Howard Zinn and the Limits of Moral Radicalism: A Marxist Critique of American Historical Consciousness

The current crisis in American capitalism highlights a growing global challenge: social inequality has reached unprecedented heights, with wealth heavily concentrated in the hands of a small oligarchy, undermining democratic legitimacy. Meanwhile, militarism, authoritarianism, and the erosion of civil liberties are on the rise, and social cohesion is breaking down. Despite increased global economic integration, these issues are complex and cannot be solved by any single national ruling class.¹

In these conditions, grasping history becomes highly politically significant. The working class, driven into conflict by capitalist realities, confronts immediate issues of exploitation and oppression, as well as the ideological remnants of the past. The persistent leadership crisis in the global working class is closely tied to a wider crisis of historical consciousness.²

The ongoing popularity of Howard Zinn’s A People’s History of the United States should be understood in this context. For many, particularly young people encountering radical ideas for the first time, Zinn’s book provides an essential entry point for critically analysing American history. It exposes the violence of colonial expansion, the brutality of slavery, the suppression of labour movements, and the imperialist tendencies in foreign policy.³

These contributions are meaningful, showing a widespread desire to understand their world and pursue social change. However, Zinn’s popularity also exposes the limits of radicalism that dismiss Marxism’s scientific principles. Today’s crises require more than just outrage—they need clarity; more than just exposing issues—they need explanations; and beyond simple resistance, we need effective strategies.⁴

Howard Zinn and the Appeal of Moral Radicalism

Howard Zinn’s work connects deeply because it highlights a key truth: neutrality cannot exist in a society divided by exploitation and oppression. “In a world riven by class conflict, war, and exploitation, the pretence of neutrality is itself a political position.”⁵ This idea, which Zinn encapsulated in his memoir title You Can’t Be Neutral on a Moving Train, reflects the moral necessity felt by many who oppose modern injustices.

Zinn’s historical narrative centres on a clear dichotomy: “resistance” versus “control.' The oppressed—comprising workers, enslaved individuals, women, Indigenous communities, and antiwar advocates—stand on one side. The other side features powerful corporations, governments, militaries, and elites. According to Zinn, history is a chronicle of the ongoing conflict between these opposing forces.⁶

This framework appeals emotionally by affirming the dignity of the oppressed and emphasising ordinary people's agency. It also questions the complacency of official narratives. However, this moral clarity has limitations. Zinn’s binary of “resistance” versus “control” cannot replace a scientific analysis of society. It fails to explain the root causes of oppression, how it persists, or which social forces can end it.⁷

Zinn’s history features heroes and villains rather than classes and their conflicting interests. It tells a story of moral outrage instead of offering a materialist analysis of capitalism’s workings.⁸

The Philosophical Roots of Zinn’s Method: From Feuerbach to the New Left

To understand the limitations of Zinn’s method, one must explore its philosophical origins. His approach is not Marxist; instead, it aligns more with Engels' description of Feuerbach’s “old materialism." This form of materialism acknowledges an external world but does not fully grasp the dialectical connection between social being and social consciousness.⁹

Feuerbach’s materialism was mainly contemplative, aiming to describe the world rather than analyse its internal contradictions or transformative forces. It categorised historical figures as noble or ignoble, oppressed or oppressors, without examining the social relations that created these distinctions.¹⁰

Zinn’s approach reflects these constraints. His history mainly records moral struggles rather than offering a scientific view of how society develops. While he notes oppression, he does not explore the mechanisms that create it. He also documents acts of resistance but overlooks the conditions that turn resistance into revolutionary change.¹¹

This approach situates Zinn within the broader context of the American New Left, which emerged in the 1960s as a critique of American imperialism's crimes and the Soviet Union's bureaucratic decline. The New Left rejected Marxism not due to a comprehensive refutation, but because it linked Marxism to Stalinist regimes that falsely represented it.¹²

The outcome was a political stance emphasising personal authenticity, local activism, and spontaneous resistance, while dismissing the necessity for a revolutionary party, a scientific analysis of capitalism, or a strategic focus on the working class.¹³

The New Left and the Eclipse of Marxism

The rise of the New Left in the late 1950s and 1960s responded to deep contradictions within American and global capitalism. Although the postwar boom temporarily stabilised the capitalist system, its limitations started to emerge. The civil rights movement highlighted the cruelty of racial injustice, while the Vietnam War exposed the imperialist core of American foreign policy. Additionally, the Soviet Union's bureaucratic decline discredited the Stalinist assertion that it represented socialism. Consequently, a new wave of students and intellectuals pursued radical alternatives.

Despite its energy and moral fervour, the New Left struggled to craft a clear revolutionary strategy. Its opposition to Marxism, dismissal of the working class as the driver of history, and eclectic philosophical influences left it politically powerless. Instead of resolving the crisis of American radicalism, it embodied it.

The failure of the New Left was intentional, stemming from its class makeup, ideological roots, and political stance. It was driven by a segment of the middle class—students, academics, and professionals—who were truly dissatisfied with the current system. However, their social standing inclined them more toward moral protest than revolutionary change.

The legacy of the New Left still influences today's political discussions. Its focus on identity, culture, and personal authenticity, along with its scepticism of class analysis, hostility to revolutionary parties, and celebration of spontaneity, remains evident in different forms. Recognising the New Left is crucial to understanding the ideological barriers currently facing the working class.

The Philosophical Foundations: From Existentialism to Post‑Marxism

The New Left’s rejection of Marxism was driven more by the intellectual trends of the postwar era—such as existentialism, pragmatism, and neo-Kantianism—than by a deep engagement with Marxist ideas. These philosophies focused on individual experience, moral decision-making, and personal authenticity, dismissing the notion that objective laws govern history or that social classes have fixed roles.

This intellectual environment led the New Left to see Marxism as deterministic, authoritarian, or obsolete. The atrocities committed by Stalinist regimes, wrongly portrayed as the natural result of Marxist ideas, strengthened this view. Consequently, the New Left lumped Marxism together with Stalinism, dismissing both without making a clear distinction.

Instead of historical materialism, the New Left adopted a moralistic and voluntarist view of politics. They believed social change resulted from individual dedication, grassroots activism, and spontaneous protests. The working class was regarded not as a revolutionary force but as a conservative one, corrupted by consumerism or absorbed into the system.

This philosophical stance had significant political implications. It caused the New Left to underestimate the structural strength of the capitalist state, overvalue the transformative power of student movements, and dismiss the need for a revolutionary party. It shifted focus from strategic planning to symbolic acts, from careful analysis to indignation, and from organised effort to spontaneous action.

The Class Basis of the New Left

The ideological tendencies of the New Left mirrored its class makeup. It mainly arose among students and intellectuals rather than industrial workers. Its prominent leaders were from the middle class, which has a complex relationship with capitalism — oppressed by it yet reliant on it. While the middle class criticises the system, it also fears revolutionary upheaval.

This ambivalence influenced the politics of the New Left, which moved between harsh critiques of capitalism and calls for reform. It dismissed the working class as the revolutionary agent but did not propose an alternative social force. Instead, it focused on personal authenticity, lifestyle choices, and cultural rebellion—protests that voice dissatisfaction without challenging the core of capitalist power.

The New Left’s focus on class also sheds light on its opposition to the revolutionary party. In the Marxist view, the party represents the structured expression of the working class’s collective interests, demanding discipline, clear theory, and strategic focus. Such qualities clashed with the movement’s roots in middle-class individualism and anti-authoritarian principles.

The New Left’s suspicion of organisation was not a rejection of bureaucracy but a reflection of its own social position. It rejected the discipline of the working class while reproducing, in its own structures, the informal hierarchies and charismatic leadership typical of middle‑class movements.

The New Left and the Question of the Working Class

The primary limitation of the New Left was its denial of the working class as the true agent of revolutionary change. This denial was rationalised through various arguments, such as the belief that the working class was “bought off” by consumerist culture, integrated into the existing system, or made conservative by the welfare state. However, these claims were rooted more in ideological bias than in factual analysis.

The working class, rather than becoming part of the system, continued to be exploited. Its labour kept generating societal wealth. Its efforts—ranging from the mass strikes of the 1960s and 1970s to the current global wave of labour unrest—showed its ability for collective action. However, the New Left, unable to see beyond its own class perspective, failed to recognise this potential.

The New Left’s rejection of the working class led it to seek alternative agents of change: students, peasants, guerrilla movements, and marginalised groups. These forces played important roles in various struggles, but none possessed the structural power of the working class. The New Left’s search for substitutes reflected its inability to grasp the material foundations of revolutionary politics.

The consequences were severe. The New Left movements, disconnected from the working class, could be easily isolated, suppressed, or absorbed. Their wins were only partial and short-lived, while their losses were significant. Without revolutionary leadership, the working class stayed politically confused.

The New Left and the State: The Illusion of Spontaneity

The New Left’s rejection of Marxism led to an underestimation of the power of the capitalist state. It viewed the state not as a means of maintaining class control but as a neutral arena that protests could influence. It was thought that spontaneous protests, moral appeals, or cultural movements could bring societal change without directly confronting the dominant power of capital.

This illusion was repeatedly broken. The civil rights movement, though morally compelling, encountered violent suppression. Despite large-scale protests, the antiwar movement failed to stop imperialist actions. Police and military units suppressed student protests. Time and again, the state proved it would use violence to protect capitalist interests.

The New Left’s inability to grasp the nature of the state stemmed from its rejection of Marxism. According to Marxism, the state isn't a neutral body; it represents the organised power of the ruling class. Reforming it isn't possible through moral appeals or spontaneous protests. Instead, it requires a revolutionary working-class movement organised in a party capable of challenging capitalist dominance.

The New Left’s misconceptions about the state caused it to overlook the importance of organisation, strategy, and leadership. It confused spontaneity with strength and moral passion with real influence, ultimately leading to political ineffectiveness.

The Legacy of the New Left: Identity, Culture, and the Eclipse of Class

The influence of the New Left persisted beyond its political fall. Its concepts were integrated into academia, media, and cultural institutions. The focus on identity, culture, and personal experience gained prominence in numerous intellectual communities. Additionally, its scepticism towards class analysis and opposition to Marxism influenced the evolution of postmodernism, post-Marxism, and various identity politics movements.

These tendencies have severely harmed modern political dialogue. They divide the working class into conflicting identities, hide the fundamental capitalist structures, and replace the pursuit of universal emancipation with specific demands. The focus shifts from labour exploitation to recognition politics, and from fighting capitalism to overseeing diversity.

The legacy of the New Left thus fosters ideological confusion among the working class. It provides moral critique lacking material analysis, promotes cultural rebellion without strategic political plans, and emphasises identity-based grievances without proposing a universal emancipatory project. Consequently, it strengthens the fragmentation that capitalism depends on to sustain its dominance.

The Political Consequences: Radicalism Without Strategy

The shortcomings of Zinn’s approach are most clear when considering his political conclusions. For decades, Zinn highlighted the brutality of American capitalism, the hypocrisy of its ruling classes, and the ways dissent is co-opted and subdued. He stated that elections function “to consolidate the system after years of protest and rebellion.”¹⁴

However, when faced with the political crises of his era, Zinn often relied on the very institutions he had long critiqued. He believed in the moral transformation of individuals over the organised influence of the working class .¹⁵

This contradiction was not due to personal weakness. It stems from a politics that replaces class analysis with moral sentiment. Without a scientific grasp of capitalism, a theory of the state, or a view of the working class as the agent of revolutionary change, radicalism naturally falls into compromise.¹⁶

The history of American radicalism is full of such cases, where movements starting with protests against injustice eventually come to accept the current system .¹⁷

The Historical Function of Liberalism and the Co-Option of Social Movements

Throughout American history, liberalism has been key to maintaining capitalist dominance. It claims to defend democracy, push for reforms, and offer a rational alternative to extremism. However, its true role is to direct social unrest into controlled channels, absorb and neutralise opposition, and uphold the core elements of this dynamic that Zinn understood, documenting how liberal institutions have absorbed social movements. However, his distancing from Marxism prevented him from making essential strategic conclusions. While he acknowledged liberalism's failures, he did not recognise its underlying class foundation.²⁰ Without a Marxist analysis of liberalism, Zinn’s critique remained moral rather than material.²¹

The Marxist Conception of History and the Role of the Working Class

Marxism starts from a fundamentally different basis than Zinn’s moral radicalism. It does not separate history into the noble and the ignoble, the oppressed and the oppressors. Instead, it examines society through the lens of classes, defined by their relationship to the means of production.

According to Marxism, the working class isn't just another oppressed group; it serves as the revolutionary force in history because its role within capitalism gives it both a natural interest and the capacity to overthrow the system. ²³

Society's transformation relies not on individual moral awakening, sudden acts of resistance, or guards disobeying orders. Instead, it depends on a deliberate, organised, international struggle led by a revolutionary party that understands the scientific laws governing capitalism.²⁴ This perspective is absent from Zinn’s work.²⁵

The Strategic Tasks of the Present Period

The crisis of global capitalism calls for more than just moral outrage; it necessitates a scientific grasp of the world and a revolutionary plan for change. The working class is beginning to engage in a global struggle.²⁶

But the crisis of leadership remains. The working class cannot spontaneously generate the consciousness required to overthrow capitalism. It requires a revolutionary party rooted in Marxism, armed with an understanding of history, and committed to the international unity of the working class.²⁷

Zinn’s approach is limited by its moralist stance, absence of class analysis, rejection of Marxism, and lack of strategy, making it unable to provide effective leadership.²⁸

Neutrality is unattainable. However, moralism alone cannot suffice. The world is swiftly heading toward either disaster or upheaval. ²⁹

Argumentative Footnotes

1. Marx’s analysis of capitalism’s contradictions remains the essential starting point for understanding contemporary crises.
2. Trotsky repeatedly emphasised that the crisis of humanity is the crisis of revolutionary leadership.
3. Zinn’s narrative is strongest where it exposes the violence of American expansion.
4. Moral outrage, without scientific analysis, cannot guide revolutionary practice.
5. Zinn’s phrase captures a truth long understood by Marxists.
6. This binary structure is central to A People’s History.
7. Zinn’s framework lacks a theory of the state.
8. Historical materialism is replaced by moral dualism.
9. Engels, Ludwig Feuerbach and the End of Classical German Philosophy.
10. Feuerbach’s contemplative materialism is a precursor to Zinn’s method.
11. Zinn documents but does not explain.
12. The New Left’s rejection of Marxism was rooted in confusion about Stalinism.
13. Spontaneity was elevated above organisation.
14. Zinn’s critique of elections is accurate but incomplete.
15. This reflects the limits of moral radicalism.
16. Without class analysis, radicalism collapses into liberalism.
17. The pattern recurs throughout U.S. history.
18. Liberalism stabilises capitalist rule by absorbing dissent.
19. Zinn’s historical examples are compelling but partial.
20. Liberalism’s class basis is essential to understanding its function.
21. Moral critique cannot substitute for material analysis.
22. Marx, Preface to A Contribution to the Critique of Political Economy.
23. The working class is the only revolutionary class.
24. Trotsky, The Transitional Program.
25. Zinn never articulates the revolutionary role of the proletariat.
26. Objective conditions for struggle are emerging globally.
27. Consciousness must be developed through a revolutionary party.
28. Zinn’s framework cannot provide strategic leadership.
29. The decisive question is the intervention of the working class.

 

Booksmaxxing and the Cultural Bankruptcy of the Upper Middle Class

The Guardian and similar liberal-bourgeois outlets celebrate “booksmaxxing,” but this isn’t a sign of a cultural revival. Instead, it reveals the deep decline of bourgeois culture under late capitalism. The term—borrowed from the pseudo-Darwinian language of online manosphere self-optimisation—highlights the social forces at play. As noted, it reduces reading to “another tool for building one’s personal brand… another aesthetic marker to be curated on BookTok, Instagram, or Goodreads.”

This is not a revival of reading. Instead, it represents the commercialisation of reading at its peak—transforming intellectual engagement into a social media spectacle. The book serves as a prop; the reader becomes a self-promoter; and culture morphs into a marketplace of carefully crafted identities.

The Guardian’s enthusiasm for this trend is predictable, reflecting a privileged class whose view of culture is shaped by consumerism and fears of maintaining social status. Their claim that reading is now "sexy" signals not cultural vitality but its decline, highlighting a lack of genuine engagement with art, history, or social issues.

The publishing industry has historically moved away from representing the experiences of the working class. James McDonald’s question—“Where is our Zola?”—is genuine, highlighting a structural truth: the industry is dominated by the upper-middle class, whose preferences and ideological interests shape what gets published, promoted, and celebrated.

The popular genres—romance, YA fantasy, mystery/thriller—are no coincidence. They reflect a social group focused inward, fixated on identity, self-expression, and escapism. In contrast, literary fiction that engages with social issues is considered the least important, as the document notes.

This creates a disturbing scenario in which the lives of hundreds of millions of workers—such as warehouse staff, nurses, delivery drivers, teachers, and cleaners—are rendered invisible within the cultural domain. The “booksmaxxing” bookshelf serves as a showcase of upper-middle-class narcissism, presenting a curated display of aestheticised consumption.

Cultural Decay and the Crisis of Bourgeois Society

Marxists maintain that the cultural crisis is fundamentally connected to the capitalist crisis. David Walsh highlights a core contradiction: despite the existence of conditions conducive to a vibrant global artistic culture, capitalism's social relations hinder its growth. As Leon Trotsky notes, the decline of bourgeois society intensifies social contradictions, creating a pressing demand for liberating art. However, this demand is not fulfilled by today's cultural institutions, which instead suppress it through layers of identity-based censorship, market-driven infantilization, and the ongoing commodification of all human activities.

Booksmaxxing isn't a departure from this process; instead, it represents its outcome. It substitutes authentic intellectual engagement for a shallow show, trading real comprehension for the mere act of reading. 

Self-Optimisation Ideology and the Policing of Culture

The “-maxxing” suffix is more than a meme; it represents the mindset of hustle culture, integrating market principles into personal beliefs. Reading is viewed as a way to build cultural capital, providing a competitive edge in pursuing career and social achievements.

This ideology explains the emergence of “sensitivity readers," who are more accurately described as “DEI inquisitors.” Their role isn't to safeguard readers but to oversee cultural matters in favour of the upper-middle class, enforcing the principles of identity politics and limiting literature to narrow notions of personal authenticity and “lived experience.”

The result is a restrictive atmosphere where artists are told to “stay in their lane,” and attempting to depict social realities beyond their identity group is considered morally wrong. This approach does not signify progress; rather, it results in the fragmentation and depoliticisation of culture, turning art into a series of identity-centred performances.

The Working Class and the Necessity of Cultural Renewal

In this context, the working class requires authentic culture instead of the commercialized copies provided by the upper-middle class. They desire art that directly addresses social issues, pays tribute to ordinary people's lives, and includes—quoting Trotsky—“an element of protest against intolerable conditions.”

This culture cannot emerge from TikTok trends, marketing campaigns, or the self-made rituals of the professional-managerial class. Instead, it can only be cultivated by revitalizing the socialist movement and re-establishing the connection between artistic creation and workers' struggles. The great realist tradition—embodied by Zola, Dickens, Tolstoy, Dreiser, Steinbeck—did not develop spontaneously. It was driven by the growth of the international workers’ movement and the belief that society is understandable and subject to change. Rebuilding this movement is crucial for a genuine cultural revival.

Conclusion

Booksmaxxing does not signify a cultural awakening but instead indicates cultural exhaustion. It exposes the narcissism, insecurity, and ideological emptiness of the upper-middle class, whose dominance over cultural institutions has led to a landscape characterized by triviality, censorship, and self-branding.

The working class holds the duty of cultural renewal, not influencers, publishers, or liberal newspapers. Humanity can develop a new, sincere, and freeing culture solely through the creation of a revolutionary socialist movement.

 

Royal Mail’s £200 Million “Sickness Crisis”: A Manufactured Narrative to Conceal the Human Cost of Corporate Restructuring

The corporate media’s portrayal of Royal Mail’s sickness absence bill as a burden caused by postal workers is a political deception. In reality, the workforce carries the true burden, as their health deteriorates under a restructuring plan pushed by billionaire Daniel Křetínský, with backing from the Labour government and the CWU bureaucracy.

A media narrative built on inversion and deceit

A recent British headline claims that Royal Mail faces a £200 million “sickness bill,” illustrating how Britain's corporate media often serves as a tool for big business interests. The headline portrays sickness absence as a cost imposed by employees, neglecting to recognise it as a consequence of restructuring that harms workers’ health and well-being. The article on 1st Class Chat suggests that postal workers are irresponsibly draining resources. Still, in reality, the sickness figure highlights the human toll of a harsh restructuring that damages workers' health.[1]

This inversion—depicting victims of exploitation as the cause—is intentional. It serves as a calculated ideological strategy to sway public opinion and pave the way for more assaults on the workforce.

The real cause of sickness: impossible workloads and unsafe conditions

The WSWS and the Postal Workers Rank-and-File Committee (PWRFC) have thoroughly documented the conditions that have led to rising sickness rates across Royal Mail. Owned by billionaire Daniel Křetínský’s EP Group—and approved by the Starmer Labour government—Royal Mail is increasingly becoming a low-wage parcel courier similar to Amazon.

The main focus of this change is the Optimised Delivery Model (ODM), which was first trialled at 35 delivery offices and is now being implemented nationwide. The document states that ODM imposes “impossible productivity targets, removes safety protocols like bag weight limits, and has used heart monitors to gauge how much delivery workers can be pushed." Workers describe experiencing extreme exhaustion that makes completing shifts physically impossible; chronic understaffing caused by management’s bans on overtime; rising injuries, burnout, and stress; and such high turnover that offices remain in a constant state of crisis.

A worker at Sheffield’s Woodseats office told the WSWS: “The daily workload is impossible to complete within the shift ... High staff turnover and sickness are common.” These aren't isolated cases but are expected outcomes of a restructuring approach aimed at maximising labour from a declining workforce.

The sickness bill is a cost of exploitation, not worker malingering.

The £200 million sickness figure is not a cost workers have imposed on management; rather, it's a cost management has imposed on workers due to health issues, chronic stress, and physical exhaustion. The document clearly states: “The £200 million figure is not a bill that workers have handed to management—it is a bill that management has handed to workers, in the form of The cost of Křetínský’s efforts to reduce expenses by £425 million includes destroyed health, chronic stress, and physical breakdown. This approach involves weakening the Universal Service Obligation and establishing a two-tier workforce in which new employees earn just above the minimum wage. The media remains eerily silent when workers die; for example, four deaths over two years at a USPS facility in Palmetto, Georgia, went unreported. However, when workers suffer from severe illnesses caused by unmanageable workloads, the media quickly responds—yet often places blame on the victims.

The CWU bureaucracy: indispensable partners in the restructuring

The leadership of the Communication Workers Union (CWU), led by Dave Ward and Martin Walsh, isn't opposing this restructuring; instead, they are facilitating it. The document clearly states that the CWU signed the December 2024 Framework Agreement, which launched the restructuring process. They also approved the ODM pilots and enforced a pay deal that is below inflation. Furthermore, they have targeted workers who organise independently through the PWRFC. The CWU’s “Heavy and Light” model is revealed to be deceptive: it is not an alternative to ODM but a rebranding that entails a further 15 per cent increase in workloads. The union leadership serves as a labour-management partner whose primary function is to suppress opposition and align the workforce with corporate interests.

The political context: Starmer’s Labour government and the corporate oligarchy

The reorganisation of Royal Mail cannot be separated from the wider political context. The Starmer government, backed by the financial oligarchy, approved Křetínský’s takeover and has indicated support for additional “modernisation” measures, which mainly mean job cuts, increased speeds, and the elimination of remaining protections.

The media’s portrayal that illness is caused by workers supports this agenda. It sets the stage for increased demands for "flexibility," heavier workloads, stricter attendance policies, reduced sick pay, and the spread of Amazon-like conditions throughout the postal industry. This isn't an impartial discussion about efficiency; it's an attack on working-class interests.

The way forward: independent rank‑and‑file committees

The solution is not to accept this framing but to establish independent rank-and-file committees that assume control of working conditions away from both management and the CWU bureaucracy.”

This is the only feasible way forward. Rank-and-file committees must assert democratic control over workloads, staffing, and safety. They should expose the collaboration of CWU leadership, unify postal workers across delivery offices and regions, and connect their struggle with workers internationally facing similar restructuring efforts. Additionally, they need to oppose the Labour government’s pro-corporate policies. The confrontation at Royal Mail is not just a local industrial dispute but part of a global fight between the working class and a capitalist system that values human health as expendable.

 

 

Conclusion

The media’s depiction of Royal Mail’s sickness absence bill as a worker-created crisis is false. The actual crisis stems from the health decline caused by a restructuring regime pushed by billionaire investors, supported by the CWU bureaucracy, and approved by the Labour government. Postal workers need to reject the narrative that blames them for their own exploitation to protect their lives and livelihoods. The way forward is to establish independent rank-and-file committees and to organise a united political fight against the corporate oligarchy and its political allies.

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[1] Royal Mail hit by £200m Staff Sickness-1^st Class Chat

The Auctioning of Wuthering Heights: Capitalism’s Desecration of Culture

The Associated Press recently featured a charming story of cultural interest: a first edition of Wuthering Heights expected to sell for between £400,000 and £600,000. But this is more than just a collectable; it offers a keen insight into a declining social structure. The novel, which vividly illustrates the destructive impacts of property, class oppression, and social exclusion, is now being auctioned as a speculative asset to the highest bidder. “What we have is a society in which if you want to enjoy art, you must be a billionaire.” The irony is not incidental. It is structural. It expresses the logic of capitalism applied to culture in its most naked form.

The Brontës and the Market: A Historical Crime Scene

Emily Brontë passed away in 1848 at age 30, having endured material struggles and strict social limits in a Yorkshire parsonage. She and her sisters used male pseudonyms because the literary world—similar to other bourgeois institutions—excluded women from serious involvement. Their writing was driven not by profit, which was minimal, but by an inner desire to explore fundamental human questions.

The initial critics of Wuthering Heights reacted with shock. One condemned it for its “vulgar depravity and unnatural horrors.” The novel’s brutal depiction of how property disputes corrupt love, family bonds, and the human spirit was too intense for Victorian sensibilities. It emerged from suffering, brilliance, and a strong artistic integrity that challenged the shallow values of its time.

Nearly 180 years later, that same novel has become a symbol of wealth for the ultra-rich. The Brontës’ creative work—created under conditions of oppression and hardship—is now just another luxury item. This shift is not accidental but the unavoidable result of a system that places private wealth above all human values.

Art as Loot: The Oligarchic Appropriation of Culture

Marx explained long ago that under capitalism, money acts as “the visible divinity”—transforming all human and natural properties into their opposites. Today, this idea is verified daily in the art market. Auction houses that once sold a banana duct-taped to a wall for $6.24 million now also list Wuthering Heights, not because the market can tell the difference, but because it cannot. The sole indicator remains price.

The estimated cost of £400,000–£600,000 for this project must be viewed in the global context, where billions face poverty, homelessness, failing public services, and declining support for cultural institutions. Public museums and libraries are being closed or dismantled. For example, the British Library has destroyed tens of thousands of books and historic newspapers. At the same time, wealthy oligarchs are creating private museums—such as Alice Walton’s Crystal Bridges, Roman Abramovich’s New Holland Island complex, and Eli Broad’s Los Angeles gallery—to enclose their collections. This trend does not represent the preservation of culture but rather its privatisation and sequestration.

 What Wuthering Heights Actually Says

Auctioneers may praise the novel’s “cultural significance” and “emotional power," but they often overlook that Wuthering Heights also critically examines property-based society. Heathcliff’s transformation from an orphan to a vengeful figure is driven entirely by the class humiliations he suffers. The novel vividly illustrates—shockingly to early readers and still disturbingly relevant today—that a social system rooted in property ownership and inheritance can devastate human lives. Now, if the same work is marketed as a speculative investment for the very class Brontë depicted with brutal honesty, it is not only ironic but also deeply obscene.

Capitalism’s War on Culture

The commercialisation of Wuthering Heights exemplifies a broader pattern: the decline of public culture and the privatisation of artistic heritage. The wealthy elite, possessing vast resources, tend to view art primarily as a means to increase their capital. Meanwhile, the working class—who generate all wealth and cultural output—are continually denied access to these cultural treasures that they helped create. It’s the working class that produces all wealth and culture, but is systematically excluded from the cultural heritage that rightly belongs to them.

The Socialist Answer: Expropriate the Expropriators

Marx envisioned a society where enjoying art required being an artistically cultivated individual. Today, this is reversed: to enjoy art, one must be a billionaire. The answer isn't to criticise the rich’s philistinism or rely on their non-existent sense of responsibility.

Instead, we must abolish social structures that privatise culture for a parasitic elite. Artistic and literary treasures should be democratically controlled by those who created them. Achieving this demands expropriating the expropriators and transforming society along socialist lines. Only then can classics like Wuthering Heights—and all of humanity’s cultural heritage—be restored to their true owners: the international working class.

 

Katja Hoyer’s Liberal Mythology of Weimar: A Marxist Refutation

Katja Hoyer’s essay on the Weimar Republic exemplifies contemporary liberal ideology: it is humane in tone, superficially balanced, yet fundamentally inaccurate. It echoes the bourgeois historiographical claim that Weimar was a fragile but genuine democracy that tragically failed to rally its citizens. However, this narrative is not only incomplete but also a political distortion that conceals the key lessons of the German Revolution, the counterrevolutionary nature of the Weimar state, and the significant influence of Social Democracy and Stalinism in paving the way for fascism.[1]

A Marxist perspective suggests a different explanation. Weimar's fall wasn't due to a lack of “optimism,” “credible leadership,” or “real change on the ballot paper.” Instead, it failed because it was founded on oppressing the working class and upheld by parties that repeatedly betrayed it. Hoyer’s liberal moralism—her claim that democracies must “offer hope”—acts today as a political sedative, dulling the working class's awareness amid capitalism's renewed crisis and the far right's resurgence.

This article clarifies the historical facts that Hoyer’s account conceals. It argues that Weimar was not a failed democratic experiment but a short-lived counterrevolutionary regime that temporarily maintained bourgeois dominance. Its collapse was driven not by voter disillusionment but by political betrayals from the SPD, the Stalinist-led KPD, and the trade union bureaucracy. The key lesson for today is not about the importance of charismatic centrists, but about the urgent need to develop an independent revolutionary leadership within the working class.

I. Weimar Was Born as a Counterrevolution

Liberal interpretations of Weimar typically start with the November Revolution as a sign of democratic awakening. Hoyer also describes the 1919 elections as a moment of civic renewal. However, this story falls apart under even basic historical examination.

1. The November Revolution and the SPD’s Counterrevolutionary Role

The German Revolution of 1918–19 was not an unplanned democratic reform effort. Instead, it was a proletarian uprising that toppled the Kaiser, created workers’ and soldiers’ councils nationwide, and raised issues of state power. The SPD leaders—Ebert, Scheidemann, Noske—quickly moved to suppress this revolution. Their goal was not to expand the revolution but to control, steer, and eventually suppress it.

Ebert’s covert agreement with General Groener on 10 November 1918 marked the birth of the Weimar Republic. In return for military backing, Ebert committed to protecting the existing officer class and capitalist system from revolutionary workers. This was not a democratic compromise but a counterrevolutionary alliance.

 2. The January 1919 Elections: Democracy at Gunpoint

Hoyer’s sentimental reference to Kate Lehmann’s diary—her “celebratory mood” on election day—ignores a crucial reality. The elections occurred right after the SPD-ordered crackdown on the Berlin uprising, during which the Freikorps, authorised by Noske, brutally suppressed the revolution. On 15 January 1919, Rosa Luxemburg and Karl Liebknecht were murdered by officers with the silent approval of the SPD government. Therefore, the Weimar Republic was not founded on democratic victory but on political murders. The electorate’s "joy” was ultimately based on the deaths of revolutionary leaders.

3. Continuity of the Old State Apparatus

The new republic maintained much of the Kaiserreich's structure: the judiciary was still staffed by monarchist judges who gave lenient sentences to right-wing killers while harshly persecuting leftists. The Reichswehr stayed unreformed, operating as a “state within a state” with leadership that despised democracy and plotted against it openly. The civil service remained a stronghold of reaction, loyal to the old order. Although it appeared democratic, the regime's rule was actually sustained by the old elites. Weimar was not a true break from the past; rather, it was the political framework that allowed the bourgeoisie to survive the revolutionary upheaval.

II. The Collapse of Weimar: Betrayal, Not Disillusionment

Hoyer’s main argument—that Weimar fell because voters grew “disenchanted” with democracy—oversimplifies a significant class struggle into a psychological issue. It presents a liberal morality story suggesting democracy collapses when citizens lose faith, rather than due to actions by the ruling class. A Marxist perspective shows a different picture: the working class was not defeated by fascism; instead, it was betrayed by its own leaders.

1. The Balance of Forces in 1932

In the November 1932 free elections, the SPD secured 121 seats, the KPD 100, and the Nazis 196. Together, the workers’ parties still held a majority in Parliament. The proletariat remained Germany’s most influential social force, yet it was politically immobilised.

2. The SPD: From Counterrevolution to Capitulation

The SPD’s actions in the early 1930s can be seen as a continuation of its betrayal in 1918–19. It supported Brüning’s presidential dictatorship by voting for emergency decrees that undermined parliamentary democracy. The party also endorsed Hindenburg’s re-election, endorsing the man who would later appoint Hitler. Additionally, it failed to mobilise its millions of members when von Papen staged the coup against the Prussian SPD government in July 1932. Trotsky’s assessment remains clear: the SPD leadership acted as if Germany’s fate depended not on the strength of the working class, but on “the pure spirit of the Weimar Constitution,”

3. The KPD: Stalinism’s Catastrophic “Social Fascism” Line

Under Stalin’s guidance, the KPD labelled the SPD and fascism as "twins.” This extreme-left stance rejected forming a united front against the Nazis, focused its criticism mainly on the SPD, and even caused the KPD to collaborate with the Nazis during the 1931 Prussian referendum. Consequently, this approach led to political confusion among the working class and undermined its unity when it was most needed.

4. The Trade Unions: Total Capitulation

Before Hitler’s ascent to power, the ADGB leadership handed over control. On 1 May 1933, unions marched under the swastika. The next day, Nazi forces raided their offices. Due to the union bureaucracy's failure to rally the working class, it disbanded itself and integrated into the new regime.

5. The Myth of “Democratic Failure”

Weimar's fall was not due to democracy's failure but because the parties professing to represent the working class subordinated it to the bourgeois order. Reformism and Stalinism—both forms of opportunism—eliminated the chance for a revolutionary alternative.

III. Liberal Optimism as Political Anaesthetic

Hoyer’s core lesson—that democracies need to present “optimism,” “hope,” and tangible change—encapsulates liberal ideology. It presumes that the crisis in bourgeois democracy can be addressed internally, simply by improving messaging and personalities. This, however, is a form of political mystification.

1. The Crisis of Bourgeois Democracy Is Structural, Not Psychological

Hoyer points out that 83 per cent support parliament “in principle,” yet only 31 per cent approve of its actual functioning. This isn’t a communication failure but an acknowledgement that parliament primarily serves the capitalist class. The core contradiction isn’t between voters and politicians but between the state's democratic appearance and its capitalist substance.

2. The Working Class Does Not Need Optimism

The liberal use of “hope" serves as a replacement for actual political analysis. It encourages passivity and trust in institutions that have consistently let down the working class.

3. The Real Lesson of Weimar

When the ruling class is unable to maintain democratic rule, it will readily forsake democracy. The sole force capable of safeguarding democratic rights is the working class, which must be independently organized outside all bourgeois parties and equipped with a socialist agenda.

IV. The Present Crisis: Why Hoyer’s Liberalism Is Dangerous

Hoyer’s argument is not merely historically wrong. It is politically disorienting in a moment of acute crisis.

1. Germany Today: The Return of Militarism and the Far Right

The German ruling class is rebuilding its military on a scale not seen since the Nazi era. Democratic rights are under ongoing attack. The far-right AfD is becoming normalized and cultivated by parts of the establishment. Across Europe, the political centre is disintegrating.

In this environment, calls for “credible leadership” and "genuine change on the ballot" essentially urge the working class to entrust its future once more to the bourgeoisie.

2. The SPD and Greens: Continuity, Not Renewal

The modern SPD and Greens, similar to their Weimar counterparts, act as tools for stabilizing capitalism. Their backing of militarism, austerity measures, and the suppression of dissent shows they are not capable of driving democratic renewal.

3. The Only Hopeful Lesson

The lesson from Weimar is not about improving how democracy is promoted. Instead, it emphasizes that the working class must decisively separate itself from all bourgeois parties and form an international revolutionary movement against capitalism. Such a movement is essential for defending and expanding democratic rights.

Conclusion

Katja Hoyer’s liberal interpretation of Weimar offers a reassuring myth for today’s ruling elites. It reimagines a counterrevolutionary regime as a democratic experiment, attributes the failure of bourgeois democracy to issues of optimism, and obscures the crucial roles played by Social Democracy and Stalinism in enabling fascism.

A Marxist perspective uncovers the reality: Weimar was inherently counterrevolutionary from the start, sustained through betrayal, and ultimately brought down by the working class’s political indecision. Its true lesson isn’t about needing better leaders or more inspiring speeches, but about forming a revolutionary leadership that can unite workers against both fascism and the bourgeois “democrats” who facilitate its rise. This lesson remains vital today, as capitalism’s crisis worsens and the far right gains ground across Europe. The working class must resist liberal illusions and prepare for struggle.

 

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[1] Was Weimar an Unloved Democracy? www.katjahoyer.uk/p/was-weimar-an-unloved-democracy?hide_intro_popup=true

The Emma Hayes–ITV “Kitchen” Furore: A Manufactured Identity Politics Diversion from the Social Crisis Confronting Millions

The media-fueled controversy over ITV featuring former Chelsea Women’s manager Emma Hayes in a kitchen-like studio setup during Women’s World Cup coverage has been exploited by the upper-middle class to showcase their grievances publicly. This incident—quickly amplified into a “sexism row”—serves as a prime example of how identity politics are used to distract from the dire social issues affecting working-class communities. "The ‘sexism row’ is a conflict between wealthy media bosses and a well-paid pundit… a dispute in which the working class has no involvement."

This sentence reveals the political deception entirely. Emma Hayes is not a victim of patriarchal oppression; she is a prominent and well-paid figure in women’s football. ITV, a corporate broadcaster worth billions, is involved. The dispute is an elite disagreement over how football commentary looks—an issue that has no impact on millions facing survival challenges due to failing public services, rising costs, and austerity.

Identity Politics and the Politics of Diversion

The episode follows a familiar pattern. In 2018, the BBC gender-pay dispute involved presenters earning £400,000–£500,000 annually, portraying themselves as victims of systemic discrimination. An article by Laura Tiernan showed that these privileged groups “are not remotely interested in the problems faced by most women in the workforce.”

Working-class women encounter real challenges like balancing work and family, limited maternity leave, low wages, poorly paid part-time jobs, inflexible shifts, and costly childcare. These problems are rooted not in "the patriarchy" but in capitalism itself. They are the consequences of decades of bipartisan austerity, privatization, and the erosion of social infrastructure.

The Hayes–ITV pseudo-controversy serves a similar political purpose. It sparks days of social-media outrage, opinion pieces, and performative outrage, giving the illusion that society is actively fighting for women’s liberation. However, the real issues faced by working-class women—such as collapsing hospitals, unaffordable childcare, stagnant wages, and the weakening of the NHS—are consistently ignored in public debate.

This is intentional. The goal of identity politics is to substitute class struggles with personal grievances, structural exploitation with symbolic gestures, and the battle against capitalism with efforts to increase diversity in corporate leadership.

The Reactionary Contempt Behind the “Kitchen” Outrage

A key aspect of the controversy is the argument that placing Hayes in a kitchen-themed set is inherently insulting. "The suggestion that a kitchen set is inherently ‘demeaning’ rests on a contemptuous attitude toward domestic labour." This harshly criticizes the class dimension of modern feminism. For countless working-class women, domestic labour isn’t a form of oppression but an everyday, physically demanding task—done unpaid, unrecognized, and lacking social support. The wealthy elite involved in identity politics are not advocating for better recognition of domestic work or shared childcare. Instead, they aim to distance themselves from anything linked to ordinary women's experiences.

Their anger isn't about the exploitation of domestic work itself, but about its symbolic link to it. This reflects a politics of personal branding rather than a pursuit of social liberation.

A Conflict Among Elites, Irrelevant to the Working Class

The working class remains uninvolved in conflicts between millionaire pundits and billionaire broadcasters. The media’s intense focus on these trivial issues is a deliberate political move. It aims to keep the public distracted by symbolic debates while the ruling class speeds up its attack on living standards.

Readers' conclusions should be clear-cut: "Achieving true equality for women requires not just more women in executive positions, but fundamentally overthrowing the capitalist system that sustains gender oppression." This core view must steer the working class. As with all social inequalities, gender oppression originates from the capitalist mode of production. It cannot be solved through corporate diversity efforts, media outrage, or elevating a few privileged women to elite roles.

The Socialist Alternative

The sole progressive response to the social crisis affecting working-class women and men is the independent, international mobilization of the working class around a socialist program. This involves restoring public services dismantled by years of austerity, socialising childcare and domestic work, ensuring secure, well-paid employment for everyone, and expropriating the financial oligarchy that controls all aspects of social life.

The Hayes–ITV controversy serves as a distraction from critical issues, a fabricated spectacle designed to keep the population politically confused and socially fragmented. The working class should reject identity politics in all its forms and instead focus on the struggle for socialism—the only route to true equality and human liberation.

 

The Liberal Media’s “Trump as Hitler” Narrative: A Political Diversion Aimed at Disarming the Working Class

The American political system is showing signs of deep decay. The incident where Donald Trump circulated a post calling him “more dangerous than Hitler” is not just an isolated event but a reflection of the broader corruption affecting the entire capitalist system. The document emphasises that Trump’s authoritarian tendencies are fundamental, not accidental: as David North pointed out, Trump’s movement exhibits signs of fascism, with a distinct, troubling odour. Trump operates without regard for constitutional or legal constraints. These comments are serious assessments of a political trend that is emerging from the ongoing crisis of American capitalism.[1]

The Roman Circus on the South Lawn

Nothing highlights the brutality of the current administration more clearly than the grotesque cage match on the White House lawn—fighters fighting fiercely while Trump observed like a Roman emperor. Marketed cynically as part of the “semiquincentennial” of the Declaration of Independence, this event was a deliberate rejection of democratic values. It celebrated violence, hierarchy, and dominance—precisely the social relations the ruling class aims to enforce on the working class amidst preparations for increased repression domestically and war. This isn't just Trump’s personal issue. It exemplifies a broader political culture among the ruling class that has exhausted all democratic means of managing social conflict. The shift to outright brutality indicates an oligarchy that can no longer govern through consent.

The Liberal Establishment’s Counterfeit Anti‑Fascism

However, the primary political threat isn't just Trump’s theatrics. It stems from how the Democratic Party and its media allies are using the “Trump is worse than Hitler' narrative as a weapon. As the document accurately notes, this portrayal “is not a genuine anti-fascist analysis.” Instead, it’s a strategic ideological tactic aimed at directing widespread opposition to Trump into the secure confines of a capitalist party that itself undermines democratic rights.

The Democrats’ reaction to the White House spectacle—a $330 celebrity concert with Jane Fonda, Julia Roberts, and Bette Midler—exposes the class basis of their politics. It exemplifies “the politics of affluent identity, not the mobilisation of the working class.” This approach is characterised by moral posturing, symbolic actions, and commodified dissent—in stark contrast to the mass, organised, internationalist movement needed to oppose fascism.

The liberal media’s comparisons to Hitler serve two main purposes. They first diminish the unique historical nature of fascism, turning it into a moralistic stereotype instead of recognising it as a specific outcome of capitalist crises. Second, these analogies turn the struggle against authoritarianism into a branding strategy for the Democratic Party, which aims to portray itself as the final defender of "democracy” even while backing mass surveillance, militarism, and social suppression.

The Historical Lessons the Democrats Seek to Bury

Referring to Hitler's aims to obscure rather than clarify. The text stresses that “Fascism was not halted by liberals or by voting for the 'lesser evil.' It was halted—where it was—by the organised force of the working class, guided by a revolutionary Marxist plan." This crucial historical fact is what the Democratic Party and its media outlets are eager to hide.

In Germany, the Social Democratic Party disarmed the working class politically, clearing the way for Hitler’s rise. Similarly, in Italy, the liberal bourgeoisie handed power to Mussolini to suppress the workers’ movement. In Spain, the Popular Front suppressed the revolution, allowing Franco to win. In all these instances, the liberal bourgeoisie was unable to oppose fascism because it feared the working class far more than it feared the fascists.

The current situation remains similar. Democrats’ main goal is not to combat authoritarianism but to stop the rise of a working-class movement that could challenge capitalism itself.

The Real Target of the Hitler Comparisons: The Working Class

Contemporary comparisons to Hitler are used to redirect genuine anger towards backing the Democratic Party and NATO’s growing militarism. The ruling elite aim to merge anti-Trump feelings with endorsement of imperialist conflicts, portraying them as parts of a unified “defence of democracy.” This is misleading. The working class has no stake in siding with any segment of the capitalist oligarchy, whether under MAGA nationalism or liberal humanitarianism.

“The working class must have its own party, program, and independent struggle.” This is essential. Combating fascism is inherently linked to opposing capitalism. It demands the formation of a revolutionary socialist movement connected to the global working class, informed by 20th-century lessons, and unwavering in its resistance to all aspects of the ruling elite.

Conclusion: The Path Forward

The threat of authoritarianism is real, but it cannot be tackled solely through the Democratic Party, mainstream media, or superficial liberal rituals. Instead, it requires a deliberate and organised global effort by the working class to oppose the capitalist system, which fosters fascism, war, and dictatorship. The goal is not to pick between different factions of the oligarchy but to create a political force strong enough to overthrow the oligarchic system entirely. This is the only way to achieve true democracy, social equality, and human liberation.

 

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[1] Donald Trump proudly shares a post which says he is more dangerous than Hitler-www.dailystar.co.uk/news/latest-news/donald-trump-proudly-shares-post-37314895

The Right Wing Counter Revolution Is Advancing — And Labour Is One of Its Engines

Andy Beckett’s recent article in The Guardian highlights the political crisis facing Britain’s liberal intellectuals. It describes the growth of a reactionary movement opposed to immigration and equality, but fails to explain why it emerged or how to combat it. The article is a lament from a social class that has lost direction, still holding onto outdated beliefs about a political system that is no longer relevant.[1]

Beckett's depiction of a “right-wing counter-revolution” actually reflects a capitalist system in deep crisis. However, since he refuses to recognise the class roots of this crisis, he replaces analytical understanding with moral outrage. The article considers the rise of the right wing primarily as a cultural anomaly rather than a class problem. Beckett explains that opposition from Reform UK, the Conservatives under Badenoch, and far-right street groups is driven by resistance to “multiculturalism” and “equality.” He references Nigel Farage’s claim that “anti-whiteness is institutionalised into every aspect of public life' and notes the Conservatives’ pledge to abolish the public sector equality duty.

He sees these shifts as the result of bad ideas spreading or a small elite manipulating public discourse. This is a common misconception among liberals. The growth of the far right is not mainly due to "culture wars.” Instead, it's fuelled by years of austerity that have impoverished millions, caused real wages to fall, hollowed out public services, intensified imperialist conflicts, and a political elite—Labour included—that fails to provide progressive solutions to the capitalist crisis.

Under these conditions, the ruling class resorts to authoritarianism, nationalism, and xenophobia to redirect social unrest away from itself. The far right is not an external menace but a weapon used by the political establishment. Beckett cannot recognise this because doing so would amount to criticising the entire political system he endorses.

When addressing Becket’s assertion, it’s important to see that Labour isn’t ignoring the right; instead, it’s actively backing it. Becket portrays Labour under Keir Starmer as hesitant, misguided, or excessively cautious. He claims that Labour’s sporadic opposition and overall appeasement have been ineffective, and points out that the party has shown Union flags and adopted stricter immigration policies.

This is a significant distortion. Labour isn't merely trying to appease the right; it is actively part of the right-wing agenda. Starmer has adopted nationalism and militarism, promised to strengthen borders, supported austerity measures, endorsed the government’s foreign policies—including its alignment with US militarism—and has overseen crackdowns on protests and dissent. Labour even considers reactionary grievances, such as the false notion of a surge in immigration, as legitimate. This isn't just a strategic mistake—it reflects the party’s fundamental political stance.

Labour’s purpose is to diminish left-wing ideas among the working class and direct dissatisfaction into safe, nationalist, pro-capitalist outlets. The far right advances because Labour has disconnected from the working class. Beckett cannot admit this, as it would mean recognising that Labour is not a defender against reaction but one of its creators.

Beckett’s suggested approach is to revive the spirit of Ken Livingstone’s Greater London Council (1981–86) and imitate Sadiq Khan’s rhetorical stance on diversity. His nostalgia for the GLC and Khan reflects a liberal fantasy and leans toward political escapism. The GLC’s campaigns—like the poster stating “Black people do not cause slums… They are forced to live in them”—were rhetorically striking but primarily focused on municipal reform. They did not challenge the underlying capitalist property relations. Thatcher’s swift abolition of the GLC was because it posed no real threat to the ruling class. Livingstone himself later became a loyal Labour figure, presiding over a London transformed into a playground for finance capital.

Today, Khan’s London stands as one of the most unequal cities globally. While he lauds diversity, the city is primarily driven by global finance, leading to the displacement of working-class areas, the demolition of public housing, and rising social inequality. Reform UK’s poor performance in London does not signify Khan’s success; rather, it highlights the city’s social stratification—its professional-managerial class is deeply connected to global capitalism and shows limited concern for Farage’s economic nationalism. Beckett’s narrow view of London reflects a liberal middle-class perspective that mistakes its social reality for a political strategy.

Certainly, the so-called “right-wing counter-revolution” exists, but Beckett misidentifies what it targets. He cautions that the backlash “rarely stops,” which is true. However, he misunderstands what is being reversed. The actual counter-revolution isn't directed at “multiculturalism” or the 2010 Equality Act. Instead, it opposes the social advancements achieved by the working class after the war, including the NHS, social housing, free education, secure jobs, trade union rights, and the welfare state.

Both Conservative and Labour administrations have consistently eroded these advances. The Equality Act, lauded by Beckett as a major achievement, was enacted under a Labour government that also engaged in imperialist wars and broadened surveillance. The liberal emphasis on “diversity” masks the underlying class issues: the working class—regardless of ethnicity—is being pushed into poverty, instability, and political exclusion.

Britain is not facing a sudden “backlash” against equality or multiculturalism. Instead, it is experiencing the deliberate creation of reaction by a ruling class that has exhausted all democratic and reformist options for addressing the capitalist crisis. The far right is not an outsider insurgent threatening the political system; rather, it is a distorted mirror of the establishment, created to divert public anger away from the true causes of social suffering.

For over ten years, since the Brexit referendum exposed the contradictions within British capitalism, the political elite has increasingly turned to nationalism, xenophobia, and authoritarian measures. Reform UK, the Conservative right, the billionaire media, and various online reactionaries are not separate entities. They serve as the ideological fighters for a system that no longer maintains power through consent.

Nigel Farage’s claim that Britain is a “two-tier state against white people” goes beyond fringe rhetoric and illustrates a wider political strategy: directing anger over declining living standards, overburdened public services, and ongoing conflicts towards minority groups like immigrants, Muslims, and the idea of “wokeness.” The Conservatives’ plans to abolish even the modest public sector equality duty support this approach. Overall, the ruling elite is systematically removing legal and ideological barriers to openly adopt racialised nationalism as official policy.

The small number of Britons holding these opinions is not important. Historically, reactionary minorities have often influenced a fearful bourgeoisie, supported by the media, and they dominate the national debate. Meanwhile, the liberal middle class becomes passive, and the working class faces political marginalisation.

The liberal perspective argues that Labour under Keir Starmer is too timid, too cautious, and excessively eager to appease the right. However, this is a comforting illusion. Labour’s embrace of Union-flag nationalism, tough immigration policies, condemnations of protests, and its proximity to the security forces are not just mistakes but fundamental elements of the party’s identity.

Labour functions as the party representing the interests of the capitalist state. Its main purpose is to quash left-wing movements within the working class and channel social discontent into socially acceptable channels, such as nationalism and pro-imperialist policies. Starmer’s emphasis on “strong borders” and “restoring order” isn't a right-wing concession but rather the core ideological basis of his administration. This leads to a foreseeable outcome: socially conservative voters, who favour genuine right-wing nationalism, dislike Labour, and liberals, sensing the party’s superficiality, abandon it—meanwhile, the far right gains influence because Labour has inadvertently validated its fundamental ideas.

The right-wing counter-revolution primarily targets the social advances secured by the working class in the 20th century, such as the NHS, social housing, free education, secure jobs, trade union rights, and the welfare state. These achievements have been gradually weakened over decades by both Conservative and Labour governments. The reactionary push now aims to finalise this process by dismantling the political and social structures that have allowed the working class to resist.

Beckett’s optimistic view—that Labour, possibly allied with other “progressive” parties, might stop the right-wing surge—is the last illusion of a political trend that has run its course. The right-wing counter-revolution cannot be halted through better messaging, more confident liberal leaders, or a resurgence of 1980s municipal radicalism.

It requires independent political action by the working class, united internationally around an anti-capitalist, anti-system platform aimed at overthrowing capitalism itself. This crisis is systemic. The far right is merely a symptom, Labour is complicit, and liberalism has run its course. The goal now is to develop revolutionary leadership capable of uniting workers from diverse backgrounds in the fight for socialism.

 

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[1] The right-wing counter-revolution is gaining ground – and Labour’s softly-softly approach won’t stop it- www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2026/jun/17/the-rightwing-counter-revolution-labour-multiculturalism-equality-london 

A Review of George Goodwin’s Propaganda Wars of the American Revolution, Yale University Press, 2026

 

"Give me liberty, or give me death!" - Patrick Henry, speaking at the Second Virginia Convention (1775)

"These are the times that try men's souls." - Thomas Paine, The American Crisis (1776)

"We must all hang together, or assuredly we shall all hang separately." - Attributed to Benjamin Franklin at the signing of the Declaration of Independence (1776)

"Join, or Die" - A famous political cartoon and slogan created by Benjamin Franklin to promote colonial unity against the French and their Native American allies, which later became a symbol of unity against British rule.

Introduction: Propaganda, Class, and the American Revolution

George Goodwin’s Propaganda Wars of the American Revolution comes at a time of deep crisis in American and global capitalism. As the 1776 semi-quincentennial approaches, it coincides with widespread social inequality, imperialist conflicts, and a rapid decline of democratic institutions in the US. It’s no surprise that debates over the meaning of the American Revolution—its origins, class implications, and legacy—have become central in current political discussions. Published by Yale University Press, Goodwin’s book aims to contribute to this debate by exploring how the Patriot movement used pamphlets, sermons, newspapers, broadsides, and political theatre to shape public opinion.

Goodwin is a talented historian and lucid writer. His book makes a significant contribution to a field traditionally dominated by Bernard Bailyn and Gordon S. Wood's "ideological school." However, Propaganda Wars also reveals a main weakness of that perspective by isolating ideas from the material class interests that influence them. Consequently, it presents a polished but somewhat idealist view of the Revolution—focusing on persuasion techniques while underplaying the social forces that made those techniques successful.

The Ideological School and Its Strengths

Goodwin’s intellectual legacy is clearly visible. His emphasis on propaganda as a key element places him mainly in the ‘ideological’ school of Revolutionary historiography, established by Bernard Bailyn. This approach, starting with Bailyn’s The Ideological Origins of the American Revolution (1967), argues that the colonists were driven by a unified worldview rooted in radical Whig ideas. Bailyn and Wood carefully analysed pamphlets, sermons, and political debates from that period, opposing the dismissive view that all declarations of principle are driven solely by self-interest.

From a Marxist perspective, this emphasis on ideas is a notable strength. “It was a school that approached the record of human thought with great seriousness.” This is a welcome corrective to the postmodernist trivialisation of intellectual history and to the racialist distortions of the 1619 Project. Goodwin’s book continues this tradition by showing how the Patriot cause deliberately shaped public opinion—how Thomas Paine energised the colonies, how the Boston Tea Party was used as political theatre, and how Washington actively promoted the image of republican virtue.

Goodwin rightly emphasises that propaganda played a crucial role. Revolutions depend not just on economic factors but also on mobilising large groups, expressing grievances, and envisioning a new political future. The real question is: which forces were being mobilised, and for what purpose?

The Ideological School and Its Afterlives: Bailyn, Wood, and Goodwin in Comparative Perspective

Any Marxist critique of George Goodwin’s Propaganda Wars of the American Revolution must place the work within the wider historiographical context from which it originates. Goodwin is part of a broader intellectual tradition. His book represents the latest version of the “ideological school,” originally established by Bernard Bailyn and further expanded with sharper analysis by Gordon S. Wood. The advantages and drawbacks of Goodwin’s research are linked to those of this entire tradition.

The ideological school has significantly influenced modern interpretations of the American Revolution. It has also been the main opposition to postmodernist and racial-essentialist critiques, which culminated in the New York Times’ 1619 Project. The International Committee of the Fourth International, through its collaboration with Wood and its support for Enlightenment universalism, has actively engaged in this historiographical debate. As such, a clear, materialist evaluation of the ideological school is essential.

Bernard Bailyn: Ideology as Prime Mover

Bernard Bailyn’s The Ideological Origins of the American Revolution (1967) marked a major turning point in the study of Revolutionary history. Moving away from the Progressive focus on economic grievances and class struggles, Bailyn proposed that the colonists' motivations were rooted in a consistent worldview inspired by radical Whig ideas. According to this view, the Revolution was primarily an ideological uprising—a fight to defend liberty against a perceived British plot to wield arbitrary authority.

Bailyn’s contribution was significant. He brought rigour back to the analysis of ideas, elevating Revolutionary pamphlets from scholars’ dismissive view of them as simple rationalisations of self-interest. “It was a school that approached the record of human thought with great seriousness.”

Bailyn’s framework was highly idealistic, portraying ideas as independent forces separate from the material conditions and class dynamics that generate them. The Revolution is depicted as a conflict of political ideas rather than a fight shaped by the contradictions within colonial society. Class conflict is scarcely mentioned; slavery is seen as a minor issue; and the economic and social changes following the Revolution are viewed as minor outcomes rather than fundamental causes. Consequently, Bailyn’s approach is both a significant advance and a limitation—it expanded the scope of intellectual history but also restricted understanding to a non-materialist perspective.

Gordon S. Wood: Ideology as Social Transformation

Gordon S. Wood, Bailyn’s top student, maintained the ideological school’s focus on ideas while expanding its view to include a more vibrant and comprehensive understanding of social change. In his works, The Creation of the American Republic (1969) and The Radicalism of the American Revolution (1992), Wood showed that republican ideology was more than just abstract principles; it was a powerful force that transformed political culture, social structures, and daily life.

Wood’s work represents the most materialist analysis within the ideological school. He demonstrates that the Revolution dismantled monarchical and hierarchical social relationships, empowered the “middling sort,’ and unleashed democratic forces that even the Founders could not fully control. Additionally, he addressed the Revolution’s core contradiction with remarkable clarity: the coexistence of liberty and slavery. Wood argued that the Civil War was an inevitable culmination of a tragedy that originated in the Revolution itself.

Wood’s accomplishment lies in recognising that ideas are rooted in society rather than existing in isolation. However, he avoids adopting a Marxist perspective. He does not view the Revolution as a bourgeois-democratic event, nor does he see slavery as a fundamental aspect of capitalist growth. His approach stays within the ideological tradition, despite pushing against its boundaries.

George Goodwin: Ideology Reduced to Technique

George Goodwin’s Propaganda Wars adopts the strengths of the ideological school but lacks its deeper analytical depth. While Bailyn explored the origins of ideology and Wood examined societal transformations, Goodwin focuses on the mechanics of persuasion. His emphasis is not on the internal logic of Revolutionary ideas but on how they circulated, were performed, and emotionally resonated.

The book thoroughly explores printers, pamphleteers, preachers, and political leaders, illustrating how the Patriot movement intentionally influenced public opinion. It shows how Paine’s writings inspired the colonies, how the destruction of the tea served as a political spectacle, and how Washington fostered an image of republican virtue. However, Goodwin’s approach is more limited than that of earlier scholars. It's important to remember that propaganda is grounded in tangible social forces, not just ideas—it is the ideological expression of actual social dynamics.

Goodwin views propaganda primarily as a technological feat rather than a reflection of class-based ideology. He describes how the Patriots succeeded in convincing the public, but does not explore why their messages connected with various social groups. Consequently, the Revolution is seen more as a success of strategic communication than as a bourgeois-democratic upheaval driven by colonial societal conflicts. In this way, Goodwin exemplifies the continuation of the ideological school. This tradition has lost its core intellectual focus and now persists through cultural history, communication analysis, and political technique.

The Marxist Position: Ideas as the Expression of Class Forces

A Marxist analysis acknowledges the valuable contributions of Bailyn, Wood, and Goodwin. It values their honest engagement with ideas and their opposition to the cynical reductionism often seen in modern academia. Nonetheless, it emphasises that ideas gain historical significance only when they align with material interests and social needs.

The American Revolution was a bourgeois-democratic uprising. Its propaganda functioned as the ideological voice of a rising bourgeois class opposing monarchical authority. The contradictions within that system—especially the tension between liberty and slavery—were evident in its language, silences, and evasive tactics. Bailyn studied the key ideas of Revolutionary ideology, while Wood investigated its social effects. Goodwin analysed how these ideas were disseminated.

The ideological school is essential for understanding the intellectual landscape of the American Revolution, but its focus on idealism limits its ability to fully interpret the Revolution’s significance. Goodwin’s Propaganda Wars offers meaningful insight into this tradition, yet it also reveals its inherent limitations, which are amplified here. “Propaganda does not float free of the material world… They were the ideological expression of real social forces.”

This is the core issue. The American Revolution was primarily a bourgeois-democratic movement, influenced by the conflicts within colonial society. The pamphlets from Boston radicals, sermons from New England clergy, and Paine’s fiery speeches were not independent forces shaping history but rather ideological expressions of various social classes: a rising colonial bourgeoisie limited by imperial mercantilism, artisans and mechanics opposing British economic policies, small farmers fighting taxation and landlordism, and Southern planters wanting westward expansion but hindered by the Crown.

Goodwin’s emphasis on technique—the “how” of persuasion—shields the underlying reasons. Why did Paine’s Common Sense strike such a chord? Why did conspiracy and liberty rhetoric energise urban crowds, frontier farmers, and some enslaved individuals fleeing to British forces? These questions cannot be answered solely by examining propaganda. Instead, they demand a class-based analysis of colonial society. The ideological school has always faced challenges despite its achievements. It views ideas as the main drivers of history, rather than as expressions of material interests. Goodwin’s book, despite its merits, still operates within this idealist perspective.

The Revolution “From Above”

The subtitle—From the Boston Patriots to George Washington—reveals a further limitation. It moves from discussing Boston's radical protests to emphasising Washington, the Virginia planter who represents the Revolution’s consolidation through elite leadership. “The propaganda wars were not just Patriots versus Loyalists; they were also… a struggle over what kind of republic would emerge.”

This is a pivotal moment. The American Revolution, similar to all bourgeois revolutions, involved a deep tension between the democratic hopes it sparked and the class interests that ultimately constrained it. The urban crowds who brought down the George III statue, the workers who enforced non-importation agreements, and the farmers who later participated in Shays’ Rebellion—these groups drove the Revolution beyond what the colonial elite found acceptable.

Goodwin describes this trajectory but doesn't question it. The Revolution is portrayed as a story of growing propaganda rather than as a conflict in which different class forces competed to influence the new republic. The ideological perspective often views the Founders as natural leaders of the Revolution, rather than as representatives of a particular class whose interests lay in rallying and controlling popular support.

The Silence at the Heart of Revolutionary Rhetoric: Slavery

No analysis of Revolutionary propaganda can ignore the core contradiction of 1776: the simultaneous fight for liberty and the perpetuation of chattel slavery. This was not accidental but a fundamental aspect of a revolution led by a class that included slaveholders. Revolutionary language used the metaphor of “slavery” to describe the colonists’ relationship with Britain, largely ignoring the reality of actual slavery. Jefferson’s initial objection to the slave trade was removed from the Declaration. Patriot propaganda aimed to preserve unity among both slaveholders and non-slaveholders across North and South.

Goodwin recognises this contradiction but does not incorporate it into his analysis of propaganda. However, the silences, evasions, and metaphors used in Revolutionary rhetoric were not accidental; they were crucial for maintaining the ideological unity of a movement led by a class whose material interests relied on human bondage. As Wood stated in Empire of Liberty, the tragedy was “preordained from the time of the Revolution.” The Civil War was the inevitable outcome of the contradiction that the Revolution could not resolve.

What Goodwin Achieves—and What He Cannot

Goodwin’s book is insightful and well-researched, offering an engaging look at the mechanics of persuasion. It highlights the roles of pamphleteers, printers, preachers, and political figures who influenced public opinion before independence. The book treats the intellectual environment of the Revolution with seriousness, pushing back against modern academic cynicism. However, its focus on an idealist framework limits its ability to explain events fully.

Propaganda was significant because it reflected the material interests and democratic hopes of large sections of colonial society. It was effective because, even if imperfectly, it conveyed the emerging bourgeois order’s challenge to monarchical authority. Seeing propaganda as an independent force is a mistake; it conflates the form with the underlying social content and reality.

Conclusion: Toward a Marxist Understanding of Revolutionary Propaganda

A Marxist view of the American Revolution recognises the influence of ideas but emphasises that ideas only gain power when linked to material interests and historical needs. The Revolution was a bourgeois-democratic uprising that laid the groundwork for capitalist growth, with its propaganda serving as the ideological expression of this change.

While Goodwin’s Propaganda Wars explores persuasion techniques, it does not address the class forces behind their effectiveness. Although a serious work, it remains rooted in the idealist tradition of the ideological school. To fully understand revolutionary propaganda, one must consider it within the context of colonial American social structure, the contradictions of slavery, and the global rise of capitalism. Only then can we comprehend the Revolution’s true historical logic—and its ongoing significance in a time when the crisis in American democracy raises questions about social revolution.