Saturday, 13 June 2026

Postscript: On the Murder of Soviet Philosophy and the Meaning of Yakhot’s Intervention

Yehoshua Yakhot’s biographical appendix in *The Suppression of Philosophy in the 1920s* describes this record as, beyond just a metaphor, a form of political extermination, similar to a death register. The most prominent early Soviet Marxist philosophers vanish suddenly during the dark years of 1936 to 1938 — specifically in 1936, 1937, and 1938. The Great Terror not only stopped Marxist intellectual progress but also physically eliminated its supporters. It is evident that, “after people were executed, they were virtually erased from history.”

This fundamental truth is often avoided by bourgeois academics, Stalinist defenders, and post-Soviet nationalists. The abolition of Soviet philosophy wasn't accidental or a mistake; it wasn't a tragic mistake from a mainly logical socialist project. Instead, it was a deliberate move by a bureaucratic elite that seized power from the working class. They could only stay in control by erasing the intellectual, political, and moral legacy of October.

The Bureaucracy’s War Against Memory

Yakhot’s accomplishment isn’t just in reconstructing the philosophical debates of the 1920s; it’s also in revealing how the bureaucracy aimed to suppress them. The Stalinist regime recognised that maintaining its nationalist, anti-internationalist «socialism in one country» program required eradicating the living link to Marxism. This involved not only eliminating Oppositionists but also destroying any chance of their being remembered.

The Great Terror was primarily a political and epistemological campaign. Following executions, authorities worked to erase names from textbooks, libraries, and encyclopaedias. The bureaucracy aimed to eliminate any record of the Left Opposition, erase the philosophical debates of the 1920s, and ensure Lenin and Trotsky's ideological legacies had no successors. This explains why the appendix in Yakhot’s book is so unsettling — it functions as a list of those whom history was ordered to forget.

Writing Under the Shadow of the Terror

Yakhot authored his book within the USSR before his compelled emigration in 1975. Born in 1919, he was a young man during the Terror era. He experienced the abrupt disappearances, hushed rumours, and the empty spaces where colleagues and teachers once stood. When he discusses the “Menshevizing Idealists,” he is not simply reconstructing history academically but is instead engaging in a form of historical revival.

He understood that the names he revived were those condemned to obscurity by the bureaucracy. He also knew that the philosophical discussions he pieced together were debates the bureaucracy claimed never occurred. The men whose ideas he examined had been executed, starved, or forced to die in the camps. Writing such a book under these circumstances was a bold act of intellectual bravery and political resistance.

The Destruction of the Institute of Red Professors

The Institute of Red Professors, whose students are listed in Yakhot’s “death register," served as the core intellectual hub of the early Soviet Union. It trained a generation of Marxist philosophers, economists, and historians dedicated to building the ideological foundation of the workers’ republic. Many of these individuals had supported the Left Opposition in 1923. By 1936–38, simply having this affiliation was enough to sentence them to execution. The Soviet bureaucracy recognised that these people embodied the enduring spirit of October, making their purge a necessary political act.

Instead, the regime promoted the Mitins, the Yudins, and the Konstantinovs—officials whose job was not to think but to monitor ideas. They oversaw the shift of Marxist philosophy into a formalised excuse for bureaucratic privileges.

Theoretical Murder as the Essence of Stalinism

The core insight—and that of Yakhot’s book—is that the violent suppression of Marxist philosophers represented the logical endpoint of the Stalinist counter-revolution. Trotsky had warned since 1923 that the bureaucracy, rooted in scarcity and isolation, would inevitably clash with the revolutionary and internationalist spirit of Marxism. The Terror was the outcome of this conflict. Stalinism could not coexist with true Marxist thought; it needed to eliminate it. Therefore, equating Marxism with Stalinism is both historically inaccurate and politically reactionary. Stalinism was not a continuation but a negation of Marxism—a brutal, bloody rebuke to it.

Yakhot’s Final Act of Fidelity

Yakhot never abandoned Marxism. He spent his final days working on a study of Spinoza. This alone counters the cynical notion that the crimes of Stalinism undermine the revolutionary legacy. Yakhot’s life shows that the Marxist tradition persisted not through official Soviet philosophy but through those persecuted, exiled, and silenced. His book is thus more than a historical study; it serves as a memorial — a tribute to the murdered generation of Soviet Marxist philosophers — and as a polemical challenge against the falsification of history.

Conclusion: The Meaning of the “Death Register”

The “death register” at the end of Yakhot’s book is more than just an appendix; it serves as the core argument. It demonstrates that Stalinism was a form of counter-revolution, with the bureaucracy maintaining control through murder, and that the fall of Marxist philosophy marked the near destruction of the intellectual vanguard of the working class. Recalling these names is a way to recover the truth, and by doing so, to revive the revolutionary tradition that Stalinism aimed to wipe out. Yakhot’s work stands as both a testament to that tradition and a warning that fighting against historical distortion is inherently linked to the fight for socialism.

 

Trump’s World Cup and the Liberal Falsification of 1936

  “ A Low, Dishonest Decade”.

1939 ­English poet WH Auden

Brian Reade’s comparison of the 2026 World Cup to Hitler’s 1936 Olympics has triggered the usual hand-wringing in liberal circles. Despite its rhetorical flair, Reade’s argument—like all moralistic complaints from the declining Labour-aligned press—falls apart due to political evasions. The comparison with 1936 is not incorrect; what is flawed is the conclusion he draws from it.[1]

The United States, hosting the 2026 World Cup, is not just "controversial"; it embodies global imperialism through its illegal war against Iran, supporting the Gaza genocide, and conducting mass arrests and deportations of immigrant workers, unprecedented in recent American history. As has been reported, ICE agents will be present at every stadium. The Iranian team has been denied visas and faced what can only be seen as a veiled death threat from Trump. Meanwhile, the Congolese team has been targeted with a racist quarantine order that reflects the imperial disdain typical of the US-NATO war efforts.

Comparing these events to 1936 is more than an exaggeration; it's an understatement. The Nazi regime used the Berlin Olympics to project an image of a peaceful, cultured Germany while secretly preparing for genocide. Likewise, the Trump administration exploits the World Cup to spread a message of “unity,” even as ICE functions as an anti-immigrant force similar to the Gestapo, and the Pentagon conducts widespread destruction in the Middle East. Yet, beyond these parallels, the comparison quickly falls apart—and it exposes the political shortcomings of Reade’s framework.

The Liberal Myth of 1936

Reade, like all liberal moralists, references 1936 as a moral story: Jesse Owens humbling Hitler, representing individual bravery overcoming bigotry, and suggesting that sport can “shame” authoritarian regimes. This narrative serves as the mythology of a ruling class eager to hide its own complicity.

The stark truth is that by 1936, the German working class was crushed. The Communist Party and Social Democrats had betrayed the proletariat, paving the way for Hitler’s rise. Western democracies, especially Britain and the United States, did not boycott Berlin; instead, they collaborated. The American Olympic Committee, led by fascist-sympathizer Avery Brundage, fiercely resisted any boycott efforts. Meanwhile, US companies like IBM and Ford gained significant profits through their association with the Nazi regime.

The lesson from 1936 is not that sport can be corrupted by bad governments, but that the capitalist elites worldwide will cooperate with fascism when it benefits their interests. Only the unified effort of the global working class could have prevented Hitler’s rise, and only such collective action can now prevent our slide into war and dictatorship.

The Liberal Illusion of Boycotts and Moral Appeals

Reade’s strategies—such as boycotts, moral condemnations, and appeals to FIFA or the “international community”—are typical of a political tendency that has detached itself from the working class. These approaches rely on the false belief that the capitalist state and its institutions can be coerced into ethical actions.

However, FIFA is not an impartial judge corrupted by Trump; rather, it functions as a tool of global capitalism. Its president, Gianni Infantino, awarded Trump the bizarre “FIFA Peace Prize.” The tournament’s design—opening match in Mexico City with the later rounds held in the United States—reflects the geography of imperial power.

What about the governments Reade suggests might “take a stand”? Starmer’s Labour largely supports US imperialist wars as a loyal junior partner. The Democratic Party managed the same deportation system and imperialist machinery before Trump came back into office. Appealing to these forces means aligning with those responsible for the disaster.

Sport as a Weapon of the Capitalist State

Reade’s framework embraces the nationalist idea that the key issue in modern sport is determining which nation is “fit” to host. However, every capitalist country employs sport as a means of nationalist mobilization. The 2012 London Olympics, the 2014 Sochi Games, and the 2018 World Cup in Russia—each was used to cloak social inequality and imperial ambitions with patriotic symbolism.

However, the nationalist story is beginning to weaken. During the Milan Winter Olympics, thousands demonstrated against Trump and ICE, booing Vice President Vance. US athletes openly expressed their disapproval of the regime. Freestyle skier Chris Lillis said he was “heartbroken” over ICE’s actions and emphasized that athletes represent a different America than the one involved in mass repression.

Even in the United States, the nationalist event is faltering. While 75% of Americans are aware that the US is hosting the World Cup, almost a third intend to support a different country. This significant statistic highlights the immigrant heritage and globalist sentiments of millions—sentiments that the ruling elite cannot eliminate.

The Working Class and the Real Lesson of 2026

Modern football was built by the working class, shaping its culture, passion, and worldwide popularity— all rooted in working-class life. Instead of a moral boycott by liberal columnists, the solution to the nationalist spectacle of the 2026 World Cup is promoting awareness among the political class. The 1936 Olympics happened after the German working class was politically defeated and betrayed by Stalinism and social democracy. Similarly, the 2026 World Cup unfolds at a time when the international working class has yet to develop the revolutionary leadership needed to stop the progression toward war and dictatorship.

The lesson is not that sport should be considered 'pure” or “apolitical.” Throughout history, sport has always had political implications. The real lesson is that combating fascism, war, and authoritarianism cannot be delegated to FIFA, bourgeois governments, or the conscience of the ruling class. Instead, it must be done by the international working class.



[1]  Trump's World Cup is like Hitler's Olympics - we have a major lesson to learn'    www.mirror.co.uk/news/brian-reade-trumps-world-cup-37285848

Sean McMeekin: Court Historian of the Bourgeoisie and Falsifier of the Revolutionary Tradition

Introduction: A Historian for the Age of Reaction

Sean McMeekin has established himself over the past fifteen years as a leading figure in the spread of anti-communist falsehoods in the English-speaking world. His publications—including *The Russian Revolution: A New History* (2017), *Stalin’s War* (2021), *The Ottoman Endgame* (2015), *July 1914* (2013), and *To Overthrow the World: The Rise and Fall of Communism* (2024)—form a consistent ideological agenda.

These are not neutral scholarly works but political efforts to undermine Marxism, justify imperialism, and revive reactionary myths from the 20th century. McMeekin’s body of work is centred on a single premise: the October Revolution was disastrous, socialism is fundamentally authoritarian, and imperialist crimes are minor compared to the supposed atrocities committed by Marxist revolutionaries. This is more of an ideological battle than a historical account. It should be noted that McMeekin is not the only historian of the reactionary era.

Richard Pipes: The Court Historian of the American National‑Security State

Richard Pipes was less a historian of the Russian Revolution and more its prosecutor, assigned by the American ruling class to justify its worldwide anti-communist efforts. His work exemplifies Cold War reaction, dismissing class struggle, condemning Marxism, and displaying a contempt for the working class that approaches the pathological.

Pipes’ main claim—that Russia lacked a true "civil society” and thus couldn't generate a real revolution—was more a political dogma than a historical analysis. It enabled him to dismiss the entire mass movement of 1917 as driven by a conspiratorial minority. In Pipes’ perspective, millions of workers, soldiers, and peasants are invisible except as mere scenery for the scheming of “fanatics.”

His approach was straightforward: disregard the extensive documentary evidence of mass participation, select quotes that align with his thesis, invent unsubstantiated motives for Lenin and Trotsky, and blur the lines between Bolshevism and Stalinism to discredit both. Pipes’ work had a political aim: to give the Reagan administration and the CIA a pseudo-scholarly basis for their global counter-revolutionary efforts. He was the key architect of the “evil empire” narrative. His books are more ideological tools than history; they serve political purposes. By the late 20th century, Pipes was the most influential fabricator regarding the Russian Revolution.

Robert Conquest: The CIA’s Poet‑Propagandist

Robert Conquest was not truly a historian. Instead, he served as a propaganda officer for the British Foreign Office’s Information Research Department (IRD), a secret anti-communist division supported and led in partnership with the CIA. His publications were created as components of an intelligence effort rather than scholarly works.

Conquest’s approach was blunt but successful: he accepted hearsay as fact, inflated figures without evidence, uncritically used émigré testimony, presented speculation as certainty, and ignored archival material that contradicted his narrative. His most renowned works—The Great Terror and Harvest of Sorrow—were created to serve Cold War political agendas. They aimed to depict communism as fundamentally genocidal and to discredit socialist movements by linking them to mass murder.

Conquest’s legacy lies in popularising anti-communist myths within Western academia. Despite the opening of Soviet archives discrediting many of his assertions, his figures and stories persisted because they aligned with the ideological interests of the ruling class. Conquest was a Cold War propagandist posing as a historian.

Robert Service: The Biographical Assassin

Robert Service represents the degeneration of anti‑communist historiography in the post‑Soviet era. Unlike Pipes or Conquest, he had access to archives. Unlike Figes, he had no literary talent. Unlike McMeekin, he lacked even the energy of a polemicist. What he produced instead was character assassination disguised as biography.

His Trotsky biography exemplifies scholarly malpractice, with numerous factual errors, misquotations, distortions, and fabrications. It was so blatant that other historians reluctantly criticized it, accusing him of factual inaccuracies, methodological bias, and errors. The American Historical Review also condemned its inaccuracies. Even scholars who opposed Trotsky felt embarrassed. Service’s approach depends on psychological reductionism: depicting Lenin as cold and manipulative, Trotsky as vain and egotistical, and Bolshevism as a pathology rather than a political movement.

This isn't history; it's sensationalist psychoanalysis. The aim is to undermine Marxism by portraying its leaders as emotionally unstable. Instead of explaining the revolution, he diagnoses its figures. Service is a superficial biographer whose work falls apart under close examination.

Orlando Figes: The Liberal Tragedian of the Revolution

Orlando Figes seems the most superficially “balanced” within the group, but politics equally shape his work. His narrative approach and literary style conceal a fundamental liberal hostility towards the working class and a pronounced scepticism of revolutionary politics. Figes’ central claim is that the revolution was a “tragedy”—driven by cultural backwardness, emotional excess, and luck. This view allows him to dismiss the class dynamics of 1917, simplify political movements to psychological triggers, and portray the revolution as a moral failure rather than a social necessity.

The liberal concern about mass politics influences Fige’s work, viewing the working class's rise as dangerous. His narrative laments the failure of the “moderates". His career was marred by scandal when he was caught writing anonymous Amazon reviews to praise his own books and criticise rivals. This minor misconduct reflects the broader dishonesty in his historiography. Figes is a liberal moralist who romanticises the revolution, removing its political substance.

Sean McMeekin: The 21st‑Century Falsifier

Sean McMeekin exemplifies this entire tradition, where anti-communist history dismisses even the appearance of rigorous scholarship. His work compiles every slander, falsification, and falsehood ever associated with the Russian Revolution. McMeekin is known for reintroducing discredited claims such as Lenin being a German agent, an anti-Semite, Trotsky as a Bundist, and October as a foreign-funded coup. These assertions were debunked over a century ago, yet he continues to repeat them to serve his political aims. As David North pointed out, he manipulates sources by misrepresenting scholars like Lyandres and distorting their conclusions to support statements they explicitly oppose. He dismisses the working class, framing the revolution as a criminal conspiracy rather than a mass movement.

This aligns with Pipes’ thesis, but McMeekin strips it of its original scholarly context, turning it into a crude political polemic. His writing style is that of a political combatant. His epilogue, “The Spectre of Communism,” openly states his goal of warning against contemporary socialist ideas. He is not an objective historian but is instead crafting a political manifesto for the right. McMeekin stands out as the most blatant falsifier of the Russian Revolution in the 21st century.

The Anti‑Communist School Exposed

These five historians vary in style, era, and approach. Yet, they serve a common political purpose: to deny the revolutionary power of the working class and to delegitimise socialism as a historical force. Conquest contributed propaganda, Pipes supplied ideological framing, the service offered character assassination, Figes expressed liberal lamentation, and McMeekin fuelled culture-war hysteria.

McMeekin’s newest book is part of a well-known genre of anti-communist propaganda. It gathers all accusations ever made against socialism and communism, takes them out of context, dismisses any evidence that might suggest their innocence, and presents the biased story to a publishing industry eager to discredit the revolutionary tradition. This characterisation applies not just to 'To Overthrow the World' but to McMeekin’s entire body of work.

The Method: Falsification as Historical Practice

The Inversion of Evidence

McMeekin’s signature approach involves turning evidence upside down. He cites reputable research exclusively to oppose its conclusions. A well-known example is his treatment of Semion Lyandres’ "The Bolsheviks’ German Gold” Revisited. Lyandres explicitly stated that: "There was no evidence of the ‘German connection.’" McMeekin references Lyandres but asserts the opposite. This is not a mistake; it appears to be intentional deception.

The Fabrication of Motives and Events

In *The Russian Revolution: A New History*, McMeekin incorrectly asserts that the 1903 Bolshevik–Menshevik split revolved around “the Jewish question,” claims Martov founded the Bund, and alleges Lenin supported anti-Semitic views. This is a significant error—more than simple inaccuracy, it’s a calculated defamation disguised as scholarship. McMeekin’s distortions are consistently motivated by political agendas, seeking to undermine the Bolshevik legacy by associating it with reactionary chauvinism.

 The Psychologization of History

McMeekin often replaces material analysis with psychological speculation. He portrays Lenin as a fanatic, Trotsky as a conspirator, Stalin as a misunderstood pragmatist, and imperialist politicians as sober realists. This approach lets McMeekin sidestep the social forces shaping history—such as class struggle, economic crises, and imperialist rivalries—and instead simplifies events to the acts of “armed prophets” and “utopian dreamers.”

The Sanitisation of Imperialism

In Stalin’s War, McMeekin reinterprets the foreign policy of Western imperialist powers, depicting them as hesitant actors compelled into global conflict by Soviet treachery. The narrative omits the crimes of colonialism, the genocidal actions of the British Empire, and the economic interests driving imperialist wars. The sole villain allowed to stand is communism.

McMeekin openly reveals his political bias saying “Social inequality will always be with us… The necessary response… [is to] strengthen our defences and resist armed prophets promising social perfection.” This reflects the core of his ideology: inequality is constant, revolution is risky, and the ruling class must be ready to use violence to suppress social equality movements. His regret that Kerensky did not “physically exterminate the Bolsheviks” in July 1917 exemplifies this worldview. McMeekin writes history to justify repression, turning his books into guides for counter-revolution.

McMeekin in the Anti‑Communist Canon

McMeekin is recognised alongside Robert Service, Stephen Kotkin, Timothy Snyder, and Frank Dikötter as a prominent figure in the “rise and fall of communism” genre. These works often: “equate Stalinism with communism… and thereby obscure the revolutionary legacy of Marx, Engels, Lenin, and Trotsky.” Notably crude distortions of sources mark McMeekin’s role in this field, a tendency to revive discredited accusations (such as “German gold”), and an open endorsement of counter-revolutionary violence. While Kotkin seeks scholarly seriousness and Snyder adopts a moralistic stance, McMeekin prefers the blunt force of reactionary polemics.

The Real History: Revolution and Counter‑Revolution

Against McMeekin’s distortions, it is important to reassert the essential truth: “The October Revolution was the greatest event in human history—the first time the working class took state power and began the construction of a society free from exploitation.”

McMeekin cannot explain the revolution because he fails to acknowledge the role of the masses. To him, history is driven by conspirators rather than the millions of workers, peasants, and soldiers who actively participated in the 1917 crisis. Likewise, he cannot account for Stalinism because he refuses to recognise the political struggle led by the Left Opposition. As Vadim Rogovin shows, Stalinism was not the realisation of Bolshevism but its opposite— a bureaucratic counter-revolution based on the Soviet state's isolation. McMeekin collapses these distinctions because his purpose is not to understand history but to destroy the revolutionary tradition.

Why McMeekin Matters: The Bourgeoisie Arms Itself

The resurgence of anti-communist falsifications responds to the worsening crisis of global capitalism. As I previously noted, “Books like McMeekin’s are a measure of the ruling class’s fear, not its confidence.” The ruling class detects a revival of revolutionary feelings and reacts by hiring intellectual mercenaries to rewrite history, vilify socialism, and justify repression. McMeekin exemplifies one such mercenary. His work serves as an ideological counterpart to state militarisation, the suppression of dissent, and preparations for new imperialist conflicts.

Conclusion: Exposing the Falsifier

Sean McMeekin’s work is more propaganda than scholarship. It manipulates evidence, twists motives, ignores class struggle, sanitises imperialism, and vilifies revolution. It aligns with the political interests of a ruling class facing its most significant crisis since the 1930s.

 

A Literary Monument to Historical Evasion: Antonio Scurati’s M: Il figlio del secolo and the Cultural Rehabilitation of Italian Fascism

 

Introduction: A Novel for a Reactionary Epoch

Antonio Scurati’s M: Il figlio del secolo (2018) has been celebrated by Italy's cultural elite as a major achievement: winning the Premio Strega, becoming a publishing sensation, and inspiring a lavish Sky TV adaptation. Its success is closely linked to the political context of its release. The novel appeared in 2018, a year when the Five Star–Lega coalition brought far-right politics into government, and just four years before Giorgia Meloni’s Fratelli d’Italia—descendants of Mussolini’s movement—came to power.

The celebration of Scurati’s Mussolini novel isn’t just a cultural event; it reflects a broader ideological trend. It contributes to normalising, trivialising, and aesthetically sanitising fascism within bourgeois society. As Peter Schwarz noted during the centenary of the March on Rome, the anniversary was “not only of historical interest but of urgent political relevance. Just a week prior, his political successors had taken control of the Italian government.” The support for M by the Italian intellectuals should be understood within this framework.

The Novel’s Method: Biography as Historical Obfuscation

Scurati’s main idea—that Mussolini is the “son of the century' and embodies the spirit of his time—exposes a key ideological flaw in the novel. The text rightly points out that this is a methodological mistake: “Fascism is explained not as a product of the crisis of capitalism… but rather as the expression of a historical Zeitgeist incarnated in a single personality.” This is more than just an artistic decision; it constitutes a political misrepresentation.

By focusing on Mussolini’s psychology, charisma, sexual appetites, and opportunism, Scurati echoes typical bourgeois historical narratives. The underlying issues, such as the crisis of Italian capitalism, betrayals by the PSI reformist leadership, the trade-union bureaucracy’s cowardice, and Stalinist sabotage of revolutionary potential, are overshadowed by the novelist’s obsession with the dictator’s personality.

Trotsky’s analysis, referenced in the document, begins with a different assumption: “When the ‘normal’ police and military forces of the bourgeois dictatorship… fail to uphold social stability, the fascist regime seizes power.” Fascism is not a result of a “century spirit,’ but a tool of the ruling class created by finance capital to oppose the revolutionary working class. Scurati’s biographical approach consistently conceals this reality.

The Disappearance of the Working Class

M’s most revealing aspect is how it systematically removes the working class’s presence. The Biennio Rosso—the period marked by factory occupations, workers’ councils, and a near-revolutionary upheaval in 1919–1920—acts only as a faint backdrop to Mussolini’s actions. As the document states: “The true tragedy of Italian fascism is not Mussolini’s charisma or monstrosity; it is that a significant revolutionary working-class movement was crushed for lack of a truly Marxist leadership.”

This is the history Scurati cannot disclose. His narrative, focused on the dictator as the central figure, makes it impossible. The working class appears as a faceless crowd, serving only as a backdrop for Mussolini's actions. The revolutionary potential of the Italian proletariat—once a source of concern for the bourgeoisie and an inspiration for workers across Europe—is now reduced to mere atmospheric detail. This issue goes beyond literature and has political implications. Omitting the working class from the history of fascism becomes a necessary step toward its political rehabilitation.

Aestheticisation and the Seductions of Reaction

The novel’s use of documentary elements—such as archival excerpts, letters, and newspaper clippings—has been widely recognised as a mark of seriousness. However, this approach does not prevent fascism from being aestheticised; in fact, it sometimes promotes it. The document itself warns that “the line between critical representation and aesthetic complicity is thin,” and Scurati often crosses this boundary. By centring Mussolini in a sweeping narrative, the novel makes him inherently compelling. Readers are encouraged to view things from his perspective, follow his rise, and see the consolidation of fascist power as a compelling story arc. This reflects the long-standing danger in bourgeois portrayals of fascism: the tendency to turn political tragedy into a visual or artistic spectacle.

David Walsh’s critique of The March on Rome is relevant here too: the work “includes much intriguing imagery… but is confused and, in the end, quite wrong-headed.” Scurati compiles a comprehensive documentary record, but the framework—Mussolini as the “son of the century”—fails to create an accurate portrayal of fascism.

The Political Function of M: Fascism as Cultural Spectacle

The widespread popularity of M serves a clear ideological purpose in modern Italy. As was said before, the novel enables middle-class readers to explore fascism as a historical event, while those connected to fascism strengthen their political influence today. The core of the novel’s political significance lies in its transformation of fascism from a present threat into a literary relic. It allows intellectuals to feel morally superior without confronting the rise of the far right today. It aestheticises the bourgeoisie’s historical crimes, making them seem safe for consumption. Additionally, it conceals the class forces that gave rise to fascism and are behind its recent revival. This is no coincidence; it reflects the cultural shift parallel to the political reintegration of the far right.

Conclusion: What the Working Class Requires

The working class does not require another grand novel about Mussolini. Instead, it needs a scientific Marxist analysis of fascism as a particular form of bourgeois dominance, rooted in the capitalist crisis and only preventable through the autonomous political mobilisation of the working class. The document ends with justified sternness: “On that score, Scurati’s novel offers nothing.” This is the core judgment. M: Il figlio del secolo is not a valuable contribution to understanding fascism. Rather, it stands as a monument to the ideological evasions of today's bourgeois intellectuals—a literary expression of the very crisis that is once again elevating the far right to power.

 

Friday, 12 June 2026

Mexico’s Azteca Stadium Protests Expose the Social Fault Lines Beneath the 2026 World Cup

 “Inside the stadium: a carefully curated spectacle of nationalism and corporate branding… Outside the stadium: the real Mexico.”

12 June 2026

The intense scenes outside Mexico City’s Estadio Azteca on the opening day of the 2026 World Cup exposed the fragile illusion of 'unity” and “celebration” promoted by FIFA, the Mexican government, and corporate sponsors, who dominate every aspect of the event. The incident at Gate Eight—where striking CNTE teachers and the families of Mexico’s disappeared forced past heavily armed security—was not an isolated event but a reflection of deep social tensions that have long been overlooked. “The scenes outside the Azteca Stadium are the eruption of social contradictions that the 2026 World Cup’s corporate and governmental organizers have tried desperately to suppress.” The ruling class has failed.

A confrontation long in the making

For weeks, the CNTE teachers’ union warned they would confront the World Cup with their fight for wages, pensions, and democratic rights. Their slogan—sin solución, no rodará el balón (“without a solution, the ball will not roll”)—was a clear political statement, not just a rhetorical flourish. As some of the most militant members of the Mexican working class, the teachers have declined to accept the austerity measures imposed by the Sheinbaum government.

Their arrival at the Azteca was accompanied by another persistent force: the mothers of Mexico’s disappeared. For over a decade, these women have taken on the work the government refuses to do—searching for their children, uncovering mass graves, and challenging the military and political powers behind the disappearances. “These mothers have become their own investigators… because the same state that took their children is now deploying riot police with shields to defend FIFA’s branding.”

The symbolism is unmistakable. The Mexican government, which has long blocked justice for the 43 Ayotzinapa students missing since 2014, now deploys its repressive forces to protect FIFA's commercial interests.

Inside and outside the stadium: two irreconcilable realities

The Azteca Stadium became a physical and political border separating two incompatible worlds.

Inside:

  • $2,500 tickets sold through “dynamic pricing”
  • corporate hospitality suites
  • FIFA executives projecting $11 billion in revenue
  • a nationalist spectacle choreographed for global television

Outside:

  • teachers fighting for pensions
  • mothers searching for their disappeared children
  • riot police with shields and batons
  • the working class confronting the violence of the state

The World Cup, far from uniting the nation, has exposed the depth of social inequality and the brutality required to maintain it.

The international dimension: a tournament under the shadow of repression

The 2026 World Cup marks the first time the United States, Mexico, and Canada co-host it. Rather than displaying “North American unity,” the event has exposed the common authoritarian direction of all three governments. In the U.S., ICE agents are present at every venue, transforming stadiums into militarised zones. Migrant workers—who often work in kitchens, cleaning, and security—face risks of detention and deportation, despite their essential roles in making the tournament happen.

In Mexico, the Sheinbaum administration has responded to the CNTE strike with the same disdain as previous governments. The report states that the government “refuses even to meet with striking teachers while dispatching security forces against them.” Canada, on the other hand, has increased intelligence sharing and border enforcement in collaboration with US agencies, ensuring the tournament is protected within a continental security framework. This repression is deliberate; it is the necessary response to a tournament whose profits rely on silencing working-class opposition.

Historical parallels: Argentina 1978 and the politics of spectacle

The comparison to the 1978 World Cup under the Argentine military regime is accurate. Back then, as now, the ruling class aimed to use football to conceal a legitimacy crisis. The stadium served as a venue where the government showcased unity while secretly repressing dissent beyond public view. "The 1978 comparison Uco made in his article is fitting." Although Mexico is not a military dictatorship, it shares the same fundamental pattern: employing sport as a political tool to hide societal issues.

The World Cup as a battlefield of class interests

The events at Azteca Stadium highlight a key reality of the 2026 World Cup: it’s not about worldwide unity, but a contest between class forces. The workers outside—teachers, precarious labourers, mothers of the disappeared—align their interests with those inside, including stadium cooks threatened by ICE, cleaners working long shifts, and migrant workers who built the infrastructure under risky conditions.

The nationalist spectacle aims to divide them, but the class struggle brings them together. As the document states, “The game will continue, but the social contradictions erupting at Gate Eight will not be settled on a football field.”

The political task ahead

The protests at the Azteca serve as a warning: the ruling class will deploy every tool—police repression, nationalist propaganda, and corporate media—to protect their profits and silence dissent. However, the working class, both in Mexico and globally, is beginning to resist. The goal is to turn these spontaneous outbursts of anger into a deliberate political movement, grounded in a socialist program and focused on international worker solidarity. The World Cup has exposed a vital truth: the fight for justice for the disappeared, fair wages, democratic rights, and an end to state violence is intrinsically linked to the broader struggle against capitalism that creates these injustices. The protest at Gate Eight marks only the start.

 

Anna Reid’s A Nasty Little War: A Political Cover Up for the Crimes of Imperialism

Anna Reid’s A Nasty Little War isn't a traditional history book. Instead, it's a political tool—a meticulously constructed lie aimed at benefiting the same imperialist forces that caused bloodshed in Russia in 1918 and are now involved in a destructive proxy war in Eastern Europe. Its goal is to numb the working class, hide the class-driven nature of imperialist violence, and restore the ideological basis for a new global conflict.

The main argument of the book—that the Allied intervention in Soviet Russia was a “nasty little” misadventure—is a grotesque misrepresentation. It serves as a falsehood fabricated by a ruling class planning new atrocities.

I. The Historical Crime Reid Cannot Admit

The Allied intervention was a major attempt by global capitalism to suppress the workers’ state. Fourteen imperialist countries—Britain, France, the US, Japan, and their allies—launched a multi-front invasion to overturn the October Revolution and restore capitalist control. Winston Churchill, the main planner of the intervention, openly stated that the Bolshevik Revolution needed to be “strangled in its cradle.” Reid mentions this line but only as a vivid detail, ignoring its grave significance: the ruling class recognised that the October Revolution posed a direct threat to their worldwide dominance.

Reid’s narrative centres on concealing this truth. She depicts the intervention as a tragic confusion, a geopolitical mistake, a “nasty little war” that spiralled out of control. This is not just inadequate; it is a political lie.

II. The Erasure of the Working Class: The Central Falsification

The most striking aspect of Reid’s book is how it almost completely omits the international working class—the key group that opposed the intervention. This omission is intentional, not accidental, serving a strategic political purpose.

Britain

The “Hands Off Russia” movement mobilised hundreds of thousands of workers, with dockers refusing to load munitions and railway workers refusing to transport them. The Labour leadership, fearing the rank and file, pressured the government to withdraw. Reid, however, dismisses this as a minor aside.

France

The Black Sea mutinies, in which French sailors refused to fire on Bolshevik positions, were essentially political revolts that deeply unsettled the French ruling class. Reid views them primarily as a morale issue.

Canada

The Victoria mutiny, where conscripts refused to go to Vladivostok, was a clear sign of anti-war and pro-Bolshevik feelings. Reid hardly mentions it.

Why this matters

The defeat of the Allied intervention was due not only to the Red Army but also to the global working class. This fact challenges bourgeois historians because it shows that workers, when acting consciously and internationally, have the power to halt imperialist wars. Reid's silence is deliberate; it forms the core falsehood that underpins her entire story.

III. The Political Function of Reid’s Book in the Present War Drive

Reid is part of the same ideological circle as Timothy Snyder, Anne Applebaum, and the broader group of academics and journalists who support NATO’s geopolitical goals. Her earlier book, Borderland, helped spread the nationalist mythology that now forms the basis of Western policy in Ukraine. A Nasty Little War serves a similar purpose.

By portraying the 1918–20 intervention as a tragic miscalculation rather than a counter‑revolutionary crusade, Reid accomplishes three political tasks:

  1. She sanitises imperialism. The great powers appear misguided, not murderous.
  2. She erases the working class. The decisive force in history disappears, replaced by diplomats and generals.
  3. She legitimises contemporary aggression. If past interventions were merely “nasty little” mistakes, then today’s intervention in Ukraine can be framed as a noble defence of democracy.

Reid’s book is thus not a contribution to historical understanding but a weapon in the ideological arsenal of the ruling class.

IV. The Real History: A Global Class War

The Allied intervention was a worldwide counter-revolutionary campaign that covered regions such as the Arctic, Siberia, the Caucasus, the Baltic, and the Black Sea. It involved widespread atrocities committed by the White armies, including pogroms, torture, and mass executions. Reid notes these brutal acts diligently but avoids explaining them, unwilling to acknowledge that these atrocities were not isolated incidents but manifestations of the social forces that the imperialist powers aimed to reinstate.

The Bolsheviks' success was not due to ruthlessness, as Reid suggests, but rather because they embodied the only social force capable of mobilising the masses: the working class and the poor peasantry. Their victory was part of the revolutionary surge across Europe from 1918 to 1923. Reid misses this point because it highlights the working class's revolutionary potential today.

V. The Continuity of Imperialist Violence

Reid’s book comes at a time when the same imperialist powers that invaded Russia in 1918 are once again engaged in conflict in Eastern Europe. This ongoing pattern is no coincidence but reflects a structural continuity. In 1918, the goal was to dismantle the workers’ state. In 2023–26, the objective shifts to subordinating Russia to Western financial interests and encircling China.

Reid’s downplaying of history obscures this continuity. By describing the earlier intervention as a “nasty little war,” she normalises the belief that the West has the right to intervene anywhere, anytime, for any reason. This serves as ideological groundwork for a much larger conflict.

VI. The Marxist Lesson: Only the Working Class Can Stop Imperialist War

The defeat of the Allied intervention was not a miracle; it resulted from the Bolshevik Party’s revolutionary leadership, the international solidarity of the working class, and the clarity of Marxist politics. Later, Stalinism undermined this leadership with its nationalist doctrine of “socialism in one country,” which disconnected the revolution from its international roots. This led to the Soviet state's bureaucratic decline and the eventual return of capitalism. Today, as the Fourth International has argued since 1938, rebuilding this revolutionary leadership on an international scale is crucial. The working class remains the only force capable of preventing a new world war. Reid’s book aims to stop the working class from having to learn this lesson the hard way.

VII. Conclusion: Against Historical Falsification, For Revolutionary Clarity

A Nasty Little War is more than just a popular history; it serves as a political tool supporting imperialism. It distorts the past to justify current actions, dismisses the working class to weaken it, and turns a global class struggle into a tragic misunderstanding. Marxists must reject this account outright. The genuine history of the Allied intervention highlights: the relentless hostility of imperialism toward any challenge from below, the power of a conscious, international working class, and the crucial importance of revolutionary leadership. These lessons are not just theoretical—they are urgent. With the world teetering on the edge of a new imperialist crisis, the working class must arm itself with the unvarnished truth of history, not the sanitized myths peddled by bourgeois historians.

The Fraud of the “Complete and Unabridged” One-Volume Capital: How Capitalism Commodifies Marx to Disarm the Working Class

The rise of “complete and unabridged” one-volume editions of Capital—available via Amazon’s algorithm-driven marketplace and created by anonymous print-on-demand producers—signals a new phase in turning Marx’s critique of political economy into a commodity. These editions are neither scholarly nor practical books. They are capitalist fakes, crafted to capitalise on Marx’s reputation while making his ideas difficult to access. Their circulation reflects the cultural decline of late capitalism and the persistent attempt to diminish Marxism's revolutionary impact.

I.  A Commodity Fetish in Paperback Form

The quick emergence of many 'complete” one-volume editions of Capital isn't due to renewed academic interest in Marx. Instead, it's driven by market forces akin to those behind plagiarized cookbooks, AI-generated coloring books, and counterfeit self-help guides. The sellers stay anonymous, publishers are fictitious, the process is automated, and the primary goal is profit.

The marketing claim—“THE ONLY COMPLETE AND UNABRIDGED EDITION IN ONE VOLUME!”—is inaccurate. As explained in the uploaded document, these editions often depend on public-domain translations that are over a century old, such as the Moore/Aveling and Untermann versions, which contain notable errors and inaccuracies. These outdated texts were replaced years ago by the Penguin Classics translations, authored by Ben Fowkes (Vol. I) and David Fernbach (Vols. II–III), both of which utilize modern philological research and the MEGA (Marx-Engels Gesamtausgabe) project.

The true deception resides in the very form of the work. The single-volume edition of Capital, covering 2,000 pages printed in tiny font on delicate, curling paper, isn’t intended for conventional reading. Instead, it functions as a challenging object, more suited for wrestle than reading. Ultimately, it isn’t crafted for easy consumption. The bourgeois market shows little interest in understanding Marx; it primarily values the circulation of commodities. This single-volume Capital exemplifies this focus: a commodity whose exchange value has been artificially inflated by reducing its use-value.

II.  The Translation Question

Using outdated translations is intentional and stems from the nature of the print-on-demand system. Public-domain texts are available for free, but scholarly translations need funding. The Penguin editions represent years of editorial, historical, and philological effort that cannot be justified within the slim profit margins of algorithm-driven capitalism.The accuracy of Marx’s precise theoretical language is compromised as a result. Although Moore and Aveling’s translation of Volume I holds historical importance, it is riddled with Victorian expressions and vague ideas. The translations of Volumes II and III by Untermann are even more problematic: they lack precision, are inconsistent, and sometimes entirely wrong. Such distortions cannot be tolerated by the working class. Marx’s critique of political economy is more than just a literary piece; it is a scientific analysis of the capitalist system. Relying on flawed translations weakens its revolutionary impact. wer.

III.  The Engels Question

The most misleading aspect concerns Volume III, shown in print-on-demand editions as Marx’s final work. However, this is incorrect. The document clarifies that Engels’ 1894 edition is a reconstruction derived from Marx’s incomplete manuscripts from 1864–65. It is reported that Engels made considerable undocumented modifications, such as reorganizing sections, moving material, and adding his own expressions. Research by Michael Heinrich in the MEGA archive confirms these points.

Engels worked with political integrity given the difficult circumstances. However, the fact remains: Volume III is a mediated version. Calling it 'unabridged Marx” is politically misleading. The print-on-demand copies make this worse by eliminating all scholarly features—no notes, no explanations, no context. They treat Engels’ edition as the absolute truth, which contradicts Marxism.

IV. Historical Parallels

The falsification of Marx is not new. It has been a constant feature of bourgeois ideological warfare.

        In the late 19th century, bourgeois economists dismissed Capital as metaphysics while quietly appropriating its insights into crisis, competition, and concentration.

        In the early 20th century, the Second International canonized Marx while abandoning his revolutionary conclusions.

        Under Stalinism, Marx was mutilated into a state ideology, stripped of dialectics, and reduced to a catechism.

        In the neoliberal era, Marx was declared “dead,” even as his analysis of exploitation, crisis, and class polarization became more relevant than ever.

The print-on-demand Capital exemplifies the latest development in this process. Rather than ideological distortion, it entails physical deterioration. Marx becomes illegible because of the very marketplace he criticized.

V. The Physical Form as Ideological Weapon

The single-volume Capital symbolizes the intellectual decline of our time. It is too large to hold, annotate, or study effectively, overwhelming the reader before they even begin. This isn't accidental; it reflects a system where knowledge is generated for profit rather than understanding. The bourgeoisie fears Marx not because of the physical book, but because of the empowering ideas it contains for the working class. The one-volume edition acts as a tool of disarmament.

VI.  What Must Be Done: 

The working class must reclaim Marx from commercialized online versions. This means rejecting superficial pseudo-editions and emphasizing scholarly accuracy and correct historical context. Using trusted editions such as Penguin Classics and MEGA when available is crucial. Recognizing that distorting Marx’s ideas is a political act requires an appropriate political response. The document rightly recommends Penguin editions and Mehring Books’ Essential Marx, which contains “the fundamentals of Marx’s economic teaching in Marx’s own words,” as Leon Trotsky observed. Overall, the goal is political: to restore Marxism as the key theoretical foundation of the international socialist movement.

VII.  Conclusion: 

The single-volume edition of Capital exemplifies how capitalism undermines Marx's work. It transforms the sharpest critique of the capitalist system into a cheaply made, unreadable product, reducing theory to garbage. However, the working class doesn't need such shallow commodities; they require clarity, precision, and Marx himself. Studying Capital today prepares us for the challenges of the twenty-first century. Rejecting these misleading one-volume versions is a stand against capitalism's tendency to degrade intellectual effort. It's a small but crucial act of defending our intellectual integrity.

 

 

Thursday, 11 June 2026

There Is No Place For Us: Capitalism, Homelessness, And The Political Economy Of Misery

 I. Introduction: A Portrait of a System in Collapse

Brian Goldstone’s There Is No Place for Us comes at a time when the United States—the wealthiest capitalist country in history—is facing social suffering on a scale that would have been unimaginable a generation ago. Homelessness has reached historic highs, rent prices are climbing much faster than wages, and many workers, even with one or two jobs, are on the verge of eviction, displacement, and poverty.

Goldstone’s book, awarded the 2026 Pulitzer Prize for General Nonfiction, is a compelling piece of investigative journalism. It explores five working-class families in Atlanta who are caught in the cycle of homelessness. The strength of the book comes from its detailed, personal portrayal of how a system that views housing as a commodity—rather than a social right—acts as a tool for speculation and profits off the most vulnerable. “The book’s most devastating revelation is that homelessness is not a breakdown of the system — it is a business model.”

Goldstone reveals a fundamental truth, even if he doesn't fully articulate its political implications. The suffering of homeless people isn't accidental, due to personal failings, or merely because of bureaucratic errors. Instead, it is an expected consequence of a capitalist system where all human needs are sacrificed for the profit goals of the financial elite.

Goldstone’s report offers significant insights, though it is limited by modern liberal ideology. This essay aims to be twofold: to analyse the compelling critique of American capitalism in Goldstone’s work and to situate its political limitations within the broader crisis of liberal reformism and the urgent necessity for socialist transformation.

II. The Human Face of Structural Violence

Goldstone’s story highlights families that don't fit the typical “homeless' stereotype. These are workers—warehouse staff, caregivers, service industry employees—whose labor keeps society running. Despite their essential roles, they cannot access the basic human need of stable housing. "In America right now, a low-wage job ... is homelessness waiting to happen." This is not an exaggeration but an accurate reflection of the structural challenges faced by millions of workers. The families featured are not rare cases; they represent a large and growing segment of the working population where the line between housed and unhoused is extremely thin.

Extended‑Stay Hotels: The New Tenements

One of Goldstone’s key contributions is his expose of the extended-stay hotel industry. These hotels—often dirty, cramped, and unsafe—serve as the last resort for families evicted or unable to afford traditional rentals. They impose high weekly rates that usually exceed the monthly rent of a modest apartment. In 2020, Blackstone and Starwood Capital Group acquired Extended Stay America for $6 billion, the same year the chain earned $96 million in profit while housing families with nowhere else to go.

This is the harsh reality of modern capitalism. The same private equity firms that purchase single-family homes, increase rent costs, and automate evictions also benefit financially from the suffering they cause. The extended-stay hotel turns into the last step in a cycle of exploitation, starting with wage suppression and culminating in turning homelessness into a source of profit.

Eviction as a Mechanised Process

Goldstone highlights the growth of automated eviction systems—software owned by private equity firms that enable landlords to start eviction processes with just a few clicks. This automation of displacement is a natural progression of a system that views housing mainly as a financial investment instead of a fundamental human need. As a result, families are being evicted by algorithms—without human oversight, discretion, or compassion—creating a Kafkaesque situation.

The State as an Instrument of Exclusion

One of the most striking examples in the book is Celeste's story: a mother fighting cancer while residing with her children in a run-down extended-stay hotel. When she reaches out to the Department of Housing and Urban Development (HUD) for help, they inform her she isn't considered “homeless” since she's not sleeping on the street. Goldstone notes, “The system is designed to exclude, to exhaust, to wear people down until they stop asking.”

This isn't just bureaucratic incompetence; it's a deliberate policy. The system is intentionally designed to withhold aid from those in greatest need, in order to conserve resources for the wealthy and uphold the myth that homelessness is a personal failure, rather than acknowledging it as a structural issue.

III. Homelessness as a Business Model: The Political Economy of Displacement

Goldstone’s key analysis shows that homelessness isn’t a flaw of capitalism but rather a lucrative part of it. The displacement of low-income individuals isn’t just a side effect of urban growth; it’s a systematic way of extracting wealth.

The book references the LA Tenants Union’s definition of gentrification: “The displacement and replacement of the poor for profit.” This is more than a metaphor; it directly describes how capital accumulates in today's urban settings.

Private Equity and the Financialization of Housing

The transformation of housing into a global asset class is a significant element of 21st-century capitalism. Major private equity firms like Blackstone, Starwood, and Cerberus have bought hundreds of thousands of homes to rent out profitably. They have also heavily invested in mobile home parks, student housing, and extended-stay hotels, which mainly cater to the most vulnerable and unstable parts of the working class. The logic is clear: evictions boost income, displacement increases property values, and homelessness drives demand for costly, low-quality “temporary” housing. Consequently, the hardships faced by the working class become a source of profit.

 

 

The State as Partner, Not Regulator

Contrary to popular liberal beliefs, the state is not separate from this process; it actively participates. Zoning laws, tax incentives, deregulation, and the dismantling of public housing all work to enable profit extraction from housing. HUD’s choice not to classify families in extended-stay hotels as “homeless” is a deliberate political decision, not an administrative error, intended to restrict access to aid and cut public spending. The state’s role is to manage homelessness in a way that maintains the housing market's profitability, rather than alleviating it.

IV. The Liberal Limitation: The Ideology of “We”

Despite the strength of his reporting, Goldstone ultimately describes the crisis in a way that obscures its class nature. He states that homelessness is something “we have collectively made as a society." As your document rightly points out, this language blurs the line between those who suffer and those who profit. Goldstone comments, "No one chose this epidemic of homelessness except the financial parasites who benefit from it.”

This is the main political flaw in Goldstone’s analysis. By using a universal “we,” he eliminates the distinction between the working class and the capitalist class. He recasts a class conflict as a moral failing of society overall. This reflects a key feature of modern liberalism: the tendency to deny the existence of class struggle, despite clear evidence.

The Reformist Horizon: Social Housing

Goldstone suggests establishing a “public option” for housing, inspired by systems in Vienna and Finland. Although such initiatives have historically offered substantial benefits to workers, they arose from particular historical contexts: the postwar class power dynamics, strong labour movements, and Cold War geopolitical pressures. The book notes, “Finland and Vienna are invoked as models, but these are small, wealthy social formations whose welfare states were products of a specific postwar balance of class forces — a balance that is now being dismantled across Europe.”

This is a key point. The social-democratic reforms of the mid-20th century weren't gifts from progressive governments; they were concessions gained by a militant working class during a time of exceptional economic expansion. These conditions no longer apply. Currently, the global capitalist system faces a profound crisis, and the ruling class is countering with austerity measures, militarism, and repression rather than reforms. Proposing social housing within the current American capitalist framework is asking for something that the ruling class will neither grant nor support.

V. Race, Class, and the Historical Roots of Dispossession

Goldstone highlights that in Atlanta, 93 percent of families facing homelessness are Black. This startling statistic underscores the extensive history of racial oppression in the U.S.: slavery, Jim Crow laws, redlining, urban renewal policies, mass incarceration, and the deliberate exclusion of Black workers from wealth-building opportunities.

Goldstone correctly states that “Homelessness is not a ‘racial’ question.” This does not deny racial oppression but emphasizes that the primary cause of homelessness is class, not race. The higher impact on Black workers highlights how racism has historically been employed as a means of capitalist control, dividing the working class, justifying exploitation, and maintaining a hyper-exploited labor force.

The homelessness crisis impacts all parts of the working class. Hundreds of thousands of white, Latino, and Native American workers are also experiencing homelessness. The solution should not be a policy targeting specific races, but rather uniting the working class across racial boundaries in a shared fight against capitalism.

VI. The Historical Tradition of Muckraking and Its Limitsituates

Goldstone’s book belongs to the tradition of American investigative journalism, from Ida Tarbell to Upton Sinclair. This comparison fits well. Similar to Sinclair’s The Jungle, Goldstone’s work reveals the harsh truths of a system that prioritizes profit over human life. However, Sinclair famously said he aimed for the public’s heart but hit its stomach. His exposure of the meatpacking industry spurred regulatory reforms but did not challenge the fundamental capitalist structures behind the horrors he detailed.

Goldstone’s book risks the same destiny. While it may spark demands for reform, without connecting those efforts to a larger fight against the capitalist system, they will fall short. "The evidence Goldstone provides makes a compelling case against capitalism itself — even if Goldstone does not explicitly state that." This is the core truth. Goldstone’s work is a powerful critique of capitalism, even if he does not explicitly label it.

VII. The Political Tasks of the Working Class

The homelessness crisis cannot be resolved within a capitalist framework. Housing cannot serve as both a commodity and a human right. When housing is regarded solely as an asset, millions are barred from access. "The solution is not social housing within capitalism, but the expropriation of the financial oligarchy and the socialist reorganization of society based on human need." This statement is grounded in the evidence Goldstone presents, not mere rhetoric. The working class must gain control over the housing system, seize private equity firms profiting from homelessness, and reconstruct society around human needs instead of private profit.

This calls for a political movement separate from the Democratic Party, which is heavily intertwined with the real estate and financial industries. It also involves creating a socialist movement rooted in the working class, dedicated to overthrowing capitalism and establishing a government led by workers.

VIII. Conclusion: Thinking the Implications Through to the End

'There Is No Place for Us' stands as one of the most significant investigative journalism works of the decade. It reveals the harsh reality of homelessness in America and the exploitative system that sustains it. However, its political conclusions are confined to liberal reformism. The document calls on readers to “think through the implications to the end," a core aspect of Marxism: to uncover the objective logic behind social processes and identify political forces able to transform society. Goldstone has demonstrated that homelessness is not a failure of capitalism but a fundamental aspect of its functioning. The urgent task is to build a movement capable of abolishing the system that generates such suffering.

 

A Palace for the Oligarchy, a Porch for the Homeless: The Rutland Gate Mansion and the Rot of British Capitalism

The scene on Rutland Gate—a homeless man sleeping outside a £210 million empty mansion—is not just eccentric London lore. It represents the entire social system: a society in which the wealth of the global elite is fiercely guarded. At the same time, the basic needs of millions of people are viewed as an unacceptable burden on the “market.”

The Guardian’s report on 2–8A Rutland Gate unintentionally reveals what the ruling class and its media often try to hide: the housing crisis is not simply a technical issue or the result of a lack of construction. Instead, it is a consequence of capitalism turning housing into a speculative asset for the world’s wealthiest.[1]

The article highlights the stark contrast: “a homeless man with no money sleeping on the doorstep of a £200m house with 45 rooms that has been empty for years.” This is not an anomaly; it reflects the system's inherent logic.

The Mansion as Financial Instrument: London’s Role in the Global Oligarchy

Rutland Gate is more than just a residence; it's a vault, a safety deposit box, and a tradable asset within the portfolios of billionaires whose wealth stems from corruption, exploitation, and financial speculation. The ownership lineage—comprising Saudi royalty, Lebanese oligarchs, and Chinese property magnates—resembles a who's who of global capitalist misconduct. The mansion's acquisition was carried out via shell companies in the British Virgin Islands, a common method for laundering money and avoiding scrutiny. As noted, “Often, companies in tax or secrecy havens are used as the vehicle for these investments.”

London is the epicentre of this global network, known as the Alpha City, attracting the ultra-wealthy who regard it as both a playground and a refuge. Every British government, whether Tory or Labour, actively courts their presence. Yet the city’s housing stock is not primarily for residents; instead, it serves mainly as a speculative asset for international elites.

The numbers are striking: 47,000 homes owned by foreigners in London, over 300,000 long-term empty homes across England, and 268,000 second homes taken out of residential use. In Kensington & Chelsea, one in nine homes is unoccupied. This isn't a mistake but the deliberate result of a system in which societal needs are subordinated to the pursuit of profit.

The Human Being on the Porch: A Life Made Precarious by Capitalist Disintegration

The story of Anders Fernstedt, the man living on the porch, serves not just as a personal misfortune but also as a reflection of the systemic dismantling of social supports, the erosion of the welfare state, and the harshening of the working class.

Fernstedt’s experience—marked by unstable jobs, no-fault evictions, unsafe temporary housing, and rough sleeping—mirrors that of hundreds of thousands. His homelessness isn’t due to addiction or mental health problems; he insists he is "healthy... physically and mentally, with no addictions.”

His descent into homelessness was driven by the collapse of stable employment, the commodification of housing, the reduction of social services, and the violence and insecurity of Britain’s privatised rental market. His presence on the porch isn’t just symbolic—it’s diagnostic, exposing a society where the working class is pushed to the edge while the oligarchy enjoys luxury in empty mansions.

The Political Economy of Emptiness

The Guardian quotes a housing expert calling the situation “bizarre and perverse.” However, nothing about it is truly strange. It reflects a logical consequence of a system in which: housing is treated as a commodity rather than a right; the government prioritises capital over society; the wealthy are protected from scrutiny and taxes; local authorities lack sufficient funds and powers; and the market determines who has a home and who ends up homeless.

The article points out that “the places building the most housing have mysteriously managed to produce the highest level of vacancy.” This is not puzzling—developers tend to build what is profitable, not what is needed. Luxury towers are constructed because they serve as channels for global capital flows, not because Londoners need penthouses.

The ruling class claims that taxing or regulating the super-rich would “scare them away.” This argument has been repeatedly used to justify every form of social vandalism since the 1980s. It reflects an ideological stance of a political system entirely dominated by finance capital.

The State’s Role: Enabler, Not Regulator

The British government is not a neutral mediator; instead, it actively facilitates the accumulation of oligarchic wealth. It offers a legal system that maintains secrecy jurisdictions, a deregulated property market, police protection for elite enclaves, austerity measures that erode social housing, and political rhetoric that blames the poor for their poverty. The Levelling Up Act’s “empty homes premiums” are superficial solutions, as councils lack both the authority and funds to seize vacant properties. Meanwhile, billions of dollars' worth of public land have been sold to private developers, who construct luxury flats that remain unoccupied. Overall, the government's priorities are evident: safeguarding capital and penalizing low-income individuals.

A Social Order in Decay

The image of Rutland Gate is not just obscene; it is historically provocative. It brings to mind the final phases of collapsing social systems: aristocrats of the ancien régime, robber barons of the Gilded Age, and oligarchs of late Tsarist Russia. In each scenario, the ruling classes isolated themselves from the people's hardships, retreating into luxury while society fell apart. This process led not to stability but to revolution. 

The Socialist Perspective: Housing as a Social Right

The housing crisis cannot be addressed within a capitalist framework. Essential actions involve expropriating luxury properties left empty, abolishing offshore ownership arrangements, making substantial public investments in high-quality social housing, ensuring democratic control of urban planning by the working class, and reorganizing the economy along socialist lines focused on human needs.

Rutland Gate should not be a palace for billionaires. It should serve as a public asset, transformed into housing, community spaces, or social infrastructure. The resources are available, but what is missing is the political strength of the working class, organized independently from capitalist parties and advocating for a socialist agenda.

Conclusion: A System That Cannot Be Reformed

The Guardian article states the mansion will never become social housing, which is accurate—under capitalism. However, the stark inequality it illustrates is the key reason to challenge and overthrow the system that creates such disparities. The man on the porch and the mansion in the background are interconnected; they represent different facets of the same social structure. Addressing one without resolving the other is impossible.

 



[1] It was Britain's most expensive house. Why is its only resident a homeless man who lives on the porch? Sam Wollaston-www theguardian.com

The August Coup and the Collapse of the USSR: Robert Service’s Falsification and the Historical Truth of 1991

 

1. Introduction: The Manufacture of Historical Amnesia

For over thirty years, bourgeois historiography of the Soviet collapse has been dominated by a persistent myth: that the USSR's breakup symbolised the victory of “democracy” over “communism,” the triumph of liberal reformers over reactionary hardliners, and the ultimate failure of Marxism. This story—repeated tirelessly across works by Western scholars, Cold War propagandists, and former Stalinists—has become the ideological basis for the post-Soviet world. It has legitimised the theft of state assets, the suffering of millions, and Russia's shift into a mafia-driven petro-state controlled by oligarchs and security clans.

Robert Service is one of the most dishonest sources of this mythology, with his writings on the Russian Revolution, Stalinism, and the Soviet collapse repeatedly shown to be politically biased distortions. His book about the 1991 August coup exemplifies this, blending his known intellectual carelessness with a clear political goal: to erase the revolutionary legacy of the working class, to equate Stalinism with socialism, and to portray the capitalist restoration of the 1990s as an unavoidable and positive development in Soviet history.

This review aims not just to counter Service’s distortions but to reaffirm the historical facts of August 1991. It emphasises that the coup was a desperate move by a faction within the Stalinist bureaucracy, attempting to handle the crisis of a disintegrating Soviet Union under the pressures of capitalist restoration. It also clarifies that the so-called “democrats” were actually long-standing Stalinist officials aiming to turn their bureaucratic privileges into private ownership. Moreover, it highlights that the Soviet working class—the only social force capable of delivering a progressive solution—was politically incapacitated due to decades of Stalinist repression and the lack of revolutionary Marxist leadership.

The International Committee of the Fourth International (ICFI), uniquely among political groups, examined these events as they happened with precise scientific clarity. The disastrous results of the restorationist project have confirmed its warnings. To grasp August 1991 is to understand the complete collapse of Stalinism and the continued importance of Trotskyism.

2. Robert Service: A Historian in the Service of Reaction

Before analysing Service’s account of the coup, it is essential to consider his intellectual background. Service is not an unbiased scholar; he is a political actor whose work is shaped by strong anti-Marxist views and a firm dedication to Cold War anti-communism. His 2009 biography of Leon Trotsky faced significant criticism and was thoroughly discredited by professional historians.

Bertrand Patenaude, writing in the American Historical Review, criticised Service’s book for not meeting basic standards of historical scholarship, calling it “completely unreliable as a reference.” He identified over forty factual errors, misquoted sources, and significant distortions. David North’s In Defence of Leon Trotsky further scrutinised Service’s methods, revealing that his work resulted not just from incompetence but from intentional falsification.

At a London book launch, Service proudly claimed he aimed to “kill off” Trotsky as a historical figure—an extraordinary confession that exposes the political bias behind his scholarship. This reveals the intellectual background of the man now attempting to interpret the August coup. A historian who fabricates evidence is unreliable. One who openly states they want to ruin a revolutionary leader’s reputation cannot be regarded as a credible Soviet history scholar. The service’s work is more propaganda than history.

3. The Myth of “Communism vs Democracy”: A Bourgeois Fairy Tale

The core argument asserts that the August coup was a conflict between “hardline communists” and “democratic reformers.” This is the fundamental falsehood of his story. It is a falsehood widely believed by Western governments, capitalist media, and the pseudo-left intelligentsia. This lie has been exploited to justify the social disaster faced by the people of the former USSR.

The ICFI warned against this deception while the coup was happening. In its August 21, 1991, statement, it declared: “The Stalinist gangsters who organised the putsch do not represent Marxism and socialism any more than George Bush, an ally of Yeltsin and Gorbachev, represents democracy.”

This statement is the clearest and most accurate summary of the coup ever written. The eight conspirators who established the State Committee for the Emergency were not Marxists, nor defenders of socialism. They weren't even “hardliners” in any true sense. All of them had been appointed to top positions in the Soviet government by Gorbachev, the architect of perestroika. Their initial public statements explicitly supported “private enterprise,” “diverse forms of property,” and ongoing “profound reforms.” The coup was not an attempt to halt capitalist restoration. It was an attempt to control it.

4. The Bureaucracy in Crisis: Trotsky’s Analysis Vindicated

To grasp the nature of the coup, it is essential to start with Trotsky’s critique of the Stalinist bureaucracy. In The Revolution Betrayed (1936), Trotsky characterised the bureaucracy as a parasitic class that seized political power from the working class, despite relying on the foundations of the nationalised economy. He cautioned that unless the working class wages a political revolution to overthrow the bureaucracy, it would ultimately reestablish capitalism to preserve its privileges through private property. This exact process took place from 1985 to 1991.

Gorbachev’s glasnost and perestroika were not reforms oriented towards democratizing socialism. Instead, they reflected the bureaucracy’s aim to re-integrate the Soviet economy into the global capitalist market. The bureaucracy intended to evolve into a new bourgeois class. The coup was actually a power struggle within this bureaucracy over how quickly and by what means to restore capitalism, rather than a clash between socialism and capitalism. This essential truth is often hidden because recognising it would mean accepting Trotsky’s analysis and the political legitimacy of the Fourth International.

5. Yeltsin: The Ex‑Stalinist Turned Bourgeois Demagogue

The portrayal of Boris Yeltsin as a “brave but flawed democrat” in the Service’s account is among the most grotesque distortions in his book. Yeltsin was neither a democrat nor a reformer. He was a longtime Stalinist official who spent 35 years within the Communist Party. He joined the Party at the very moment the Kremlin was quashing the workers’ uprising at Novocherkassk. He backed the suppression of Hungary in 1956 and Poland in 1981. His unwavering loyalty to the bureaucracy fueled his rise through the ranks.

Yeltsin’s later shift to “democracy” was essentially a political move by a bureaucrat seeking personal gain. He became the figurehead for the greed-driven factions within the bureaucracy—those eager to loot state resources through “shock therapy,” widespread privatisation, and dismantling social safeguards. The social impact under Yeltsin was disastrous: GDP dropped over 40%, life expectancy declined by almost ten years, millions fell into poverty, and a new oligarch class took control of the economy. This outcome was deliberate, not accidental, reflecting the goals of the restorationist agenda.

6. The Working Class: The Invisible Subject of Bourgeois History

The service’s account notably omits the Soviet working class entirely. He views history as primarily shaped by bureaucrats, politicians, and intellectuals, relegating the masses to a passive role. This isn’t an oversight but a deliberate political stance. In reality, the working class was the key social force influencing the coup’s outcome. The coup plotters feared not Gorbachev or Yeltsin but the potential for workers, outraged by deteriorating living standards, shortages, and the decline of the planned economy, to rise. The military and KGB leaders recognised that any Tiananmen-style crackdown could ignite a nationwide rebellion.

The coup failed not due to Yeltsin’s dramatic act on the tank, but because the bureaucracy feared the working class. The ICFI stated at the time that the military leaders “were terrified that any bloody confrontation would trigger a massive reaction from the Soviet working class, leading millions to protest." This critical fact is what Service omits.

7. The Aftermath: The Catastrophe of Capitalist Restoration

The coup's collapse accelerated the disintegration of the Soviet Union, which officially ended within four months. The consequences were disastrous: industrial output dropped sharply, social services collapsed, crime and corruption increased, and nationalist conflicts emerged across the former USSR. Tens of millions suffered from hunger, unemployment, and early death. The Service views these results as unfortunate but inevitable. In reality, they stem directly from the policies carried out by the “democrats” they commend. The ICFI cautioned in 1991 that the fall of Stalinism would not bring democracy but instead lead to “even more brutal forms of repression and social devastation.” Every subsequent event has confirmed this warning.

8. The Political Meaning of Service’s Falsification

Why does Service distort facts? Why does he manipulate history? Why does he hide the role of the working class and the true nature of the bureaucracy? Because the truth of 1991 reveals the failure of the entire bourgeois narrative about the Soviet collapse. It shows that: Stalinism was not socialism. The bureaucracy was not Marxist. The return to capitalism was not democratic. The working class was the key social force. Trotsky's analysis was accurate. The Fourth International was the only political movement that truly understood the historical process.

Recognising these truths would mean acknowledging the revolutionary importance of Marxism and the current relevance of Trotskyism. Service’s distortions cater to the political interests of the ruling class: they aim to discredit socialism, justify capitalism’s resurgence, and hinder the working class from learning the essential lessons of history.

9. Conclusion: The Historical Truth of August 1991

The true history of the August coup differs from Robert Service's account. It reveals a bureaucracy in a terminal crisis, a working class that was betrayed and left politically powerless, and a revolutionary movement—the Fourth International—that alone offered a scientific analysis of the events as they unfolded. The collapse of the USSR was not a failure of Marxism but the ultimate bankruptcy of Stalinism. It was the outcome Trotsky warned about in 1936, resulting from the bureaucracy’s nationalist betrayal of internationalism and its efforts to restore capitalism.

APPENDIX — The “Totalitarian School” as Ideology: A Trotskyist Polemic Against Conquest, Pipes, Service, and Applebaum

I. Introduction: The Manufacture of Anti‑Communist Orthodoxy

The so-called “totalitarian school” of Soviet historiography—mainly associated with scholars such as Robert Conquest, Richard Pipes, Robert Service, and Anne Applebaum—has held sway in both academic and popular discussions of the Russian Revolution, Stalinism, and the USSR's fall for over fifty years. Its core argument is straightforward and politically convenient: it claims Bolshevism inevitably results in Stalinism, views Marxism as intrinsically totalitarian, and asserts that the atrocities committed by Stalin's regime are a natural and unavoidable consequence of the October Revolution.

This institution does not embody a scholarly tradition; instead, it functions as an ideological instrument. Its aim is not to study history objectively but to undermine socialism, portray revolution as tyranny, and intellectually support capitalist triumphs. It serves as the historiographical equivalent of the Cold War, acting as the academic arm of the CIA’s cultural operations, and provides the theoretical basis for the post-1991 view that the fall of the USSR marked the “end of history.”

The totalitarian school is bound together not by their methods but by their political purpose. Their approaches vary—ranging from Conquest’s straightforward propaganda and Pipes’s reactionary aristocratic stance to Service’s pseudo-academic carelessness and Applebaum’s moralistic sermons—but they all aim to erase the revolutionary legacy of the working class. This appendix reveals the intellectual emptiness of this school of thought and reaffirms the Marxist interpretation of the Soviet experience.

II. Robert Conquest: The CIA’s Court Historian

Robert Conquest’s reputation is built on two main works: *The Great Terror* (1968) and *The Harvest of Sorrow* (1986). Western governments and media lauded these books as authoritative accounts of Stalinist repression. However, both relied on sources such as hearsay, émigré gossip, unverified claims, Cold War intelligence data, deliberate exaggerations, and political fabrications. Conquest was an employee of the Information Research Department (IRD), a secret propaganda organisation within the British Foreign Office that worked closely with the CIA. His role involved creating anti-communist content for dissemination among journalists, scholars, and policymakers. Essentially, *The Great Terror* was an IRD-backed project.

Conquest’s method was clear: assume guilt, inflate statistics, ignore conflicting evidence, and depict Stalinism as an inevitable outcome of Marxism. His writings aimed to weaponise history rather than understand the Soviet Union. Even some bourgeois historians have recognised Conquest’s unreliability. After Soviet archives opened in the 1990s, many of his claims were quietly dropped. Nonetheless, his work still serves a political purpose: to equate Bolshevism with mass murder. From a Marxist perspective, Conquest’s work holds no value. It functions as propaganda camouflaged as scholarship.

III. Richard Pipes: The Aristocrat of Reaction

If Conquest served as the CIA’s propagandist, Richard Pipes was the ideological voice of the American ruling elite. His hostility toward the Russian Revolution was deeply emotional, not just scholarly. He saw the Revolution as a crime against civilisation, erasing a natural social order in which the masses knew their roles. Pipe’s main argument—that Bolshevism was a criminal conspiracy forced upon an unwilling populace—is rooted in a strong disdain for the working class. He rejected the idea of revolutionary consciousness, dismissed the material conditions that led to the Revolution, and depicted Lenin as a demonic manipulator. His work is marked by explicit class hatred, methodological dishonesty, selective use of sources, refusal to engage with Marxist theory, and preconceived conclusions.

His assertion that the Soviet Union was “totalitarian from birth” is more a political statement than a historical argument. It blurs the line between the revolutionary era (1917–23) and the Stalinist counterrevolution, ignoring the crucial role played by the bureaucracy. Pipes’s scholarship exemplifies a social type: the anxious bourgeois who perceives every strike, uprising, or threat to property relations as a sign of chaos and barbarism. His historical approach serves as an academic reaction.

IV. Robert Service: The Falsifier as Historian

Robert Service exemplifies the decline of the totalitarian school into sloppiness, fabrication, and blatant political hostility. His biographies of Lenin, Stalin, and Trotsky have repeatedly been found to contain numerous errors, distortions, and fabricated quotations. Bertrand Patenaude’s review of Service’s Trotsky biography in the American Historical Review stated that the book “fails to meet basic standards of historical scholarship” and is “completely unreliable as a reference.” Additionally, David North’s In Defence of Leon Trotsky identified numerous falsifications.

The service’s approach is not only careless but also intentionally dishonest. He analyses history with a political aim: to undermine Marxism by attacking its top figures. His claim to want to “kill off” Trotsky as a historical figure reveals the hostility behind his work. His discussion of the August 1991 coup continues this pattern: he hides the class basis of the bureaucracy, omits the working class, and depicts capitalist restoration as a victory for democracy. Overall, his work is more of an ideological attack supporting the ruling class than genuine history.

V. Anne Applebaum: Moralism Without History

Anne Applebaum exemplifies the newest form of totalitarian thought: a liberal-imperialist moralist who replaces careful analysis with emotional outrage. Her books—Gulag (2003) and Red Famine (2017)—are aimed more at condemnation than understanding. Her approach is marked by moral absolutism, selective use of evidence, conflating Stalinism with socialism, ignoring class forces, simplifying narratives, and celebrating Cold War victories. Her work targets a broad audience and acts as ideological support for Western foreign policy, depicting the Soviet Union as exceptionally evil, portraying the West as the symbol of freedom, and viewing the USSR’s collapse as civilisation’s triumph.

Applebaum’s approach is the antithesis of Marxism. She treats history as a morality play, not a process driven by social forces. She reduces complex historical phenomena to the psychology of evil men. She erases the working class. Her work is more of a sermon than a scholarship.

The totalitarian school is based on four key assumptions, all of which are incorrect: 1. Bolshevism necessarily leads to Stalinism. However, evidence shows this is false—Stalinism was a political counterrevolution against October, not its continuation. 2. The Soviet Union was “totalitarian from the start." This confuses a revolutionary workers’ state with a bureaucratically degenerated one. 3. Marxism is inherently authoritarian, which overlooks its democratic principles and emphasis on workers’ self-emancipation. 4. The fall of the USSR indicates that socialism has failed.

In truth, this demonstrates Stalinism's failure, which Trotsky foresaw would result in capitalist restoration. The totalitarian perspective fails to account for the rise of the bureaucracy, the purges, the contradictions within the planned economy, the crisis of the 1980s, the restoration of capitalism, and the social catastrophe of the 1990s. It cannot explain these phenomena because it denies the existence of class forces, material contradictions, and historical development. Instead, it functions as an anti-theory—a political narrative that pretends to be scholarly.

VII. The Marxist Alternative: Trotskyism as Scientific Historiography

The Marxist analysis, developed by Trotsky and upheld by the ICFI, challenges the totalitarian school. It differentiates between socialism and Stalinism, describes the bureaucracy as a social caste, places the USSR within the global economy, highlights the contradictions of the planned economy, predicts the bureaucracy’s shift toward restoration, and interprets the USSR's collapse as a political, not economic, inevitability. Trotskyism offers a scientific understanding of the Soviet experience that the totalitarian school lacks.

Where Conquest, Pipes, Service, and Applebaum view evil, conspiracy, or pathology as fixed threats, Marxism interprets them as social forces, driven by historical necessity and class struggle. While they consider the “end of history" as the conclusion of ideological conflict, Marxism perceives it as a threshold to a new era of global crisis and revolutionary potential.

VIII. Conclusion: The Political Function of the Totalitarian School

The totalitarian school persists not because it explains history, but because it maintains power. It offers ideological backing for capitalist restoration, imperialist actions, anti-communist messaging, and the silencing of workers' movements. Its purpose is to block the working class from understanding its own history. Destroying this school is more than an academic pursuit; it’s a political necessity. The working class must recover its revolutionary heritage, which figures such as Conquest, Pipes, Service, and Applebaum have sought to erase. The false narrators will not be the ones to tell the truth about the Soviet experience of the totalitarian school. Instead, it will be narrated from the perspective of the Fourth International.