George Orwell and the Problem of Anti Stalinism: A Marxist Reassessment

 The claim that George Orwell served as a “left-wing gatekeeper” who “vociferously opposed actual socialism” and was thus a “traitor to socialism" has some historical basis. However, as the document emphasises, this is "a significant and genuinely complex question that requires a careful, historically informed answer.” While there is some truth to the accusation, it is part of a broader political and theoretical confusion—one that sheds more light on the ideological landscape of the twentieth century than on Orwell's personal shortcomings.

This response traces Orwell’s political evolution to better understand the nature of his anti-Stalinism, the boundaries of his theoretical development, and why his work ultimately supported imperialist interests despite his proclaimed socialist beliefs. The argument aligns with the view of the International Committee of the Fourth International (ICFI), which rejects the simplistic dichotomy of viewing Orwell as either a hero or a traitor and instead advocates a dialectical analysis of his complex legacy.

I. Orwell’s Political Crime: Collaboration with the British State

Any comprehensive Marxist analysis must confront the most damaging event in Orwell’s political history. In 1949, while gravely ill and just a year before his death, Orwell submitted a list of individuals sympathetic to Stalinism to the British Foreign Office’s Information Research Department (IRD). The document states: “Orwell compiled a list of roughly 130 intellectuals… and passed approximately 35 of those names to the Information Research Department.” This act—regardless of Orwell’s personal motives—constitutes a political capitulation to imperialism. As Fred Mazelis observes: “He was willing to form a political alliance with British imperialism… This decision revealed his rejection of Marxism and a genuinely revolutionary perspective.”

From a Marxist perspective, collaborating with an imperialist propaganda machine is a grave political offence, not a minor mistake. It positioned Orwell clearly on the side of the bourgeois state during the Cold War’s rise as a worldwide ideological push against socialism. Later, Western propagandists exploited Animal Farm and Nineteen Eighty-Four to falsely link socialism with totalitarianism, worsening the reactionary impact of this choice.

II. The Limits of the Indictment: Stalinism Is Not Socialism

Labelling Orwell simply as a “traitor to socialism” overlooks a crucial distinction in Marxist analysis: the difference between Stalinism and socialism. Orwell’s opposition to Stalinism was not only justified but also, in some ways, brave. His book, Homage to Catalonia, is one of the earliest and most explicit critiques of the counterrevolutionary nature of the Stalinist machine during the Spanish Civil War. As the essay highlights: “Orwell, to his credit, was neither a dupe of Stalinism nor a bourgeois liberal defender of the Moscow regime.” In this regard, Orwell aligned more closely with the truth than most Western intellectuals of his era, who either capitulated to Stalinist defences or supported the Popular Front's class-collaborationist policies.

The issue was not Orwell’s anti-Stalin stance itself, but rather the absence of a Marxist theoretical framework capable of clearly distinguishing Stalinism from socialism. His political ties—including Britain’s Independent Labour Party and Spain’s POUM—were centrist groups that fluctuated between revolutionary rhetoric and accommodation within the Popular Front. As I mentioned, “Orwell’s anti-Stalinism was based more on emotion and sentiment than on scientific conviction.” This theoretical deficiency made Orwell susceptible to Cold War ideological pressures, where anti-Stalinism was increasingly controlled by the bourgeoisie.

III. The False Binary: Stalinism vs Bourgeois Democracy

The article highlights Orwell’s main political tragedy: being caught in the misleading binary that shaped twentieth-century ideological debates. “You dislike Stalin? Then you must support Churchill, Roosevelt, and NATO.” This dichotomy of Stalinism versus bourgeois democracy was actively promoted by Western imperial powers. Orwell, without a revolutionary Marxist viewpoint, eventually embraced this framework. Consequently, he drifted rightward politically, not for personal gain but due to theoretical confusion.

In contrast, the Fourth International proposed a third camp: an independent revolutionary movement representing the international working class. The document highlights that “Those who today praise Orwell as a solitary opponent of Stalinism… censor any mention of Trotsky, the Left Opposition and the Fourth International.” Orwell never understood this alternative. His anti-Stalinism, detached from Marxist theory, was co-opted into imperialism's ideological framework.

IV. The Irony of Animal Farm and Nineteen Eighty‑Four

The article reveals a significant irony: Orwell emphasised that Nineteen Eighty-Four was “NOT intended as an attack on socialism.” Instead, it served as a warning against the bureaucratic distortion of socialism—a problem seen in fascism, Stalinism, and possibly Western capitalism. As noted in the text, “His novel… is a critique of unaccountable elite power in general, including capitalist power.”

Since Orwell lacked a clear Marxist analysis of bureaucracy, class, and the state, his work was frequently appropriated by the forces he sought to critique. During the Cold War, the establishment transformed 1984 into a symbol of opposition to socialism, diverging from Orwell's true intent. This highlights a political lesson: without a strong theoretical basis, even sincere socialist critiques can be hijacked by reactionary groups.

Conclusion: Orwell’s Tragedy and the Necessity of Marxist Theory

The document concludes—and this rewrite confirms—that Orwell was not merely a treacherous figure but a deeply confused socialist whose mistakes stemmed from a lack of theoretical understanding rather than malicious intent. "Sentiment, moral outrage, and literary talent are no substitute for the scientific socialism that Trotsky embodied." Orwell’s life shows that anti-Stalinism, unless based on Marxist theory and the Fourth International’s revolutionary program, can be misused to serve imperialism. Therefore, his legacy is not one of moral caution against individual betrayal but a historical defence of the importance of revolutionary theory, clear programmatic goals, and the active political engagement of the working class.

 

Correspondence On George Orwell, Anti Stalinism, and the Politics of Appropriation: A Marxist Reassessment of John Rodden, Fred Mazelis, and the Historiography of “Orwell

Orwell was a left-wing gatekeeper who vociferously argued against actually existing socialism – in other words, he was a traitor to the cause of socialism.

Joe

George Orwell, Anti Stalinism, and the Politics of Appropriation: A Marxist Reassessment of John Rodden, Fred Mazelis, and the Historiography of “Orwell

 1. Introduction: The Problem of “Orwell”

Few twentieth-century writers have been as extensively appropriated, repurposed, and wielded as ideological tools as George Orwell. Today, his name is less linked to a particular historical figure and more as a symbolic term within the political lexicon of the capitalist West: “Orwellian” surveillance, propaganda, and authoritarianism. This term functions as a universal shorthand for political evil, used effortlessly by liberals, conservatives, libertarians, and even security agencies. This broad usage is no accident but the result of a long, deliberate process of cultural shaping that has transformed Orwell from a nuanced democratic socialist into a Cold War icon of anti-communism and a moral voice against “totalitarianism” in all its forms.

John Rodden’s *Becoming George Orwell: Life and Letters, Legend and Legacy* offers a nuanced look at Orwell’s changing reputation. His key point—that there are “two Orwells,” the historical figure and the posthumous icon—is convincing and well-supported. Rodden tracks Orwell’s reputation from the Book-of-the-Month Club’s promotion of *Animal Farm* to the CIA’s influence in the film adaptation, showing how cultural bodies shape political meanings. Despite thorough archival work, Rodden’s perspective remains politically limited. By focusing mainly on how audiences received Orwell’s work, he subtly endorses the liberal view that Orwell’s politics were always consistent, and that the Cold War distorted them. This assumption is weak analytically and overlooks important questions a Marxist approach would raise.

This question is simple: why did the ruling class easily embrace Orwell? Why did Animal Farm and Nineteen Eighty-Four become key texts in Western anti-communism? Why has Orwell’s name been turned into a tool within the ideological weapons of the very system he aimed to oppose? These questions extend beyond cultural history alone. They require a political analysis of Orwell’s personal beliefs, contradictions, and limitations.

Fred Mazelis and the World Socialist Web Site (WSWS) provide an important correction here. Mazelis’s critique of Orwell’s anti-Stalinism—particularly in “George Orwell and the British Foreign Office”—challenges the liberal myth about Orwell that has persisted since the 1950s. For Mazelis, Orwell’s political evolution is more about unresolved contradictions than heroic dissent. Although Orwell’s opposition to Stalinism was genuine and courageous, it was not based on a revolutionary Marxist worldview. His political associations—the ILP in Britain and the POUM in Spain—aligned him with centrist groups that rejected Trotsky’s analysis of Stalinism and, in effect, supported the Popular Front. As Mazelis notes, Orwell’s connection to the working class was “more based on emotion and sentiment than on scientific conviction.” Thus, he was opposed to Stalinism but did not fully support the revolutionary alternative of the Fourth International.

This article argues that Orwell’s work is susceptible to right-wing co-optation not due to misinterpretation, but because of the inherent ambiguities in his political position. The Cold War did not distort Orwell’s ideas; rather, it selectively highlighted certain aspects of his writings. The ruling elite did not need to distort Orwell’s anti-Stalinist views; they just had to disconnect them from his broader socialist beliefs, which Orwell himself could never fully articulate. Consequently, Orwell’s ideological legacy is closely linked to the political boundaries within which he operated.

The argument is supported by comparing three historiographical traditions: Rodden’s cultural-historical approach, which examines how “Orwell” became a symbolic figure; the mainstream liberal and social-democratic perspective, seeing Orwell as a moral witness and democratic socialist; and the Marxist analysis by Mazelis and the WSWS, which situates Orwell’s anti-Stalinism within the wider context of the international socialist movement's political crisis.

These traditions are more than just different interpretations; they are rooted in conflicting ideological theories. Rodden views ideology as its reception, the mainstream perceives it as a moral stance, and Mazelis regards it as a political position. Only the political line can explain Orwell’s internal political contradictions and the way his work has been used externally.

The significance of this analysis extends beyond Orwell himself. The discussion of Orwell’s legacy primarily centres on interpretations of socialism, anti-Stalinism, and the history of revolutionary Marxism. Clarifying Orwell’s role against liberal mythmaking doesn’t imply portraying him as a revolutionary—since he was not— but rather involves situating his work within the political chaos that shaped his experiences and outcomes. Orwell’s tragedy isn’t being misunderstood but being politically stuck: caught between a Stalinism he truly hated and a revolutionary path he couldn’t pursue. This article aims to highlight an alternative focus in Orwell studies. Only through this can we fully grasp Orwell’s work, legacy, and the political uses to which they have been subjected.

2. Rodden’s “Two Orwell’s”: Reputation, Myth, and Cultural Construction

John Rodden’s *Becoming George Orwell* offers the most thorough exploration of Orwell's evolution from a specific historical figure to a lasting cultural icon. His central idea—the distinction between Orwell the person and “Orwell” the myth—is more than just stylistic; it’s a methodological stance. This approach allows him to examine Orwell through the lens of the sociology of reputation, highlighting that his importance is shaped not only by his political beliefs but also by the institutional and ideological forces that have invoked his name since he died in 1950. Consequently, Rodden’s work resonates with reception studies inspired by Raymond Williams, Stuart Hall, and the Birmingham School, albeit without their Marxist perspective. For Rodden, “Orwell” functions as a cultural artefact, a symbolic resource, and a site of ideological contest.

Rodden’s key empirical insights include a detailed examination of how Animal Farm integrated into American culture. He discusses its promotion by the Book-of-the-Month Club, how anti-communist liberals embraced it, and the CIA's covert funding of its 1954 animated adaptation. Additionally, he shows that Nineteen Eighty-Four was seen not just as a socialist warning about bureaucracy but as a universal symbol of “totalitarianism,” a concept that during the Cold War blurred the distinctions between Stalinism and fascism. Rodden’s analysis also highlights how Orwell’s essays were selectively included in anthologies, how his letters were curated, and how politicians from various ideologies used his image. Through his analysis, Orwell serves as a lens for understanding Cold War cultural politics.

Rodden’s framework, while sophisticated, suffers from a key theoretical flaw: it views appropriation as happening after the author’s death, overlooking its reliance on the original work's political context. His “two Orwells” model posits a distinct separation between the historical Orwell and the symbolic “Orwell," allowing him to set aside Orwell’s anti-Stalinist stance to concentrate on later interpretations. This methodological choice has significant consequences. It causes Rodden to perceive Cold War-era uses of Orwell as distortions, misinterpretations, or cultural recontextualizations, rather than as expressions of contradictions already present in Orwell’s own political beliefs.

Rodden intentionally avoids scrutinising Orwell’s political views on the grounds of the liberal belief that Orwell’s anti-Stalinism and his concept of “democratic socialism” are fundamentally valid. This view holds that the Cold War highlighted certain aspects of Orwell’s work while hiding others. Such an approach allows Rodden to maintain a neutral stance, positioning himself as a credible historian rather than an ideological critic. However, this also prevents him from addressing a key question: why was Orwell’s work so easily co-opted by groups he opposed? While Rodden can explain how this appropriation occurs, he struggles to justify why it remains politically feasible.

Rodden’s analysis of Animal Farm and Nineteen Eighty-Four highlights this limitation. He thoroughly documents their Cold War usage but doesn't investigate why these works, rather than titles like The Road to Wigan Pier or Homage to Catalonia, became Orwell’s main texts. Although he mentions the CIA’s role in the Animal Farm film, he doesn't explore the political reasons that made the text suitable for such intervention. He claims that American audiences primarily knew Orwell through his anti-totalitarian works, but overlooks how Orwell’s political ambiguities influenced this perception.

Rodden’s lack of mention of Trotsky is especially revealing. In a study examining Orwell's ideological perspectives, Trotsky—the prominent opponent of Stalinism—is not just absent but fundamentally omitted. He is only referenced as a name Orwell or his contemporaries mention, never as a political alternative that could shed light on Orwell’s own boundaries. This omission is common in mainstream Orwell scholarship but significantly weakens Rodden’s analysis, which seeks to explore Orwell’s ideological applications. By ignoring Trotsky and the revolutionary tradition Stalinism aimed to erase, it becomes impossible to fully grasp Orwell’s stance or properly analyze his ideological position.

Rodden’s “two Orwells” model shifts focus twice: it attributes the political contradictions in Orwell’s writings to the cultural forces that shaped his posthumous fame, while also marginalising Trotsky and the Fourth International’s revolutionary alternative. This creates a thorough history of Orwell’s reputation but offers limited political analysis. Although Rodden discusses how Orwell became a Cold War icon, he does not explore why Orwell’s work was so easily transformed in this way.

3. The Mainstream Liberal and Social‑Democratic Orwell

While Rodden’s work provides the most detailed effort to contextualise Orwell’s posthumous reputation historically, the mainstream liberal and social-democratic traditions most frequently aim to maintain its stability. From Bernard Crick’s "George Orwell: A Life" (1980) to D. J. Taylor’s "Orwell: The Life" (2003), and from Michael Shelden’s more narrative biography to Christopher Hitchens’ provocative "Why Orwell Matters," the dominant scholarly and journalistic consensus largely remains unchanged: Orwell is regarded as a principled democratic socialist, a moral critic opposing totalitarianism, and a writer whose political integrity exceeds the ideological conflicts of his time. This consensus persists strongly, not because it is strictly historically accurate, but because it plays a specific ideological role within the political culture of the capitalist West.

The common view considers Orwell as a figure of moral clarity amidst the chaos of ideology. His socialism is seen not as a fixed Marxist theory but as an ethical position based on a rejection of injustice, compassion for the oppressed, and a dedication to fairness and decency. This form of ethical socialism stands in contrast to Stalinism’s bureaucratic nightmare, which is regarded as an inevitable result of rigid ideology and revolutionary zeal. In this view, Orwell serves as the conscience of the Left, highlighting the risks of ideological extremism and advocating for moderation, diversity, and parliamentary democracy.

This interpretation offers political benefits, allowing liberal scholars to view Orwell as aligned with their values while distancing him from the revolutionary roots that shaped early-twentieth-century socialism. Likewise, social democrats can present Orwell as a precursor to their reformist ideas, often ignoring his profound disillusionment with the Labour Party and his recognition of the limitations of parliamentary socialism. Furthermore, the broader ideological apparatus of the capitalist state can leverage Orwell as a tool to oppose any radical critique, whether Marxist, anarchist, or anti-imperialist.

This analysis centres on selective emphasis. Mainstream scholars often focus on Orwell’s critique of Stalinism, frequently ignoring his criticisms of British imperialism, class society, and capitalist exploitation. They celebrate *Animal Farm* and *Nineteen Eighty-Four* as universal warnings against totalitarianism but tend to minimise *The Road to Wigan Pier* and *Homage to Catalonia*, which expose capitalism's brutality and the Popular Front's betrayals. Moreover, they highlight Orwell’s essays on language and politics while overlooking his more radical views on revolutionary change.

This focus excludes Trotsky and the Fourth International. Crick’s biography portrays Trotsky as a distant figure, briefly mentioning him without emphasising his role as a political thinker whose ideas could illuminate Orwell’s perspectives. Taylor’s biography is even more evasive, presenting Trotskyism as a marginal sect rather than a significant revolutionary alternative to Stalinism. Hitchens, despite his rhetorical skill, reduces Trotsky to an emblem of ideological excess, linking him to Orwell only as victims of Stalinist repression. Consequently, the revolutionary Marxist critique of Stalinism becomes obscured, and Orwell’s anti-Stalinism is detached from the political tradition that could have given it coherence.

This omission is intentional, not accidental. It emphasises a core idea: viewing Trotsky as a viable political choice requires us to see Stalinism not as an unavoidable outcome of Marxism but as a particular historical decline. This means recognising that the crimes of the Soviet bureaucracy are not inherently socialist but are committed by a counter-revolutionary elite that seized the gains of 1917. Furthermore, it shows that Orwell’s anti-Stalin position, though morally compelling, lacked the analytical depth and political strategy that Trotsky provided.

The dominant tradition avoids admitting this because it would diminish Orwell's influence in liberal political culture. Orwell is appreciated because he appears to critique totalitarianism without undermining the legitimacy of capitalist democracy. He can be invoked by both the Left and the Right, embodying a brand of socialism that fits within the existing system — one motivated by sentiment and ethics instead of revolutionary strategy.

Mainstream scholars stick to calling Orwell a “democratic socialist’ because the term is broad enough to encompass his ethical views while excluding revolutionary Marxism that might challenge liberal democracy. This perspective allows Orwell to be regarded as a critic of injustice without supporting any movement that aims to overthrow the existing system. Consequently, Orwell is viewed as a ‘safe socialist'—a figure respected but not necessarily endorsed.

A closer look reveals complexity in Orwell’s views. His political writings reveal deep ambivalence and unresolved contradictions, highlighting the tension between his disdain for oppression and his difficulty articulating a clear revolutionary alternative. His socialism was sincere but lacked a comprehensive theoretical framework. His anti-Stalinist stance was courageous but lacked a solid political foundation. While his critique of totalitarianism was influential, it was not sufficiently dialectical. Calling Orwell a coherent democratic socialist wrongly implies a unified perspective that his thoughts do not actually exhibit.

A Marxist historiography should therefore reject the typical portrayal of Orwell as merely a moral witness and democratic socialist. This depiction aligns more with the ideological goals of the capitalist state than with Orwell’s actual political development. Furthermore, it is important to restore the revolutionary alternative as a central aspect of the narrative—a choice Orwell rejected and that mainstream scholars often ignore.

4. Mazelis and the WSWS: Anti‑Stalinism, Centrism, and the Revolutionary Alternative

Rodden’s work provides the most sophisticated cultural analysis of Orwell’s reputation, and the predominant liberal perspective offers a simplified, sanitised view of Orwell’s politics. Fred Mazelis and the World Socialist Web Site (WSWS) offer the only approach capable of uncovering the political reasoning behind Orwell’s posthumous interpretation. While Rodden focuses on reception and mainstream narratives highlight moral character, Mazelis centres on political line—the essential element in any Marxist assessment of an intellectual’s historical importance.

Mazelis contends that Orwell’s anti-Stalinism, though courageous and sincere, lacked a basis in revolutionary Marxist ideology. Consequently, it was inherently susceptible to manipulation by the bourgeois state. This insight is a political analysis rather than a moral judgment. For Mazelis, Orwell’s ideological position consistently leans toward centrism—a hesitation to support either the Stalinist regime or revolutionary Marxists such as Trotsky and the Fourth International. It is this centrist tendency, rather than any later misinterpretation, that accounts for Orwell’s work being so effectively exploited during the Cold War.

Mazelis’ analysis begins by examining Orwell’s political affiliations. In Britain, Orwell associated with the Independent Labour Party (ILP), a centrist group opposing both the reformist Labour Party and the Stalinist policies of the Communist Party, though it lacked a clear revolutionary agenda. In Spain, Orwell was involved with the POUM, which opposed Stalinism, supported the Popular Front, and rejected Trotsky’s criticism of the Soviet bureaucracy. These political connections were intentional, reflecting Orwell’s personality: principled, contrarian, and strongly supportive of the working class, but cautious of extreme theories and opposed to what he saw as ideological “sectarianism.”

Mazelis’ critique is incisive, arguing that Orwell’s ties to the working class were "more rooted in emotion and sentiment than in scientific conviction.” This doesn't call into question Orwell’s sincerity but highlights the limits of a politics driven by moral intuition rather than revolutionary theory. While Orwell’s intense opposition to oppression was evident, his lack of a Marxist understanding of the state, class struggle, and bureaucratic decline meant his anti-Stalinism lacked political depth. He recognised the Soviet bureaucracy's abuses but couldn't explain their roots, condemned totalitarianism but failed to propose a revolutionary alternative.

This political flaw had real consequences. Orwell’s failure to recognise the Fourth International as the compassionate third camp, positioned between Stalinism and capitalism, confined him to the ideological framework of the Popular Front. Although he opposed Stalinism, he believed bourgeois democracy was the only viable alternative. Consequently, he later provided the British Foreign Office’s Information Research Department (IRD), an openly anti-communist propaganda agency, with a list of individuals suspected of Stalinist sympathies. Orwell’s collaboration with the IRD was a logical outcome of his political stance—which rejected revolutionary Marxism in favour of a “lesser evil” alternative to Stalinism—rather than a sign of personal weakness or confusion.

Mazelis’ critique of Animal Farm and Nineteen Eighty-Four is based on the same logic. He argues that while these works strongly denounce bureaucratic tyranny, they lack the specific programmatic focus needed to condemn capitalist exploitation as well. Their critique of totalitarian regimes remains broad and abstract, not anchored in particular historical contexts. As a result, they can be—and have been—exploited by the bourgeois state as tools against socialism. This misapplication isn't due to Orwell’s intent, but to his political viewpoint creating the possibility.

Mazelis’s analysis emphasises the strong link between Orwell’s political contradictions and the larger crisis affecting the international socialist movement. For Mazelis, Orwell’s centrism reflects more than a personal preference; it signals a broader political confusion stemming from the Stalinist decline of the Soviet Union and the collapse of the Comintern as a revolutionary organisation. Orwell’s lack of support for the Fourth International reveals the ideological pressures of his time but also shows the limits of a politics driven by ethical instinct rather than revolutionary theory.

Mazelis’ analysis is essential to any Marxist understanding of Orwell, as it reintroduces the revolutionary viewpoint Orwell dismissed and mainstream scholars often overlook. It clarifies both Orwell’s objections and what he overlooked. Moreover, it reveals the political logic behind the ideological exploitation of Orwell’s work: rather than misrepresenting him, the ruling class has manipulated the contradictions in his own politics.

Mazelis’ framework provides the basic theory for analysing Orwell’s influence. It emphasises that discussions of Orwell’s importance are closely tied to broader debates about the meaning of socialism. Furthermore, it paves the way for the next stage of analysis by recognising that Rodden, the mainstream tradition, and Mazelis all hold fundamentally different ideas about ideology.

5. Three Theories of Ideology: Why the Historiography Cannot Be Reconciled

The earlier sections showed that Rodden, the mainstream liberal tradition, and Mazelis/WSWS hold markedly different views on Orwell’s politics and legacy. Yet, their disagreement extends beyond mere interpretation or academic focus. The core difference lies in their fundamental understanding of ideology—what it is, how it operates, and how it shapes the relationship between a writer’s work and its historical backdrop. These divergent notions are incompatible, resulting in not only contrasting views of Orwell but also entirely different analytical objects. A Marxist historiography must recognize that the field is influenced by three conflicting theories of ideology: as reception, as moral stance, and as political line. Each theory leads to a different version of Orwell, with each fulfilling a unique ideological role in the present context.

A. Rodden: Ideology as Reception

Rodden’s theory is grounded in the idea that meaning is constructed after the text’s creation, during reception, circulation, and cultural recontextualization. According to this perspective, the author’s political beliefs are less significant than the ways their work is subsequently employed; ideology operates through institutions such as publishers, cultural bureaucracies, and media networks; and the crucial phase occurs after the author’s death, when “Orwell” becomes a symbolic resource.

This theory allows Rodden to analyse Orwell’s reputation in detail, but it also overlooks the political dimensions of Orwell’s anti-Stalinism. Since ideology primarily emerges from how Orwell is perceived, the internal contradictions in Orwell’s politics are considered less important. As a result, the Cold War perspective on Orwell is viewed more as a cultural phenomenon than a purely political one. Rodden’s Orwell is therefore a passive figure, seen as a writer whose work is shaped by external influences. While this perspective helps explain how reputation operates, it does not clarify why Orwell’s work was so easily reinterpreted from the outset.

B. The Mainstream Tradition: Ideology as Moral Stance

The mainstream liberal and social-democratic tradition perceives ideology differently—as connected to personal ethics, moral clarity, and political decency rather than as a structural force. In this view, Orwell’s socialism is regarded as an ethical position rather than a set of theoretical beliefs. Anti-Stalinism is seen as a moral victory rather than a particular political stance. Any inconsistencies in Orwell’s thoughts are interpreted as signs of integrity rather than political inconsistency.

This theory allows mainstream scholars to see Orwell as a moral witness, valued for his honesty and decency. It also distances Orwell’s anti-Stalinism from the revolutionary tradition, which might have given it more coherence. By presenting ideology as a moral stance, the mainstream view elevates Orwell to a figure beyond political conflicts—a writer whose insights are widely relevant and whose warnings are timeless. This highlights Orwell's role in liberal political culture: as a safe socialist critic of injustice who does not threaten the capitalist system. However, this perspective systematically omits Trotsky and the Fourth International, whose presence would expose the political limits of Orwell’s anti-Stalinism and demonstrate that ethical socialism alone cannot prevent bureaucratic decline.

C. Mazelis/WSWS: Ideology as Political Line

Mazelis and the WSWS follow a traditional Marxist understanding of ideology, viewing it as a reflection of one's political stance—specifically, their position within class struggle—rather than merely perceptions or morals. In this framework, anti-Stalinism holds significance only when based on a revolutionary program. The crucial issue is not Orwell's personal sentiments but the political alternative he offered. Additionally, centrism is not just a moderate position; it is a structural attitude that naturally results in political capitulation.

This theory clarifies why Orwell’s anti-Stalinism, even if sincere, was politically constrained. It also illustrates how the bourgeois state could adopt Orwell’s ideas. Since Orwell rejected Trotsky’s revolutionary approach, he lacked a firm foundation to oppose Stalinism beyond endorsing the “lesser evil” of bourgeois democracy. Consequently, Orwell is not merely a misinterpretation or moral observer but a complex figure reflecting the crisis within the global socialist movement. Thus, Orwell's ideological role is closely tied to his political limitations.

D. Why These Frameworks Cannot Be Reconciled

These three interpretations of Orwell present conflicting images: Rodden’s Orwell is a cultural figure shaped by posthumous memory. The mainstream view portrays Orwell as a moral exemplar with unwavering ethical beliefs. Mazelis’ depiction shows Orwell as a centrist navigating contradictions that seem fitting. These images are incompatible because their underlying ideologies clash. Rodden’s reception-based model does not account for Orwell’s anti-Stalinist political stance. The mainstream moral narrative fails to explain the contradictions in Orwell’s politics. Similarly, the Marxist view cannot accept the liberal notion of Orwell as a straightforward democratic socialist.

A Marxist historiography should avoid attempting to unify these diverse traditions. Instead, it must recognize that discussions about Orwell’s significance fundamentally revolve around the meaning of ideology—and, by extension, the fundamental concepts of socialism, anti-Stalinism, and revolutionary politics.

6. The Structural Ambiguity of Orwell’s Politics

To grasp why Orwell’s work remains ideologically adaptable—how the Cold War state could readily utilize it and why it continues to serve as a rhetorical device for both liberalism and conservatism—we must examine the fundamental structural ambiguity in Orwell’s politics. This ambiguity wasn’t caused by personal inconsistency or internal psychological conflict. Rather, it originated from a political position that rejected Stalinism but did not endorse the revolutionary alternative presented by Trotsky and the Fourth International.

The ambiguity originated from a form of socialism rooted more in ethical sentiments than in scientific analysis, coupled with anti-Stalinism that lacked a clear program. It also involved a critique of totalitarianism that was not dialectical enough to fully understand the link between bureaucratic control and capitalist exploitation. This ambiguity manifested in three interconnected areas: Orwell’s perspective on socialism, his critique of Stalinism, and his understanding of the capitalist state.

A. Socialism as Ethical Sentiment

Orwell’s socialism was authentic and emotionally driven, grounded in a genuine connection to the working class. However, it lacked in-depth theoretical foundation. It was not founded on Marxist analysis of class struggle, the state, or capitalist accumulation. Instead, it was motivated by a moral intuition: the belief that ordinary people deserve dignity, fairness, and a decent standard of living. This ethical view of socialism gave Orwell a deep sense of injustice, but it did not provide a concrete revolutionary strategy.

This explains why Orwell was able to write *The Road to Wigan Pier*, a compelling critique of working-class poverty and bourgeois hypocrisy, without endorsing a specific plan for socialist reform. It sheds light on his criticism of the Labour Party’s cautious stance while also remaining cautious of revolutionary groups. As a result, his political writings often oscillate between radical critique and pragmatic reform. Ethical socialism, although admirable, is inherently fragile. It lacks the theoretical frameworks to analyze the state as a tool for class domination, to grasp the necessity of revolution in history, or to understand how bureaucratic systems can deteriorate. Consequently, liberalism can easily adopt it, embracing its moral critique but dismissing its political implications.

B. Anti‑Stalinism Without Revolutionary Anchoring

Orwell’s opposition to Stalin was courageous and, in many respects, ahead of its era. His experience in Spain exposed the brutal reality of the Stalinist regime, and his writings on the Moscow Trials, purges, and the suppression of POUM serve as strong condemnations of Stalinist repression. Nonetheless, Orwell’s anti-Stalin position was not based on a solid political foundation. Although he viewed Stalinism as a betrayal of socialism, he did not employ the revolutionary Marxist analysis that explains this betrayal.

Orwell’s opposition to Trotskyism was based not on an in-depth critique of Trotsky’s perspectives on the Soviet bureaucracy but on a suspicion of what he perceived as ideological “sectarianism” and a rigid, doctrinal stance among Trotskyists. This suspicion prevented Orwell from recognizing that Trotsky’s critique of Stalinism went beyond mere doctrinal disputes; it was an in-depth analysis of how the bureaucracy caused the workers’ state to decline.

Orwell opposed Stalinism but didn't fully understand its origins. Although he recognized signs of bureaucratic tyranny and shown how totalitarian control functioned, he failed to explain why the Soviet state had transformed. This lack of insight led Orwell to be influenced by the liberal perspective that Stalinism was an inevitable outcome of revolutionary aims—an interpretation endorsed by the Cold War authorities.

C. A Critique of Totalitarianism Without a Critique of Capitalism

Orwell's political ambiguity is most evident in Animal Farm and Nineteen Eighty-Four. These works critically examine bureaucratic control, surveillance, and ideological manipulation but remain open-ended politically. Their critique of totalitarianism is general and not linked to any particular historical period. While they illustrate how domination operates, they do not identify the specific class forces involved. They portray the horrors of bureaucratic regimes without distinguishing between the decline of a workers’ state and the authoritarian features of capitalist democracies.

This indeterminacy serves more than a literary purpose; it underscores the limits of Orwell’s political outlook. Lacking a Marxist critique of the capitalist state, Orwell did not recognize how thoroughly mechanisms like surveillance, propaganda, and ongoing war were woven into the fabric of liberal democracies of his time. As a result, Nineteen Eighty-Four was frequently seen as a warning primarily about Soviet totalitarianism, neglecting its implications for the United States and Britain.

The Cold War government didn't distort Orwell’s work; rather, it exploited its ambiguity. *Animal Farm* and *Nineteen Eighty-Four* served as anti-communist instruments because they lacked a definite stance that would also criticize capitalist control. Their political ambiguity increased their usefulness for ideological aims.

D. The Logic of Appropriation

Orwell’s political ambiguity stems from a structural flaw that made it easy for the ruling class to co-opt his work. This wasn't because Orwell was reactionary—he was not. Nor was it due to the CIA and the Book-of-the-Month Club being particularly shrewd—though they certainly were. Instead, it was because Orwell’s political framework contained an ideological gap that the bourgeois state could exploit. Ethical socialism can be absorbed by liberalism, and anti-Stalinism without a revolutionary basis can be redirected against socialism itself. A critique of totalitarianism that overlooks capitalism can be used to justify the capitalist state. This logic explains Orwell’s posthumous fate: the ruling class didn't need to falsify Orwell, only to emphasize certain parts of his work.

7. The Revolutionary Counterfactual: The Orwell Who Never Existed

To fully grasp Orwell’s political contradictions, we must consider the elusive figure that haunts his work but never appears: the Orwell who might have embraced Trotsky and the Fourth International’s revolutionary Marxist path. This isn’t a trivial counterfactual; it serves as a tool to clarify history. Reconstructing the political worldview Orwell rejected uncovers the limits of the one he inhabited. Envisioning the Orwell who could have existed allows us to better understand the Orwell that was.

This exercise does not intend to categorize Orwell as a Trotskyist or imply he was nearing revolutionary Marxism. Historical evidence indicates Orwell strongly disliked Trotskyism, mainly because he saw it as excessively rigid and doctrinal. Nonetheless, this aversion originated from the political confusion caused by Stalinist corruption in the Soviet Union and the weakening of the Comintern as a revolutionary force. Orwell’s opposition to Trotskyism was not founded on an in-depth critique but was shaped by the ideological chaos of his time.

A revolutionary Orwell—who considers the Fourth International as the true successor of the October Revolution—would have a markedly different body of work than the one we recognize today. This Orwell would view Stalinism not as an inevitable outcome of socialism but as a bureaucratic counter-revolution. He would understand that the crimes of the Soviet bureaucracy are not based on Marxist principles but are carried out by a parasitic elite that hijacked the achievements of 1917. Moreover, he would see that fighting Stalinism requires bolstering revolutionary politics rather than abandoning them.

This recognition would have significantly altered Orwell’s key works. Instead of viewing Animal Farm as a general allegory of power’s corrupting nature, it would have been a precise critique of the specific decline of the workers’ state in history. The book would emphasize not just the deception of Stalinist leaders, but also the political motivations behind the Popular Front, the suppression of the Left Opposition, and the betrayal of the global working class. It would have endorsed the October Revolution, rather than lament its failures.

Nineteen Eighty-Four would have been quite different if it focused more on materialist views of the state rather than just philosophical ideas about power. It would have shown how both capitalist democracies and Stalinist regimes display authoritarian traits. The novel also would have pointed out that control mechanisms—like continuous warfare, ideological influence, and shaping consent—are not only used by totalitarian governments but are essential features of imperialist capitalism.

The Cold War regime would likely have struggled to confiscate these works, as they challenged both the Stalinist bureaucracy and capitalist elites. Such writings would have aligned Orwell more with revolutionary Marxism than with the liberal anti-communists who linked to him after his death. As a result, Orwell would have been viewed as a threat to the status quo rather than a symbol of its ideological triumph.

The absence of this imagined Orwell—the Orwell who never truly existed—is thus significant historically. It reveals the limits of the real Orwell’s views, showing that his political contradictions were not just personal but also structural. These contradictions arose from a stance that opposed Stalinism yet did not fully support the revolutionary alternative. This highlights that Orwell’s work, despite its impact, was shaped by the crisis within the international socialist movement and the ideological pressures of the Popular Front. Furthermore, it suggests that Orwell's ideological arguments are closely linked to the political choices he made—and those he was unable to make.

Rebuilding the Orwell who never was involves revisiting the revolutionary vision Orwell overlooked. It requires acknowledging that the fight against Stalinism was not opposition to socialism but a struggle for it. Understanding that Orwell’s failure to see this distinction is key to grasping his work and legacy. This perspective leads to the article's final point: the discussion about Orwell’s importance ultimately mirrors a broader debate about the meaning of socialism.

8. Conclusion: Orwell, Anti‑Stalinism, and the Meaning of Socialism

For a long time, two misconceptions have shaped the way Orwell's history is perceived: the idealized image of Orwell as a moral figure held by liberals, and scholars' reluctance to confront the political contradictions in his work. Rodden’s *Becoming George Orwell* provides a nuanced attempt to contextualize Orwell’s reputation after his death, but it still is influenced by the same ideological lens it seeks to critique. By framing appropriation as how Orwell's work is received rather than how it was created, Rodden inadvertently supports the notion that Orwell’s political beliefs were consistent. and that the Cold War only distorted them. This belief is not only analytically flawed but also obscures the political reasoning behind Orwell’s enduring posthumous influence.

The mainstream liberal and social-democratic view even elevates Orwell to a secular saint of “democratic socialism." His moral integrity is often viewed as justifying any lack of political consistency. This perspective emphasizes Orwell’s ethical values but downplays the revolutionary context necessary to understand his anti-Stalinist stance. It commends Orwell’s critiques of totalitarian regimes but neglects his criticisms of capitalism. The focus tends to be on *Animal Farm* and *Nineteen Eighty-Four*, while works like *The Road to Wigan Pier* and *Homage to Catalonia* are often overlooked. Moreover, it usually excludes Trotsky and the Fourth International, whose inclusion would highlight the shortcomings of Orwell’s ethical socialism and demonstrate that moral instincts alone cannot solve bureaucratic decline.

Conversely, Mazelis and the WSWS highlight the political element often overlooked or dismissed by Rodden and mainstream discourse. They argue that anti-Stalinism holds significance only when it’s connected to a revolutionary goal. While Orwell genuinely opposed Stalinism, he did not do so with a revolutionary purpose. His political affiliations — including the ILP and POUM — placed him among centrist groups that distanced themselves from both Stalinism and revolutionary Marxism. His resistance to Trotskyism stemmed more from a suspicion of strict ideological loyalty than from a thorough engagement with Trotsky’s ideas. Orwell's socialism was motivated by ethics rather than theory, sentimental rather than scientific. Although his critique of totalitarianism was powerful, it lacked the dialectical nuance needed to analyze authoritarian features in capitalist democracies.

This structural ambiguity—ethical socialism without revolutionary theory, anti-Stalinism without revolutionary roots, and a critique of totalitarianism without addressing capitalism—explains why the ruling class easily co-opted Orwell’s work. The Cold War state didn’t distort Orwell; it exploited the contradictions within his politics. 'Animal Farm' and 'Nineteen Eighty-Four' served as anti-communist tools because they lacked a clear stance condemning capitalist domination. Orwell’s ethical socialism was compatible with liberalism, as it did not threaten capitalism. His anti-Stalinism could be used against socialism by lacking a revolutionary alternative. Similarly, his critique of totalitarianism was exploited by opponents because it didn’t fully address the link between bureaucratic control and capitalist exploitation.

Imagining an alternative Orwell—one who might have backed the Fourth International—highlights the significance of this analysis. Such an Orwell would have produced anti-Stalinist writings that the bourgeois state could not suppress. He would have supported the October Revolution while denouncing the crimes of the Stalinist bureaucracy. He would have viewed the fight against Stalinism as a struggle for socialism, not against it. Additionally, he would have recognized that the control mechanisms in Nineteen Eighty-Four are not exclusive to totalitarian regimes but are rooted in imperialist capitalism.

The missing version of Orwell—the one who never existed—exposes the limitations of the Orwell who did. It highlights that Orwell’s political contradictions were not just personal but structural, stemming from a stance that opposed Stalinism but did not support the revolutionary alternative. Despite his powerful work, Orwell's writings were influenced by the crisis within the international socialist movement and the ideological pressures of the Popular Front. Additionally, his ideological perspectives are closely linked to the political decisions he made—and those he was unable to make.

A Marxist historiography should therefore reject the liberal myth that Orwell was the sole conscience of the twentieth century. It must also dismiss the academic view that Orwell’s politics were consistent or that his anti-Stalinism can be separated from the revolutionary alternative he misunderstood. Furthermore, it should reject the comforting notion that depicting Orwell's image distorts his ideas, when in reality, it highlights the contradictions in his worldview.

The main issue isn't simply Orwell's intentions or interpretations, but what he couldn't anticipate. The clear answer is that the Fourth International was the only consistent opposition to both Stalinism and capitalism in the twentieth century. Overlooking this aspect in Orwell's history omits its core. Acknowledging it shows that the debate about Orwell’s legacy mainly hinges on the true definition of socialism.

Notes

The Spectre Haunting Orwell Studies-John Rodden-The Orwell Society Journal 27 Spring 2026

 

Cromwell, the English Revolution, and the Global Genesis of Capitalist Modernity:

A Marxist Analysis of Historical Falsification and the Crisis of Bourgeois Historiography

Part I: The English Revolution and the Crisis of Historical Consciousness

1. The Political Stakes of Historical Interpretation

The seventeenth-century English Revolution holds a special place in human history. It marked the first successful overthrow of a feudal monarchy by a rising bourgeoisie and the first time a king was executed by his own people. It also represented the first continuous effort to establish a political system based not on divine right but on the secular needs of property, trade, and the growing global market. Essentially, it was the foundational moment of the modern world.

In today's era—defined by the accelerating crisis of global capitalism, the breakdown of democratic institutions, and the resurgence of authoritarian governance—the English Revolution has been systematically misrepresented. The bourgeoisie, faced with the effects of its own historical decline, avoids acknowledging its revolutionary roots. It aims to hide the truth that its rise to power was not the result of slow reforms or constitutional changes, but was achieved through violent upheavals, mass mobilisation, and the overthrow of the old order.

The debate over Cromwell's role in history is mainly a political contest regarding the interpretation of revolution. The bourgeoisie, facing a legitimacy crisis not seen since the early 20th century, struggles to accept its revolutionary origins. It tends to dismiss, downplay, or psychologize the English Revolution to preserve the illusion that social change happens through parliamentary politics, constitutional stability, and gradual reforms. In reality, the bourgeoisie seized power via insurrection, civil war, and severe suppression of radical left movements—actions that are unacceptable to a ruling class now cautious of the working class's revolutionary capacity. Hence, the distortion of the English Revolution is shaped by current political interests.

2. The Bourgeoisie Renounces Its Own Revolution

The bourgeoisie's ideological shift away from its revolutionary roots is a notable aspect of modern historical consciousness. In the 1800s, liberal historians like Macaulay praised the English Revolution as a victory for liberty over tyranny, Parliament over monarchy, and reason over superstition. At that time, the bourgeoisie, still convinced of its historical purpose, upheld the revolutionary aspects of its history.

However, as capitalism advanced into its imperialist stage—characterised by worldwide competition, colonial control, and the rise of the working class as a distinct political entity—the bourgeoisie began to distance itself from the revolutionary violence that had initially elevated it. By the mid-20th century, amid the rise of fascism, Stalinism, and the Cold War, the bourgeoisie had completely dissociated from revolutionary ideals. Its historians shifted focus, highlighting continuity, moderation, and constitutional principles.

In the late 20th and early 21st centuries, this stance shifted toward outright denial. Revisionist scholars—such as John Morrill and Mark Kishlansky—contend that the English Revolution was not truly a revolution. Instead, they describe it as a “war of religion,” a “crisis of authority,” or simply a “series of misunderstandings." They minimise class conflict, dismiss mass mobilisation, regard the Levellers as a statistical anomaly, and depict Cromwell as a devout soldier caught in uncontrollable circumstances. This historiographical counter-revolution reflects the political interests of a ruling class that fears the resurgence of revolutionary movements. To deny the English Revolution is to deny the possibility of revolution today.

3. The Liberal-Biographical Tradition: Fraser and the Humanisation of Power

Antonia Fraser’s *Cromwell: Our Chief of Men* illustrates the liberal-biographical method. Fraser depicts Cromwell as a man driven by a strong conscience, a conflicted Puritan whose moral integrity is central to his greatness. The revolution acts as a backdrop that reveals his personality. This method plays three key ideological roles: it personalises structural change by framing class conflict through character; it moralises colonial violence by viewing Cromwell’s Irish atrocities as tragic yet somewhat understandable; and it limits the revolution’s focus to the development of English constitutional identity.

Fraser’s biography is not just inadequate; it is also politically reactionary. It portrays Cromwell — the military leader of a bourgeois revolution — as a tragic hero whose actions are only understandable through personal faith and psychological nuances. The masses vanish; class conflict is overlooked; the revolution turns into a moral story rather than a social upheaval. This exemplifies the ideological role of bourgeois biography: to humanise authority, sentimentalise violence, and conceal the structural forces driving history.

4. The Marxist Tradition: Hill, Manning, and the Restoration of Class

The Marxist tradition, chiefly represented by Christopher Hill and Brian Manning, opposes this falsification. Hill’s work is the most significant Marxist contribution to understanding the English Revolution. He reestablished the importance of the masses in history, highlighted the class dynamics in the conflict, and uncovered the ideological role of Puritanism.

Hill’s Cromwell is not a heroic figure but the political representative of the gentry faction within the emerging bourgeoisie. The Levellers are not just a fringe group but the revolutionary left of the movement. The New Model Army functions as a political entity rather than merely a military force.

Hill’s Marxism was influenced by the national scope of the Communist Party Historians’ Group. His view of revolution is centred on England, not the global context; his concept of bourgeoisie is confined to the nation, not the international scene; and his analysis stops short of framing the English Revolution within the broader emergence of capitalism worldwide.

In contrast, Manning’s work is more radical and considers wider international effects. He emphasises the importance of the lower classes, such as artisans, small producers, and soldiers, who played a key role in the revolutionary movement. Manning portrays the Levellers as a mass movement rather than a fringe group. He contends that the revolution was incomplete because the bourgeoisie feared that the lower classes’ democratic ambitions could threaten their interests.

Together, Hill and Manning exemplify the peak of Marxist historiography on the English Revolution. However, their work needs to be expanded, enhanced, and connected more broadly internationally.

5. The Internationalist Breakthrough: Pashukanis, Slaughter, and the World-Systemic Perspective

The most sophisticated Marxist analysis of the English Revolution does not originate from British Marxist historians but from the internationalist perspective crafted by the Trotskyist movement. Evgeny Pashukanis offers the key theoretical insight: the bourgeois revolution generates the legal subject, embodying the juridical expression of the commodity form. Cliff Slaughter, working within the International Committee of the Fourth International, provides the only fully coherent Marxist interpretation of the revolution. He situates the revolution within the global rise of capitalism rather than solely within England's national development.

For Slaughter, Cromwell’s Irish campaign exemplifies primitive accumulation rather than a mere military conflict. In the end, the bourgeois revolution is viewed as a fundamental historical break that goes beyond just a constitutional change. This internationalist view shows the English Revolution as part of a worldwide process, including the shift from feudalism to capitalism, the rise of the global market, and the development of the modern state.

6. The Contemporary Relevance of the English Revolution

The political lessons from the English Revolution remain relevant today, directly addressing the current crisis of capitalism. The bourgeoisie rejects its revolutionary roots because it is now afraid of revolution. Liberal historians tend to sentimentalise Cromwell, as they avoid confronting the violence that accompanies capitalist growth. Revisionists omit the masses to prevent the resurgence of mass politics. Marxists emphasise the revolutionary nature of the seventeenth century because the working class needs to understand how ruling classes ascend and decline within historical processes. The English Revolution demonstrates that no ruling class relinquishes power voluntarily, that the masses make revolutions, and that the bourgeoisie, once victorious, turns ruthlessly against those who carried it to power.

Part II: The World-Systemic Origins of the English Revolution

1. The English Revolution as a Product of Global Transformation

Viewing the English Revolution as a global event requires rejecting the narrow, nationalist viewpoint common in both liberal and revisionist histories. It was not merely an isolated act of English exceptionalism or a simple domestic struggle over constitutional issues. Instead, it reflected a deep transformation in the world economy: the rise of capitalist social relations, the growth of the global market, and the breakdown of feudal systems across Europe.

The English Revolution must be viewed in the context of wider historical shifts from the fifteenth to the seventeenth century. These include the growth of Atlantic trade, the increase of colonial silver wealth, the expansion of international commerce, the rise of financial capitalism in the Dutch Republic, the decline of feudal rent practices, and demographic and agricultural changes in early modern Europe.

England actively contributed to these forces, serving as a key testing ground. The enclosure movement, expansion of merchant capital, emergence of a commercially driven gentry, and deeper integration into global trade networks fostered social conditions conducive to revolutionary upheaval. Thus, the English Revolution was not merely a national anomaly but an essential stage in the worldwide shift from feudalism to capitalism.

2. The Bourgeoisie Before the Bourgeoisie: The Gentry and the Transformation of Property

A common myth in English historiography is the idea that the bourgeoisie was weak, marginal, or lacked political influence in the seventeenth century. This misconception supports the revisionist view that the Civil War was driven not by class struggle but by conflicts among elites over religion and constitutional power. In truth, the English bourgeoisie was emerging within the gentry — a class increasingly connected to capitalist agriculture, commercial rents, and trade investments. The gentry were not merely feudal remnants but served as the transitional class through which capitalist relations spread into the countryside.

The transformation of property relations—such as enclosure, leasehold reform, and the monetisation of rents—led to the emergence of a class whose interests conflicted with the absolutist state. The monarchy, reliant on feudal privileges, monopolies, and arbitrary taxation, hindered the free growth of capitalist accumulation. Consequently, the clash between Parliament and the Crown was not merely a constitutional dispute but a conflict between incompatible modes of production.

3. The New Model Army and the Political Form of the Bourgeois Revolution

The New Model Army served as the crucial force behind the revolution. More than just a military entity, it functioned as a political organisation — the first modern army in history, characterised by discipline, centralisation, and a unified ideology. Its members primarily came from the upper segments of the petty bourgeoisie, including artisans, small producers, and radicalised yeomen. The Army’s political discussions — such as the Putney Debates of 1647, the petitions from the Agitators, and the Leveller manifestos — mark the earliest sustained efforts to define a democratic political agenda rooted in the interests of the lower classes. In essence, the New Model Army was the revolutionary party of the seventeenth century.

The Army also embodied the revolution's internal contradiction. While the bourgeoisie relied on the Army to overthrow the monarchy, it simultaneously feared the soldiers' democratic hopes. The suppression of the Levellers in 1649, including the execution of the Burford mutineers, marked the point when the bourgeoisie turned against the very masses that had helped it rise to power. This illustrates the core dialectic of the bourgeois revolution: it mobilises the masses to dismantle feudalism, only to repress them to secure capitalist stability.

4. Cromwell as the Instrument of Class Necessity

Oliver Cromwell’s importance in history lies less in his personal traits, faith, or psychological intricacies—common themes in liberal biographies—and more in his role as the political figure who embodied the growing bourgeois class. He served as the means for the bourgeoisie to address and overcome the contradictions arising from the revolution.

Cromwell’s measures—such as dissolving Parliament, suppressing the Levellers, conquering Ireland, and establishing the Protectorate—were motivated by the goal of stabilizing the new social order rather than personal ambition. He executed the king not out of fanaticism, but because the monarchy clashed with bourgeois interests. His crackdown on the Levellers was a response to the bourgeoisie’s fear of the lower classes' democratic aspirations, not tyranny. Meanwhile, his Irish conquest was driven by the need to seize land for capital accumulation, not cruelty. Cromwell is a key figure of the bourgeois revolution.

5. Ireland and the Colonial Foundations of Capitalism

No part of Cromwell’s legacy has been more distorted than his actions in Ireland. While some liberal historians like Fraser see the massacres at Drogheda and Wexford as tragic yet understandable parts of seventeenth-century brutal warfare, revisionists tend to diminish or relativise the violence, and nationalists often mythologise it. A Marxist perspective clarifies these distortions, showing that Cromwell’s Irish campaign was not an anomaly but a fundamental act of primitive accumulation.

The seizure of Irish land, the displacement of the Catholic peasantry, and the redistribution of property to English soldiers and settlers were crucial steps in forming a landless proletariat and a capitalist farming class. Ireland served as a testing ground for English capitalism. Cromwell’s campaign violence was driven not solely by religious fanaticism but by the inherent violence of capitalist development. The bourgeois revolution, especially in its colonial context, involved dismantling traditional property systems, expropriating peasants, and establishing a new legal and economic framework. The Irish case illustrates the global scope of the English Revolution, highlighting its links to colonial expansion, the Atlantic economy, and the creation of the world market.

6. The Restoration as the Consolidation of Bourgeois Power

The Restoration of 1660 is often seen as a failed revolution, with the monarchy returning and Cromwell’s legacy discarded. However, this view is mostly incorrect. The Restoration was more about strengthening existing gains than undoing them. The bourgeoisie had already secured key objectives: ending absolutism, asserting parliamentary dominance, protecting property rights, and establishing a legal system suitable for capitalism. The monarchy that came back in 1660 was not the same as Charles I's; it was a constitutional monarchy that served bourgeois interests.

Charles I's execution fundamentally changed the political scene. After 1649, no monarch felt truly secure on the throne. The Glorious Revolution of 1688—viewed by the bourgeoisie as their preferred revolution—was only feasible because the upheavals of the 1640s shattered the basis of absolutism. The Restoration served as the bourgeoisie’s strategy to secure the revolution's gains while limiting its radical democratic prospects. 

7. The English Revolution and the Birth of the Modern State

The modern state—characterised by centralisation, bureaucracy, secularism, and a focus on capital interests—originated from the English Revolution. During this period, feudal privileges were abolished, taxation was streamlined, a standing army was established, and a legal system rooted in property rights was developed.

The Protectorate, often regarded as a failed experiment, was in fact the initial effort to establish a modern bourgeois state. Its constitutional documents—the Instrument of Government and the Humble Petition and Advice—are among the earliest attempts to formalise the political structure of capitalist society. Consequently, the English Revolution was not just a political event but also a fundamental transformation of the state's structure.

Part III: The Levellers, the Democratic Surge, and the Bourgeoisie’s Fear of the Masses

1. The Levellers and the Revolutionary Left Wing of the English Revolution

No part of the English Revolution has been more deliberately misrepresented by bourgeois history than the role of the Levellers. Liberal scholars see them as merely a group of troublemakers; revisionists consider them an insignificant statistical blip; and Cromwell's biographers depict them as a bother he was compelled to contain. This misrepresentation is purposeful. The Levellers embody the democratic promise of the revolution—the idea that overthrowing absolutism could lead not only to property rule but also to political empowerment for the lower classes.

The Levellers were not just a fringe group but the earliest organised democratic movement in modern history. Their platform—outlined in The Agreement of the People, petitions from London radicals, and speeches by Army Agitators—called for: universal male suffrage, biennial Parliaments, legal equality, religious toleration, and the subjugation of political authority to popular consent. These demands were not mere idealistic dreams but reflected the real interests of artisans, small producers, and radicalised soldiers. The Levellers embodied the working-class foundation of the revolution—the social strata whose mobilisation enabled the overthrow of absolutism.

The bourgeoisie could not accept this wave of democracy. The Levellers’ agenda threatened the core of capitalist property rights. Allowing everyone to vote would have strengthened the lower classes; legal equality would have challenged the privileges of property owners; and popular sovereignty could have destabilised the nascent bourgeois state. Therefore, the Levellers were seen as internal enemies of the bourgeois revolution—a force that needed to be suppressed after the monarchy was overthrown.

2. The Putney Debates: The Revolution Thinks Aloud

The Putney Debates of 1647 are among the most remarkable events in history. For the first time, ordinary soldiers—artisans, small farmers, and radical democrats—challenged the political leadership of a revolutionary army and sought a voice in shaping the nation's future. These debates vividly illustrate the class tensions of the revolution. On one side were the Levellers and the Army Agitators, advocating for political equality and popular sovereignty, while on the other were Cromwell and Henry Ireton, representing the interests of the propertied classes.

Ireton’s arguments exemplify classic bourgeois ideology. He argued that political power should be linked to property, claiming those without property lack a “permanent interest” in the nation, and warning that universal suffrage could destroy social order. These points—repeated by capitalists’ defenders over centuries—highlight the core contradiction of the bourgeois revolution: proclaiming universal rights while limiting political power to the propertied. The Putney Debates marked a turning point, when the revolution became self-aware—when the common people voiced their democratic hopes and the bourgeoisie expressed its fears.

3. The Suppression of the Levellers: The Bourgeoisie Turns Against the Masses

The repression of the Levellers in 1649 was not a mere anomaly but a natural result of the bourgeois revolution. After the monarchy was abolished and traditional structures were dismantled, the bourgeoisie no longer relied on the radicalised masses. The Levellers' calls for popular sovereignty, legal equality, and democratic responsibility challenged the stability of the emerging social order, conflicting with the interests of the property-owning classes.

Cromwell’s suppression of the Levellers— arresting their leaders, destroying their presses, and executing the Burford mutineers—was not a personal act of betrayal but a class-driven necessity. The bourgeoisie needed to crush the lower classes' democratic hopes to strengthen its power. The execution of the Burford mutineers— soldiers who fought for the revolution and now demanded their deserved rights— highlights a key moment in bourgeois history. It shows that while the bourgeois revolution was progressive in ending feudalism, it was also fundamentally reactionary in oppressing the masses. The Levellers were the first victims of the bourgeois counter-revolution.

4. The Diggers and the Limits of Agrarian Radicalism

If the Levellers were the democratic faction of the revolution, the Diggers embodied its agrarian-communist spirit. Under Gerrard Winstanley's leadership, the Diggers tried to farm shared land at St. George’s Hill, asserting that the earth belonged to everyone as a 'common treasury.' Their goals—eliminating private land ownership, promoting communal farming, and establishing an equal society—were remarkably progressive for their era.

The Diggers weren't proto-socialists in today's terms, but their movement reveals the revolution's hidden potential. The abolition of feudal property relations opened the door to a more radical change—one that could have challenged not just the monarchy but also the emerging capitalist system. The bourgeoisie could not accept this threat. The Diggers were suppressed as ruthlessly as the Levellers, with their communes destroyed, leaders arrested, and their movement suppressed. Their fate highlights the limits of the bourgeois revolution: it could dismantle feudalism but not establish a society of equality. It could mobilise masses but not empower them, proclaim universal rights but fail to realise them. 

5. The New Model Army as a Revolutionary Organism

The New Model Army was the most sophisticated political institution of the seventeenth century. It stood out as the first modern army — disciplined, centralised, and ideologically united — and also marked the inaugural mass political organisation in world history. Its soldiers engaged in political debates, elected leaders, and expressed a democratic agenda.

The Army served as the revolutionary force of the seventeenth century, overthrowing the monarchy, defeating royalist armies, and enforcing Parliament's will. However, it also reflected the revolution’s internal conflict, pitting bourgeois leaders against radicalised common people. Thus, it functioned both as a tool of bourgeois dominance and as a means for democratic hopes. The suppression of the Levellers marked the point at which the Army shifted from a revolutionary entity to an instrument of the bourgeois state.

6. The Bourgeois Revolution and the Dialectic of Liberation and Suppression

The English Revolution exposes the core dialectic of the bourgeois revolution: it starts by freeing society from feudalism and mobilising the masses to overthrow the old order. However, once the bourgeoisie secures its interests, it suppresses those same masses. This pattern is not unique to England but is seen in every bourgeois revolution: the suppression of the sans-culottes during the French Revolution, the betrayal of radical democrats in the American Revolution, the crushing of the Paris Commune by the French bourgeoisie, and the repression of Chartism in the nineteenth century. The bourgeoisie acts as a revolutionary class only against feudalism; once it establishes its power, it becomes a reactionary force. The English Revolution is the earliest and clearest example of this recurring pattern.

7. The Levellers and the Contemporary Working Class

The political lessons from the Levellers extend beyond the seventeenth century and directly relate to today's working-class struggles. The Levellers were the first to try to develop a democratic agenda independent of the ruling class. Their suppression shows the limitations of bourgeois democracy and highlights the need for a separate political movement for the working class.

The Levellers’ focus on popular sovereignty, legal equality, and democratic accountability is still pertinent today. Their struggle highlights a core contradiction in capitalist society: the clash between the democratic hopes of the people and the economic goals of the ruling elite. The working class should learn from the Levellers—not by copying their policies, but by understanding how ruling classes historically ascend, strengthen, and silence the masses.

Part IV: The Legal Form, the Modern State, and the International Logic of the Bourgeois Revolution

1. The Bourgeois Revolution and the Emergence of the Legal Subject

The English Revolution not only dismantled feudal political institutions but also fundamentally changed the nature of law itself. This shift cannot be fully grasped through liberal constitutionalism, which views law as a neutral structure for politics. Instead, it is best understood via the Marxist theory of the legal form, as elaborated by Evgeny Pashukanis.

Pashukanis showed that the legal subject—abstract, equal, and formally free—represents the juridical expression of the commodity form. The rise of capitalist production relations necessitates a legal system where individuals interact as holders of rights, obligations, and property. Consequently, the law of the bourgeois state is not merely an ideological superstructure imposed from above, but a fundamental expression of capitalism's social relations.

The English Revolution marked the first time this legal form appeared in its early stages. The abolition of feudal privileges, the restructuring of taxation, the codification of property rights, and the development of contract law all reflected new social relations forming beneath political conflicts. Although often seen as technical or administrative, the legal reforms during the revolutionary era actually laid the juridical groundwork for capitalist society.

2. The Instrument of Government and the First Bourgeois Constitution

The Instrument of Government (1653), which served as the constitution for Cromwell’s Protectorate, is one of the most overlooked documents in world history. Liberal historians view it as a failed experiment, revisionists see it as an authoritarian imposition, and constitutional scholars often ignore it completely.

A Marxist perspective highlights its significance: the Instrument of Government was the world's first written bourgeois constitution. Its main features—such as a centralised executive, a standing army, regular Parliaments, and a legal system based on property—mark the earliest effort to formalise the political structure of capitalist society. The Instrument was not an idealistic plan but a practical measure for a class that seized power through revolution and sought to stabilise its dominance. The Protectorate represented the first modern state: a centralised, bureaucratic, secular system designed to serve capital's interests. It laid the foundation for the bourgeois state, which later appeared in the Dutch Republic, the United States, and revolutionary France.

3. The Humble Petition and Advice: The Bourgeoisie Seeks Stability

The Humble Petition and Advice (1657), which proposed offering Cromwell the crown, exposes the internal contradictions of the bourgeois revolution. While the bourgeoisie had toppled the monarchy, they now aimed to reinstate a modified form of it to secure the stability of the new social order.

This seeming paradox is not a contradiction of principle but reflects class necessity. The bourgeoisie needs a state strong enough to safeguard property, enforce contracts, and control the masses, yet weak enough to prevent the return of absolutism. Cromwell's proposed constitutional monarchy aimed to establish a political system that could balance these conflicting requirements.

Cromwell’s rejection of the crown—often idealised as a sign of republican virtue—actually acknowledged that the monarchy, even in a transformed state, conflicted with the revolutionary roots of the new government. The bourgeoisie would eventually reconcile this in 1688 with William of Orange’s rise to the throne under Parliamentary conditions. However, during the 1650s, the revolutionary wounds were still raw, and the contradictions too pronounced, making such a compromise impossible at that time.

4. The International Dimension: England, the Dutch Republic, and the World Market

The English Revolution should be viewed in conjunction with the Dutch Republic, which was the leading capitalist society of the seventeenth century. The Dutch pioneered financial capitalism, maritime trade, and global markets. Their political system — republican, commercial, and oligarchic — embodied the most advanced form of bourgeois governance in Europe.

England’s conflict with the Dutch during the First Anglo-Dutch War (1652–1654) was more than a fight for naval dominance; it was a clash between two models of capitalist development. The Navigation Acts, the growth of the English navy, and the proactive pursuit of colonial trade reflected England’s efforts to access the global market, which the Dutch then controlled. The English Revolution was not just a domestic upheaval but also part of the broader global contest for capitalist supremacy. England's emergence as a world power—culminating in the 18th-century British Empire—was rooted in the revolutionary changes of the 1640s and 1650s.

5. Primitive Accumulation and the Colonial Foundations of Capitalism

Marx’s idea of primitive accumulation — involving the violent seizure of peasant land, the destruction of communal ownership, and the formation of a landless working class — is crucial to understanding the English Revolution. It accelerated long-standing processes such as enclosure, the shift to monetised rents, the commodification of labour, and the growth of colonial exploitation.

Cromwell’s Irish campaign marked a pivotal point in this history. The seizure of Irish land, the removal of Catholic peasants, and the redistribution of land to English soldiers and settlers were driven more by economic motives than military needs. The violence enacted during the 1650s colonial efforts established the groundwork for Ireland's transition to capitalism and strengthened English influence across the Atlantic.

The English Revolution was both a domestic and colonial event, with internal changes closely linked to external expansion. The bourgeoisie that arose from the revolution became not only a national class but also a global player, focused on the world market and reliant on colonial exploitation.

6. The Restoration and the Completion of the Bourgeois Revolution

The 1660 Restoration is often perceived as a failure of the revolution, marked by the monarchy's return and the rejection of Cromwell’s legacy. Yet, this perspective is fundamentally mistaken. The Restoration was not a defeat but a culmination. The bourgeoisie had achieved its primary objectives: dismantling absolutism, establishing parliamentary dominance, securing property rights, and developing a legal framework suited to capitalism. The restored monarchy in 1660 was not Charles I's original monarchy but a constitutional one aligned with bourgeois interests. The execution of Charles I permanently altered the political landscape, as no monarch post-1649 could feel secure on the throne. The 1688 Glorious Revolution, favored by the bourgeoisie as a revolutionary act, only occurred because the revolutionary upheavals of the 1640s had weakened absolutist foundations. Consequently, the Restoration signified the bourgeois consolidation of the revolution's achievements. 

7. The English Revolution and the Birth of the Modern World

The English Revolution marked the first successful bourgeois revolution in history. It abolished feudalism, affirmed the authority of Parliament, developed the legal and political structures of capitalist society, and set the stage for England’s emergence as a global power.

Its importance cannot be overstated. The modern era—characterized by capitalist economies, constitutional governments, and a global market—originated from the revolutionary upheavals of the seventeenth century. When liberal and revisionist historians distort the history of the English Revolution, they do more than make an academic mistake; they engage in a political act. This distortion aims to hide the revolutionary roots of the modern world and to dismiss the potential for revolutionary change today.

Part V: The Crisis of Bourgeois Historiography and the Contemporary Relevance of the English Revolution

1. The Bourgeoisie’s Flight From Its Own Origins

The misrepresentation of the English Revolution is not just a scholarly mistake but reflects a deeper crisis in bourgeois historical awareness. A dominant class that believes in its revolutionary purpose embraces its origins, while a declining ruling class rejects them.

In the nineteenth century, the bourgeoisie maintained a sense of historical legitimacy. It celebrated Cromwell as a heroic figure who destroyed tyranny, saw Parliament as the symbol of liberty, and regarded the revolution as the basis of modern civilization. Macaulay’s *History of England* exemplifies this confidence: a triumphant narrative portraying the bourgeoisie as the rightful successors of progress.

However, as capitalism moved into its imperialist stage—characterized by international competition, colonial control, and the rise of the working class as a distinct political entity—the bourgeoisie started distancing itself from its revolutionary roots. The brutality of its beginnings was now considered shameful; the democratic hopes of the masses posed a threat; and the memory of revolution was seen as a danger.

By the late twentieth century, views had shifted to outright denial. Revisionist scholars—Morrill, Kishlansky, and their followers—claim the English Revolution was not a true revolution. They characterize it as a “war of religion,” a “crisis of authority,” or a “series of misunderstandings." According to them, class conflict disappears, mass mobilization fails to materialize, the Levellers are just a statistical anomaly, and Cromwell is depicted as a devout soldier caught in circumstances beyond his control. This historiographical counter-revolution reflects the political needs of a ruling class afraid of revolutionary resurgence. To deny the English Revolution is to deny the possibility of revolution today.

2. The Postmodern Assault on Historical Truth

The crisis in bourgeois historiography worsens with the rise of postmodernism, which rejects the idea of objective historical truth. According to postmodernism, history isn't about studying actual events but about interpreting texts; it's not about analyzing social forces but deconstructing narratives; and it's not about reconstructing the past but revealing linguistic structures.

This epistemological nihilism benefits the interests of the ruling class. Without objective truth, there is no definitive history of class struggle. If all narratives hold equal validity, then the revolutionary view of the English Revolution is just one among many "discourses." If the past cannot be known, then the future remains unchangeable.

Postmodernism reflects a bourgeoisie struggling with its own legitimacy, embodying a ruling class that no longer believes in progress, distrusts its institutions, and no longer views itself as guiding historical development. In response to this intellectual decline, Marxism emphasizes that history results from concrete social forces, that revolutions are objective occurrences, and that past events can be understood scientifically through class analysis.

3. The English Revolution and the Crisis of the Modern State

The modern state—characterized by centralization, bureaucracy, secularism, and a focus on capital—originated during the English Revolution. This period saw the abolition of feudal rights, reforms in taxation, the establishment of a standing army, and the development of a legal system rooted in property rights.

However, the modern state is facing a crisis. The institutions established by the bourgeois revolution—such as Parliaments, constitutions, legal systems, and representative bodies—are becoming less capable of handling the tensions of global capitalism. The growing wealth gap, diminishing democratic rights, increasing militarization, and the emergence of authoritarian rule expose the limitations of the political structures developed in the seventeenth century.

The crisis faced by the modern state is essentially the crisis of the bourgeois revolution. The political structures established by the bourgeoisie can no longer hold back the social forces unleashed by global capitalism. The contradictions that fueled the English Revolution—such as those between traditional and modern property, the masses and the ruling class, and societal needs versus elite interests—are reemerging worldwide today.

4. The Lessons of the English Revolution for the Contemporary Working Class

The English Revolution offers crucial lessons for today's working class, illustrating that no ruling class will willingly surrender power. The monarchy didn't fall due to persuasive arguments or constitutional constraints; it was overthrown by a revolutionary movement that mobilised the masses and dismantled the old regime's institutions. Additionally, it emphasises the vital role of the masses in shaping history. Groups like the Levellers, the Army Agitators, and the radicalised soldiers of the New Model Army were active participants rather than passive observers.

Their demands for democracy, equality, and popular sovereignty fueled the revolution. Third, it underscores the limitations of bourgeois democracy. The bourgeoisie rallied the masses to overthrow feudalism but later suppressed them to safeguard their own interests. The suppression of the Levellers, the dismantling of the Diggers, and the strengthening of the Protectorate reveal the fundamental contradiction of the bourgeois revolution: it claims to defend universal rights while restricting political power to property owners. Fourth, it emphasizes the importance of an independent political movement for the working class. The Levellers were defeated not because their program was unrealistic, but because they lacked an independent organizational base capable of challenging the bourgeoisie. Their defeat illustrates the need for a revolutionary party that can unite the masses and lead the struggle for power.

5. Conclusion: The English Revolution and the Future of Humanity

The English Revolution marked the first major bourgeois revolution in history. It dismantled feudal structures, established the modern state, and laid the groundwork for capitalist society. Its importance is immense. The modern world — characterized by a capitalist economy, constitutional governments, and a global marketplace — originated from the upheavals of the seventeenth century. However, the bourgeois revolution is now reaching its limits. The political systems it created face crisis; the social relations it fostered are no longer sustainable; and the contradictions it introduced pose a threat to humanity's future.

The working class has yet to finish the historical journey started in the seventeenth century. The initial phase was the dismantling of feudalism; the subsequent phase is the overthrow of capitalism. The English Revolution shows both what bourgeois transformation can achieve and its boundaries. It proves that masses are the agents of history, that revolutions are essential, and that the future does not lie with the ruling class but with those fighting to change society.

The task of the present is to carry forward the revolutionary legacy of the past — not by returning to the Levellers’ programme or the institutions of the Protectorate, but by building a global working-class movement capable of resolving capitalism’s contradictions and creating a new world based on equality, democracy, and human liberation.