Papers: Red Star: A Non-Sectarian Sect

Click page for next article...Naturally enough, the loss of a group of its comrades did not endear us to the CPGB, and having published the Red Star 1 we waited somewhat nervously to see what the Weekly Worker, which was after all widely read, would say about it. In particular, I wondered what hostage to fortune we had let slip through the editing net: what piece of inadvertant nonsense they might hang us with.

As it turned out, in a rather long and sprawling article, they quoted large sections of both the paper and the Tiny Red Book without actually disagreeing with any of it. They criticised us as sectarians, but purely on the basis that we had left the CPGB at all: not of our stated politics. (Their one coup was the phrase 'non-sectarian sect', which I kicked myself for not thinking of first, as I would certainly have used it to title my piece in the first issue.)

It was with relief bordering on anti-climax that I wrote our reply, and further developed our argument for a workers' party.

Click here to download Red Star 2 in PDF format.

Red Star 2: October 2004

Recently, the Weekly Worker, paper of the Communist Party of Great Britain, mocked us as a "non-sectarian sect". We're warming to the description. Let's face it, the label 'sect' is applied by every left group to every left group except itself: it's like watching the residents of the Big Brother house accusing each other of attention-seeking. "I was so appalled at the self-publicising," commented one contestant, "I was on the point of getting dressed and just leaving".

The problem is not 'the sects', but sectarianism: so why not a sect for those who wish to fight it? Let's fight gratuitous on-screen nudity with... at this point the analogy breaks down. Let's fight fire with fire: we accept the title "non-sectarian sect" with pride - thank you, comrades.

weekly worker 2 september: a valued complimentSure, we might have fought as individuals, but without organisation, money, website and paper, how could we be heard? And individuals are not immune to the disease: I recently heard of one disgruntled socialist who was so disgusted with what he saw as the isolationism of (in this case) the Socialist Party, he defiantly cried that he would "not join any alliance they were a part of".

So next time you are in the company of assembled socialist groups, call "will those comrades not in sects please stand up", and be amazed as almost everyone does. You might conclude "no sectarian problem here, then", in which case I'd advise you to stop reading until you've sobered up. You might, more sensibly, seek out the (sadly small) group still sitting: we'll tell you that the problem affects us all, and we won't begin to solve it until we recognise that.

And the problem is real. Over the last couple of years, conditions have been so favourable to the British left that socialists have had to show an extraordinary level of skill and tenacity to avoid being successful.

At times, we have been faced with seemingly insuperable opportunities: the apparently unavoidable prospect of winning new comrades, gaining electoral success, and even beginning to build the party that we all acknowledge we need. "Surely," many thought, "they cannot miss?"

But they underestimated us.

For instance, it was only last year that one and a half million marched through London against the invasion of Iraq: that is, one in every 40 of the British population. Many had never protested before. Formerly genuine believers in parliamentary democracy, they were bewildered to find the government acting against their wishes. Here was a truly mass movement, largely organised by our own comrades, and ready to hear socialist arguments.

As you might expect, we sprang into action.

The first thing we did was to delay the conference of the Socialist Alliance - which brought together most of the socialist groups into a joint campaigning organisation. This was no time for cooperation - there was a war on!

There was still a danger, however, that an official SA speaker might address the crowds from the platform. Fortunately the Stop the War Coalition organising the event was dominated by members of the Socialist Workers Party: the largest group in the SA. After careful negotiation, they were able to ensure this didn't happen. Some of them, as individual officers of the STWC, were forced to speak themselves, but they carefully avoided any mention of the SA, and any specifically socialist explanation of the war, or its remedy. Political speeches were left to the Greens, the Welsh nationalists, Charles Kennedy... Charles Kennedy?

When the SA conference finally took place, we were able to reflect with satisfaction on our carefully preserved obscurity, and a derisory national vote for the candidates we stood in the local elections following the demonstrations. We managed to deflect most of the protest votes towards the Liberal Democrats: a particularly impressive job, considering they had switched to supporting the war.

Or consider the unions which broke from Labour. For decades, the Labour Party acted as a constraint on the wider labour movement, safely absorbing working class militancy into deals with Labour governments (or prospective Labour governments) who, in turn, made deals with the corporations and the state.

New Labour was the logical conclusion of this process. New Labour was openly anti-working class. It didn't shy away from abandoning even the pretence of socialism (as it symbolically dumped the famous Clause IV of its constitution) or calling unions "wreckers" for defending their members' rights.

Tommy Sheridan of the SSP:
carries the contagion of success
The more militant unions had had enough, and were finally prepared to break with New Labour and support socialist politicians. The Rail Maritime and Transport union backed the Scottish Socialist Party, and stood firm while Labour first threatened, then implemented, its disaffiliation. The Fire Brigades Union also disaffiliated. Both unions were driven to these moves by their own members pulling them to the left.

The SSP clearly hadn't read the script. They won election to the Scottish parliament, and now had real labour movement backing. The contagion of socialist gains seemed sure to spread to the rest of the country. How could it be avoided?

The trick was to learn from what the Scottish socialists had got right, and do the opposite. In Scotland, their alliance of left groups had moved forward to form a socialist party. The SA in England and Wales was therefore closed down altogether: no point taking any chances. In its place was built the Respect Unity Coalition, which isn't socialist, and isn't a party. Revolutionaries from the Socialist Workers Party fought hard to ensure that important and popular radical demands were excluded from the programme of the coalition: like republicanism, and the promise that workers' representatives would take only a worker's wage.

It worked, and Respect avoided picking up union support.

Not all the left, though, supported Respect. Many of us remain outside it, jointly calling for the united, socialist, workers' party we all acknowledge we need. Could it be that we are ready to finally give up the fight against success and accept the responsibility being thrust upon us?

Or is it possible that we were never seeking failure in the first place?

What is alarming is not simply the scale of our failure, but how easy it would be to believe that we had sought it. As a mass movement formed against war, and union members rejected Labour in pursuit of political leadership which actually represented their interests, the left failed to unite, or even to grow in size. The brewery had been booked, the piss-up was about to begin, and we've spent the year since arguing about who forgot the bottle opener.

When a driver in a rally across a desert collides with the only tree within 50 miles of the route, one is staggered by the sheer perversity of the achievement. It is difficult not to feel something akin to admiration for the scale of the disaster achieved against such odds.

Indeed, each year "Darwin awards" are given, posthumously, to those who accidentally kill themselves in ways so monumentally foolish that they verge on artistry. The awards are named after the great evolutionist because they "commemorate those who improve our gene pool by removing themselves from it": like the man who broke into a dry ski slope centre, stole the protective padding around a pylon to use as a makeshift sledge, and died when he rode the sledge into the same, now unprotected, pylon. Does the left deserve the first political Darwin award?

The need to establish a party to represent the interests of working class people is now so obvious, and so pressing, that almost every left group outside Respect (and even a couple within it) now have something to say about it: though it is like listening to castaways on a raft after days at sea telling each other "OK, so in principle we're agreed: it might be an idea to set off one of these flare thingies. The question remains: which colour?"

The analogy is not entirely fair - there are real questions to settle about the new party, and this article is written as a contribution to that debate - but it is closer than you might imagine. The truth is that the different groups on the raft are still arguing about the agenda for the flare-colour debate, and each is proposing a different attendance list for the meeting, and trying to exclude their own particularly unloved colours from the agenda. We are already at the stage where we are arguing about the agendas of conferences organised to determine the nature of future conferences: it is only a matter of time before someone suggests that we have a conference to thrash out what should happen at the pre-conference conferences. Meanwhile, our raft drifts ever further from the shipping lanes: and it is hard to blame those who finally decide just to swim for it.

This intensity of political surrealism is not, and cannot, be driven by genuine differences of view: it is an outward manifestation of the sectional self-interest and bloody-mindedness which goes under the name sectarianism.

Hundreds of thousands protest in Hyde Park:
but how many were won to socialism?
In the first issue of the Red Star, I argued that the problem with the left was not the number of groups, as it was inevitable that politically conscious workers should hold different views on the best way to achieve our common socialist aims, and form groups to represent them - outside or inside a united party. Instead, I laid the blame at the door of sectarianism - the demand of each group that unity be based on its programme and be formed by its initiative - and called on socialists to recognise and fight this disease of the left, so that we might be free to form the party we all agree is needed.

Many agreed, but complained that I hadn't explained how I thought such a party might be built: what position did I take on the controversies surrounding it? In this article, I plan to examine these: but I maintain they are secondary. The left groups are divided by less than they like to imagine. Remove the sectarian agendas, and the remaining issues can, and will, be quickly settled.

However, to say they are secondary is not to say they are unimportant. There seem to be three main questions dividing the left about the universally acclaimed workers' party.

1. What kind of party should it be? Do we want a single, unified organisation, or a joint campaign or alliance of the various socialist groups (in the jargon, a united front)?

2. If we want a single, unified party, should it allow organised minorities to form within it, with their own names, memberships, and papers: again in the jargon, should we allow factions?

3. Should the party be formed around a fight for left-wing reform, like renationalising rail, increasing health and education budgets, abolishing anti-union laws and so forth, or should it aim to change the entire basis of our society by abolishing class rule: should it be reformist or revolutionary?

1 party or united front?

The first question, of course, is: what's the difference?

A party brings together socialists into organised cooperation. It must allow free discussion, but its policy can be democratically determined by the majority and, though minorities may freely argue for change, they must nevertheless implement the democratically taken decisions. It is the most developed form of solidarity: uniting people who are powerless alone into a force which can lead the fight to change society.

On the other hand, a united front brings together existing groups to fight for, well, as much as they can all agree on. If the groups agree on A, they can organise a united front to fight for A. However, even if the majority also agree on B, the minority is under no obligation to support B being added to the campaign; and if the majority attempt to include B in the campaign, the minority may simply leave.

Worse, the primary loyalty of each individual socialist in the united front remains to the group of which they are a member, rather than the front as a whole. The leadership of the front therefore has little real control over its activity: the real decisions are taken within the groups.

Imagine a train in which every carriage had its own engine and braking system and was controlled by its own driver. Then imagine that, while the drivers would have discussions with each other by intercom, they were only committed to supporting those decisions they personally agreed with. Further, imagine every driver also had to consult the passengers in their own carriage before braking or accelerating. Finally, imagine that each carriage could be decoupled the moment its occupants decided that, quite frankly, they didn't much like the way the train was being run.

Welcome aboard the united front. It will be pulling into London Waterloo platforms four, seven, and nine, except for the rear three carriages which have, somewhat unexpectedly, turned up at Kings Cross.

At least, this is how they can behave. To be effective, they must campaign around defined or even individual policies, and usually for limited periods. After a time, they either break up, or develop into more unified structures.

An interesting example is the Socialist Alliance: the united front initially set up to jointly support socialist candidates at elections. The string of couplings and decouplings was bizarre, but the Socialist Alliance (given its structure) actually made extraordinary progress in putting together a joint electoral manifesto: People before Profit. The contradictions described above were all, however, sadly obvious: as was the pressure, also described above, to either move forward to form a party (as the Scottish Socialist Party did) or to fall apart. It fell apart.

The task of the workers' party is to provide leadership across all political issues, and organise the struggle for socialism until it is won. Ultimately, therefore, the workers' party must be just that: a party.

A more difficult question is raised by those who propose a united front as a stepping stone towards the formation of a party. Were such an approach attempted, it would clearly be sectarian to remain outside it on the grounds that nothing short of a party would do. However, unless it progressed quickly, it might prove to be counterproductive. As explained above, while united fronts may be easier to form (requiring fewer commitments from their members), they are harder to keep together.

2 factions?

One attempt to unite the left was initiated earlier this year by a group of sacked Liverpool dockers and the 47 socialist councillors undemocratically expelled from Liverpool city council in 1987. They convened a series of meetings to discuss the name and constitution of a new "mass party of the working class".

Depressingly, the project itself now seems to be on the verge of a split even before it gives birth to any new organisation. The dockers wish to form a party; the councillors a united front. My argument would seem to support the dockers.

However, while the dockers wish to encourage members of the existing left groups to join, they wish to see the groups themselves dissolve within the first year of joining - indeed, they regard even this year's grace as something of a concession.

At first sight, it might seem that the dockers are simply demanding real unity from the left groups: and we're all in favour of that, surely?

However, I would urge a third option: that of a party with factions. Factions are groups of members within a party which are free to organise campaigns to change a party's policies, and to publish their own papers with their own ideas. Such a party could allow the existing groups to join as factions, as well as allowing other members to form factions in the future.

At first sight, factions might seem to be simply a recipe for disunity and even disloyalty. If people wish to be a member of some other group, why join the party in the first place? This seems to be the view of the dockers themselves. Their comrade Terry Teague, wrote:

"Anyone who thinks they are being forced, browbeaten, or coerced into something that they are not fully committed to should be encouraged to remain within their own party, whilst we the dockers continue to work with those supporters who have both the conviction and passion needed for founding and developing a 'New Movement' that will in the course of time give those working class men and women who are looking for political change a real alternative."

He is comradely, and emphasises that a warm welcome will be held open for those who choose to join at a later date, but his view is clear: if you are genuinely serious about the party, you will not seek to organise smaller groups within it.

But I believe he is profoundly wrong. Factions are not a device to allow people to join a wider party while their loyalties remain with a smaller group. Factions are essential if we serious about building a democratic party: one which allows the members a real chance to change things: but this takes a little explaining.

Imagine yourself standing at the rostrum before the annual conference of the new workers' party. You are calling for change. No, you are calling for change brilliantly. Your words have captivated everyone in the hall. Several attractive delegates (of a gender of your choice) have already swooned in response to the power of your rhetoric. As one, those still conscious stand to give you an ovation. The party leadership, tears of remorse clear in their eyes, renounce their policy and immediately pledge to implement your ideas. What happens next?

You wake up, of course.

This is a dream. Political differences are not settled in this way. If the party has established a position you disagree with, by careful and consistent argument, and over time, you may be able to win the support of a few comrades for your ideas.

Now here's the rub. What does the party say to your small group of dissenters? You can oppose, but you cannot organise your opposition? You can raise your individual voices, but you cannot speak in concert? In other words, you must stand alone against the only group allowed to organise around its ideas: the party leadership, elected by the majority?

And remember, as an individual speaker you can only reach people at a single meeting.

To be effective, your ideas must be published. The party majority, through its elected leadership, controls the party's paper, its leaflets, its website... its whole machinery of public argument. What can you do as an individual? Submit your opinions in the hope that the editor of the party's paper sees fit to publish them?

Real democracy implies a real right to oppose: to argue that the majority is wrong, and to argue for change. No individual can stand against a party majority and its elected leadership: not because the majority is undemocratic or because the leadership is tyrannical, but simply because the majority is organised and the individual is simply an individual. United the leadership will stand, divided the dissenters will fall. This is not a principle which should be new to any socialist or working class activist!

No - the right to dissent is a sham if it is not the right to organise dissent, and the right to organise dissent is the right to form factions. Factions enjoy no special rights to ignore the decisions of the majority, to break party rules, or to abstain from party work. They must act with their comrades, and be loyal to and seek to build the party of which they are a part. But they must be free to organise around their minority views, to demonstrate the strength of their support in order to build a case for representation in leadership and in the party's press, and to publish independently.

There is a second reason why a workers' party must allow faction rights. At present, each of the left groups is organised around its particular plan for socialism: in other words, it is brought together by a particular set of ideas. However, the aim of a workers' party is not to peddle this or that opinion, but to represent the interests of working people: and to bring together all the most politically conscious workers to do it. Naturally, it will include socialists with many different views on how to achieve socialism. Without the right to faction, to argue minority views, it will split, and the rump remaining become just another left group, peddling its own particular line, amongst so many.

3 reform or revolution?

You receive an invitation to dinner from friends. On arriving, you find dimmed lights and candles, but you were expecting those. No, what really catches your attention is the live goat strapped to the dinner table. Your friend welcomes you, resplendent in a black cloak and carrying a dagger, and offers you a glass of red wine with a somewhat heavy consistency.

"Um, yes, yes, the car's running fine... Look, you seem to be holding some kind of black mass."

"Oh yes, didn't we mention that? Well, we find it tends to put people off a bit."

Now, for all I know, dear reader, under such circumstances you might leap in joyfully screaming the names of the dark angels. I'm guessing, though, that you'd leave.

To put it simply, revolutionaries should not be dressing in reformist clothes because they believe workers 'might be put off' by revolutionary politics. First and foremost, it is a deceit. Fail to convince someone of the case for revolution today, and you may still be able to do so tomorrow. Convince them that you cannot be trusted to argue your politics openly and honestly today, and you may find you can never convince them of anything again.

But secondly, this approach indicates an appalling lack of confidence both in socialist politics, and in the understanding of working people. Do we believe in our own politics? And if we argue that society's problems are caused by the rule of a wealthy, corporation-owning minority, how can we argue that anything other than the overthrow of their rule will solve those problems? We are in danger of accepting the capitalist orthodoxy that talk of revolution is inherently outdated, ridiculous, or inhuman - political satanism. In fact a revolutionary socialist is simply a democrat who means it.

Socialism is true. Socialism works. Socialism has answers which make sense. It argues that society's problems and injustices are not merely avoidable mistakes in government: but the result of a society run by a minority class in the interest of profit. From this basic argument, only one conclusion can logically follow: to solve those problems, class rule must be overturned, and power finally put into the hands of all. Such a change would be revolutionary: it would change not merely how we are governed, but who governs.

The reason for the weakness of the left is not that this case is difficult to make - it is a reality which millions feel in the very nature of their daily lives - but in the failure of the left to actually make it! As in the example I gave earlier, revolutionaries spoke to the crowds in Hyde Park, but did not give a socialist explanation of the class basis of war, apparently fearing that they would alienate those in the anti-war movement who were not yet socialists! Unsurprisingly, over a year later, the movement has largely broken up, and socialists remain in their self-imposed isolation.

This is not to say, of course, that revolutionaries ignore the day to day struggles over wages, the defence of the health service, the rights of students to free education, and so forth: or that we should withdraw from standing in elections or fighting alongside those who are, at the moment, only seeking reforms. This mistake is called ultra-leftism, and ignores the connection between the fight working people are conducting in defence of themselves and their families now, and the broadening of that struggle into a struggle for power itself. We must fight for every penny and every democratic right we can squeeze out of capitalism. But it is our role to argue that, ultimately, we can win only temporary and precarious victories until society itself is under the control of us all.

It is possible, of course, that the initiative to form a new workers' party will come not from the revolutionary groups - such is our current paralysis - but from the wider labour movement. Perhaps a group breaking from Labour, supported by the disaffiliated unions, may yet form. If so, it will not begin with revolutionary politics. In such a situation, once again, it would be sectarian to stand back and demand a revolutionary party: socialists should join with their fellow working class politicians in support of their campaigns, but arguing the case for revolutionary change.

There is a difference between doing this, however, and ourselves seeking to establish a reformist party.

After all, if we do not argue the case for revolution, then who will?

Manny Neira