purely political terms) was the only thing that mattered
 and that "equality" represented a danger for "liberty" and had to be
 downplayed or dropped altogether.
 
 There was flimflam in this analysis, and the world left fell for it. The
 world left, and in particular its Leninist variant, responded to
 this centrist liberal discourse by inverting it, and insisting that
 (economic) equality had to take precedence over (political) liberty.
 This was entirely the wrong answer. The correct answer is that there is
 no way whatsoever to separate liberty from equality. No
 one can be "free" to choose, if his/her choices are constrained by an
 unequal position. And no one can be "equal" if he/she does
 not have the degree of freedom that others have, that is, does not enjoy
 the same political rights and the same degree of
 participation in real decisions.
 
 Still this is all water under the bridge. The left made its case, and it
 has had to live with it. Today, as a result and as we are very
 well aware, the world left is in great difficulty. I am arguing however
 that this should not be seen in isolation. The errors of the
 left, the failed strategy, were an almost inevitable outcome of the
 operations of the capitalist system against which the left was
 struggling. And the widespread recognition of this historic failure of
 the left is part and parcel of the disarray caused by the
 general crisis of the capitalist world-system.
 
 The failure of the left yesterday and its recognition today is precisely
 what will make it possible for the world left tomorrow to
 achieve its objectives. Possible, but not at all certain! A new kind of
 historical system will be constructed in the next half
 century. The worldwide battle has already begun over what it will look
 like. So what is it that we can do?
 
 I think the first thing we can do is analyze. I say this not because I
 am addressing a group of social scientists, that is, persons
 who presumably engage in social analysis as their life work, but because
 one of the problems of the world, and in particular of
 the world left, is that our previous analyses have not been all that
 good and seem to have been part of the cause of why we are
 in the dilemmas we are in today. Here I can only repeat a number of
 themes I have been plugging for a while now. The first is
 the importance of the choice of the unit of analysis. I think the
 relevant unit of analysis is the modern world-system, which is a
 capitalist world-economy. The second is to analyze this system in the
 longue durée, which is however distinctly not eternal.
 What this does mean is that for any given historical system, such as for
 example the capitalist world-economy, we need to
 distinguish cyclical rhythms and secular trends, and use that to
 distinguish the periods of genesis, of quasi-normal operation, and
 of structural crisis of the system as a whole.
 
 The third is to understand systemic processes in terms of their
 complexity, that is, their long-run tendency to move far from
 equilibrium, arriving at moments of bifurcation with indeterminate
 outcome. The fourth is to place particular emphasis on the
 institutional role within the capitalist world-economy of (a) the
 antisystemic movements and (b) the structures of knowledge.
 And the fifth is to place all this analysis within the context of
 unthinking (which is different from rethinking) the categories
 bequeathed to us largely in the nineteenth century to meet the needs and
 reflect the geoculture of the present world-system.
 
 Analysis is of course always a necessary component of praxis. But it is
 particularly urgent and central when we are confronting a
 structural crisis because it is just then that accepted categories of
 thought provide the greatest hindrance to useful action.
 However analysis by itself is never action. Action requires
 organization. The world left has believed for the last 200 years that
 this meant highly coordinated action, preferably within a single
 hierarchical structure, believing it to be the most, perhaps the
 only, efficacious form of action.
 
 I think that this assumption has been proven wrong. The social
 components that potentially make up the world left are too
 diverse, face too many different immediate problems, originate in too
 many diverse cultural loci for a system of democratic
 centralism, even one that were genuinely democratic, to work. This has
 been recognized in recent years by the emergence of
 two slogans that point in another direction. One is the U.S. slogan of
 the "rainbow coalition," a phrase that has been copied in
 other parts of the world. It was generated by the sense that, for very
 many people, their politics are rooted in, or deeply
 affected by, their social position and their identities. The other
 phrase is the one launched in the last few years in France, that of
 the "plural left." This phrase too is being copied. It refers less to
 the reality of different identities than to that of the multiplicity of
 political traditions and priorities.
 
 However we appreciate the actual attempts heretofore to create a new
 style of left coalition, the core of the idea seems to me to
 be absolutely correct, and indeed essential if we are to make any
 significant political progress. We are strengthened collectively,
 not weakened, insofar as people organize in forms and structures
 meaningful to them, provided only the groups they form are
 ready to talk to each other, and to operate meaningful coalitions. This
 is far more than a matter of parliamentary politics. It can
 and should operate at all levels from the global to the local. But most
 of all, it cannot be merely a matter of political logrolling but
 one rather of constant debate and collegial analysis by these movements
 in concert one with the other. It is a question of creating
 and reinforcing a particular culture of collegial as opposed to
 hierarchical political action. It will not be easy.
 
 What is it however that such coalitions should push? I think there are
 three major lines of theory and praxis to emphasize. The
 first is what I call "forcing liberals to be liberals." The Achilles
 heel of centrist liberals is that they don't want to implement their
 own rhetoric. One centerpiece of their rhetoric is individual choice.
 Yet at many elementary levels, liberals oppose individual
 choice. One of the most obvious and the most important is the right to
 choose where to live. Immigration controls are
 anti-liberal. Making choice - say choice of doctor or school - dependent
 on wealth is anti-liberal. Patents are anti-liberal. One
 could go on. The fact is that the capitalist world-economy survives on
 the basis of the non-fulfillment of liberal rhetoric. The
 world left should be systematically, regularly, and continuously calling
 the bluff.
 
 But of course, calling the rhetorical bluff is only the beginning of
 reconstruction. We need to have a positive program of our
 own. There has been a veritable sea-change in the programs of left
 parties and movements around the world between 1960 and
 1999. In 1960, their programs emphasized economic structures. They
 advocated one form or another, one degree or another,
 of the socialization, usually the nationalization, of the means of
 production. They said little, if anything, about inequalities that
 were not defined as class-based. Today, almost all of these same parties
 and movements, or their successors, put forward
 proposals to deal with inequalities of gender, race, and ethnicity. Many
 of the programs are terribly inadequate, but at least they
 feel it necessary to say something. On the other hand, there is
 virtually no party or movement today that considers itself on the
 left which advocates further socialization or nationalization of the
 means of production, and a number which are actually
 proposing moving in the other direction. It is a breathtaking turnabout.
 Some hail it, some denounce it. Most just accept it.
 
 There is one enormous plus in this cataclysmic shift of emphasis. The
 world left had never addressed with sufficient seriousness
 the biggest problem of all for almost everyone, which is the day-by-day
 reality of worldwide multiple inequalities. Equality
 means very little if it is equality only amongst the wealthy. The
 capitalist world-system has resulted in the greatest geographic
 polarization of wealth and privilege the planet has ever known. And the
 top priority of the world left must be to decrease the
 gap radically and as rapidly as possible. But this is not the only gap
 that needs to be addressed. There are all the ones we have
 talked about for a long, long time: class, race, ethnicity, gender,
 generation. In short, we have to take the issue of equality as one
 about which something can indeed be done.
 
 But what? Decreeing equality as an objective is not achieving it. For,
 even with good will all around - and this of course cannot
 be assumed; indeed quite the contrary - it is not easy to find equitable
 solutions. Here is where I think we need to reintroduce,
 indeed revive, Weber's concept of substantive rationality. We should
 note here incidentally a problem of translation. The term
 Weber used in German was "Rationalität materiel" - "material" as opposed
 to "formal." The accepted English translation,
 "substantive," only conveys "materiel" if we associate it with
 "substance" and not with "substantial" in our minds. What Weber
 was talking about was that which is rational in terms of collective
 widely-applicable value systems as opposed to that which is
 rational in terms of particular, narrowly described sets of objectives
 an individual or an organization might set itself. Weber
 himself was ambivalent about the attitude to take vis-a-vis "substantive
 rationality." He sometimes described it in ways that made
 it seem his priority and sometimes in ways that underlined his fears
 that ideological organizations (read, the German
 Social-Democratic Party) might impose their views on everyone else.4
 Most of Weber's post-1945 acolytes have only noticed
 the latter sentiments and ignored the former. But we can make our own
 use of this important concept and the insights it gives us.
 
 What it seems to me that Weber was pointing to is that, in a world of
 multiple actors and multiple sets of values, there can be
 resolutions of the debates that are more than the result of simple
 arithmetic (counting the votes) and more than a free-for-all in
 which everyone pursues his own fancy. There can exist substantively
 rational ways of making social decisions. To know what
 they are requires a long period of clear, active, and open debate and a
 collective effort to balance priorities over the short run
 and the long run.
 
 Take a very obvious issue, the problem of generational priorities. There
 is at any given time a given social surplus, which can be
 divided among four generational groups: children, working-age adults,
 the elderly, and the as yet unborn. What is the right
 proportion to allocate in terms of collective expenditures? There surely
 is no easy or self-evident answer. But it is a question that
 needs some measured decisions, arrived at democratically (that is,
 involving the real participation of everyone, at least everyone
 living, in some meaningful way). At the present time, in the present
 system, we have no real process by which this can be done,
 not even within a single state, not to be speak of doing it globally.
 Can we construct such a process? We must. If we cannot, we
 renounce forever the traditional objective of the world left, a
 relatively democratic, relatively egalitarian world. I am not ready to
 renounce this objective. Thus, I am in principle optimistic that
 humanity can construct such procedures. But remember, not only
 is it difficult, but there are many, many powerful persons who do not
 wish to see such procedures established.
 
 What we can say about these issues of multiple inequalities and the ways
 in which they might be overcome is that at least, and at
 last, they are the subject of serious debate today. They are on the
 agenda of the world left. And if we have not come up with
 very good answers up to now, we do seem to be working at it, and with
 far less internal backbiting than one might have feared
 and seemed to be happening 20-30 years ago.
 
 But the great plus on the issue of the multiple inequalities has gone
 along with a great minus on the side of reconstructing our
 basic economic institutions. If capitalism collapses, do we still have
 an alternative that fulfils the traditional socialist objective - a
 socially-rational system that maximizes collective utility and fair
 distribution? If the world left is putting forth today such
 proposals, I haven't heard of them. Between those at one end of the left
 spectrum who are proclaiming "new" ideas that are
 simply watered-down versions of centrist administration of the
 capitalist system and those at the other end who are nostalgic for
 the nostrums of yesterday, there seems a real poverty of serious ideas.
 
 The world left needs to face up to the most systematic and effective
 critique of historical socialist rhetoric, the suggestion that
 non-private ownership of the means of production leads to waste,
 disinterest in technological efficiency, and corruption. This
 critique has not been untrue of what we today call "real-existing
 socialism." This has been recognized by such of these regimes
 as still survive (or at least most of them), but their response has been
 to create a large place for private ownership within their
 regimes and label this "market socialism." While this may seem to solve
 some short-run economic difficulties, it fails utterly to
 address the underlying issues which the world socialist movement sought
 to address in the first place - gross inequality and gross
 social waste.
 
 I suggest there may be another route, one that has in fact been tried
 partially and which is rather promising. I think one might be
 able to get most of the advantages of private ownership yet eliminate
 most of the negatives by ensconcing productive activities
 within medium-size, decentralized, competitive non-profit structures.
 The key is that they would be non-profit, that is, that no
 one would receive "dividends" or "profit distributions" and that any
 surplus either went back to the organization or was taxed by
 the collectivity for reinvestment elsewhere.
 
 How might such structures work? Well, actually we know how, in the sense
 that there are parallels. Most major universities and
 hospitals in the United States have worked on such principles for two
 centuries now. Whatever we can say of their functioning,
 it is not the case that they have been "inefficient" or "technologically
 backward" by comparison with the few for-profit institutions
 that have existed. Quite the contrary. I'm aware that there is currently
 a move to try to transform such structures into for-profit
 institutions, but insofar as this has occurred in hospital structures
 the results have not been very good and the move to
 profit-oriented institutions has not yet been seriously tried in
 universities. Of course, in most countries, hospital and university
 structures are state-financed but traditionally they have usually been
 allowed enough autonomy for us to consider them examples
 of decentralization. These state-financed non-profit structures have not
 in any case been notably less efficient than the private
 non-profit ones.  <Charlie, note this paragraph, what do you think?>
 
 So why wouldn't this work for steel firms, for computer technology
 giants, for manufacturers of aircraft and biotechnology? No
 doubt there would be a lot of details to argue about, especially the
 degree to which such non-profit corporations should be
 taxed, but per se it seems to me viable, and promising, and an
 alternative road that would not be out of sync with the
 commitment to a worldwide higher standard of living for everyone. At the
 very least, it would seem to me to something we
 should be seriously discussing and an idea we should be elaborating.
 
 What I think we should keep in the forefront of our minds is that the
 basic issue is not ownership or even control of economic
 resources. The basic issue is the decommodification of the world's
 economic processes. Decommodification, it should be
 underlined, does not mean demonetization, but the elimination of the
 category of profit. Capitalism has been a program for the
 commodification of everything. The capitalists have not yet fulfilled it
 entirely, but they have gone a long way in that direction,
 with all the negative consequences we know. Socialism ought to be a
 program for the decommodification of everything. Five
 hundred years from now, if we start down that path, we may not have
 fulfilled it entirely, but we can have gone a long way in
 that direction.
 
 In any case, we need to be debating the possible structures of the
 historical social system we want to construct as the present
 system collapses. And we ought to be trying to construct the alternative
 structures now, and in the next half-century, during the
 period of transition. We need to pursue this issue forcefully, if not
 dogmatically. We need to try out alternatives, as mental
 experiments and as real experiments. What we cannot do is ignore this
 issue. For if we do, the world right will come up itself
 with new non-capitalist alternatives that will involve us in a new,
 hierarchical, inegalitarian world order. And then it will be too
 late, for a long while thereafter, to change things.
 
 Allow me to say one last word that is obvious, but needs to be said.
 Social scientists are specialists. Of course, we are not the
 only brand of specialists. In a sense, the world is constituted by an
 endless series of specialists, some of whom have had longer
 periods of training than others. How do specialists relate to
 non-specialists? How should they? The world left has tended to
 define this as the issue of how middle-class left-oriented intellectuals
 should relate to the working classes. And we have tended
 to favor the theory that they must be "organic intellectuals," by which
 we have meant that they must be involved in social
 movements, working with them, for them, and ultimately under them. The
 collapse of the movements has left a bad taste in the
 minds of erstwhile and putative organic intellectuals about the whole
 idea.
 
 There is however another way to look at the issue. Consider how a client
 relates to a lawyer or a physician. As we know, it is
 basically a matter of class. The working-class client may feel ignorant
 and helpless vis-a-vis the professional, and accept the
 judgment of the professional, sometimes gratefully, sometimes with great
 resentment, but usually accepting it nonetheless. A
 wealthy or otherwise powerful person may treat the lawyer or the
 physician as a subordinate, whose primary function it is to
 give technical advice to a superior.
 
 Is there some way in which the specialist can relate to the
 non-specialist as an equal? Obviously, the specialist has some
 specialized knowledge. That is the whole point of multiple, differential
 training programs. And obviously again, the specialist
 knows many things that are relevant to solving particular kinds of
 problems of which the non-specialist is unaware. That is why
 the non-specialist consults the specialist, to get the benefit of the
 expertise the specialist has. But it is also obvious that the
 non-specialist knows many other things - about his needs and
 preferences, about other problems he/she is facing - of which the
 specialist is unaware, or if aware, on which the specialist has no
 specialized knowledge.
 
 Somewhere along the line, a total judgment has to be made, as to whether
 or not a particular line of action the specialist
 recommends is substantively rational. I am of course assuming that it is
 formally rational, that is, that it will achieve the
 narrowly-defined objective the specialist has taken into consideration.
 But who will make this decision? And how? If one
 transposes this issue from the realm of an individual encountering a
 specialist to resolve a personal problem to that of a
 collectivity encountering a group of specialists to resolve a collective
 problem, we see immediately that once again there is no
 simple answer. But I think once again this is a conundrum not impossible
 to overcome, merely difficult. Neither of two extremes
 is acceptable: that the specialists impose their solution on the
 collectivity; that the political decision-making bodies ignore the
 knowledge and the recommendations of the specialists. We need somehow
 systematically to intrude public debate on the issues,
 and the balancing of multiple needs and interests. We are thus back to
 the issue of substantive rationality.
 
 This whole program for the left would be hard enough were we to face it
 amongst only ourselves and in all tranquillity. But we
 face these issues while under constant attack by those who wish to
 prevent our basic objectives from being achieved, and who
 have powerful resources at their command. Furthermore, we shall not be
 doing it in times of tranquillity but in times of chaos. It
 is the transitional chaos that offers us our opportunity, but at the
 same time this chaotic ambiance confuses us and presses us to
 turn away from the long-run reconstruction of a historical social system
 to the short-turn solution of urgent problems.
 
 Finally, those of us in the United States find ourselves before one
 further obstacle, which C. Wright Mills saw clearly in 1959,
 and which has not fundamentally changed since then:
 
 "[I]ntellectuals of [our] sort, living in America and in Britain,
 face some disheartening problems. As socialists of one sort or
 another, we are a very small minority in an intellectual
 community that is itself a minority. The most immediate
 problem we face is the nationalist smugness and political
 complacency among the dominant intellectual circles of our
 own countries. We confront a truly deep apathy about
 politics in general and about the larger problems of the world
 today."5
 
 In short, and I say this for the last time, it will not be easy. But the
 game is surely worth the candle.
 
 
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