Part I
Raquel Varela’s A People’s History of Europe is a major
contribution to modern left-wing historiography. It aims to blend the “history
from below” perspective with a broad overview of Europe’s development from the
Middle Ages to the present day. Varela’s writing is driven by a genuine
commitment to workers, peasants, and oppressed groups, and it carries a moral
urgency that sharply contrasts with the complacency and cynicism common in
mainstream academic history. However, the strengths of her approach—such as its
empathy for the exploited, focus on mass movements, and rejection of
elite-focused stories—are closely linked to its weaknesses. These issues are
not personal flaws but stem from the political and theoretical limits of the
environment in which she operates, shaped by left-reformist, post-Trotskyist,
and post-Stalinist currents that have influenced the European radical left
since the 1990s.
This essay aims to analyse Varela’s approach by comparing it
with that of three key figures: Howard Zinn, Eric Hobsbawm, and Leon Trotsky.
Zinn embodies the populist moral story of resistance; Hobsbawm's Marxism is
scholarly yet politically compromised by the Communist Party; Trotsky advocates
a scientific, dialectical, revolutionary approach that provides a clear
explanation of major modern upheavals. Varela’s work exists where these
traditions meet, drawing from each but mainly echoing the limitations of Zinn
and Hobsbawm, while remaining somewhat distant from Trotsky’s method.
This analysis is more than an academic exercise; it involves
high-stakes political issues. Addressing the crisis of global capitalism, the
rise of imperialist wars, the growth of fascist movements, and the escalating
struggles of the working class requires a historical perspective rooted in
scientific socialism. While the ‘people’s history’ genre has its strengths, it
falls short of this scope. It chronicles struggles but doesn’t analyse their
outcomes, celebrates resistance but overlooks defeats, and invokes “the people”
while hiding the crucial role of class leadership. The outcome is a history
that is morally inspiring but lacks the necessary theoretical foundations—one
that motivates but doesn’t equip.
Varela’s work aligns with the tradition set by Howard Zinn’s
A People’s History of the United States—a tradition with notable strengths and
notable limitations. The book is praised for emphasising class struggle,
general strikes, and revolutionary upheavals. Still, it is also criticised for
theoretical ambiguity and political vagueness, especially around the concept of
“the people.” The main flaw identified is that “the concept of ‘the people’ is
politically vague… [it] conflates the working class, the peasantry, the urban
petty bourgeoisie, and sections of the bourgeoisie itself.” This issue is
fundamental, as it underpins the book's entire methodological approach.
People's History
The term “the people” is not rooted in Marxist theory but is
instead a populist idea. It conceals the class conflict that shapes capitalist
societies. This concept enables historians to praise acts of resistance without
examining the underlying political goals, class makeup, or leadership of the
movements. It replaces detailed, scientific analysis with moral outrage. Furthermore,
it serves as a tool for the reformist left to avoid facing the key lesson of
the 20th century: that the outcome of revolutions depends not on the vague
notion of “the people,” but on the political leadership within the working
class.
This is where a comparison with Zinn becomes necessary.
Zinn’s "People’s History" is a passionate and compelling narrative
that highlights the brutality of American capitalism and amplifies the voices
of the oppressed. However, it does not offer a Marxist analysis. It fails to
differentiate between proletarian, populist, petty-bourgeois radical, and
bourgeois liberal movements, viewing all resistance as driven by a single moral
impulse. Instead, it presents a history that focuses on victims and heroes
rather than on class struggles or political parties. It chronicles injustice
without analysing the inherent contradictions of capitalism.
Varela adopts this framework, viewing her “people” as united
by oppressions rather than their roles in production relations. Her narrative emphasises
sympathy over theoretical analysis, highlighting the struggles of workers,
peasants, women, colonised peoples, and soldiers without exploring the class
dynamics behind these conflicts. She lauds the mass movements of 1848, the
Paris Commune, the Russian Revolution, the German Revolution, the Spanish Civil
War, and the Portuguese Revolution, but does not analyse the political
leaderships that shaped their outcomes. Consequently, her history is detailed
but lacks explanatory depth.
The difference with Hobsbawm is revealing. Eric Hobsbawm, a
highly knowledgeable Marxist historian, authored the significant "Age
of" trilogy, which is a major achievement. He comprehended capitalism's
structural dynamics, the long-term shifts in class relations, and the broader
European development context. However, his work was influenced by his lifelong
allegiance to the Communist Party, preventing him from addressing Stalinism's
crimes or the betrayals within the Communist International. Consequently, he
couldn't analyse the critical role of Stalinist leadership in the failures of
the German and Spanish Revolutions and the post-war revolutionary surge. While
his Marxist theory was profound, his political stance remained compromised.
Varela resembles Hobsbawm in her focus on long-term
processes and her sympathy for labour movements. However, she lacks his depth
in theory. She does not provide a systematic analysis of capitalist
development, class formation, or revolutionary dynamics. Simultaneously, she
echoes his political evasions by avoiding the role of Stalinism in 20th-century
defeats, the betrayals within social democracy, the political limits of
anarchism, and the essential issue of revolutionary leadership.
This is where Trotsky’s approach proves essential. His
works—such as The History of the Russian Revolution (1905), The Revolution
Betrayed, and his analyses of the German catastrophe and the Spanish
Revolution—are the pinnacle of Marxist historiography. They go beyond simple
event recounting, offering scientific analyses of society’s laws of
development. These works are rooted in dialectical materialism, focusing on the
contradictions between productive forces and relations of production, the
global nature of class struggle, and the critical influence of political
leadership.
Four principles define Trotsky’s method.
First, Trotsky's class analysis does not categorise “the
people” as a single analytical unit. Instead, he clearly distinguishes among
classes and their political tendencies, analysing the proletariat, peasantry,
petty bourgeoisie, bourgeoisie, and state apparatus as separate social forces
with distinct interests. Second, Trotsky emphasises the importance of
leadership. He believes that the success of revolutions depends on the revolutionary
party's program, strategy, and organisation. While the working class may
possess great energy and creativity, without revolutionary leadership, they
cannot seize power.
Third, Trotsky advocates dialectical materialism, viewing
revolutions as outcomes of capitalism’s contradictions. He explores the
relationship between objective conditions and subjective factors, spontaneous
struggle versus conscious leadership, and national developments in relation to
the international context—fourth, internationalism. Trotsky rejects the
national framework of bourgeois historiography. He analyses revolutions as part
of a global process. He understands that the fate of the Russian Revolution
depended on the German Revolution, that the international crisis of capitalism
shaped the Spanish Revolution, and that the defeats of the 20th century were
the result of the betrayals of the Stalinist bureaucracy on a world scale.
This approach highlights the weaknesses in Varela’s method,
especially evident in her analysis of the Portuguese Revolution of 1974–75. The
document emphasises this event as the critical test of her historiography. It
states that the revolution “was ultimately contained and betrayed through the
intervention of the Portuguese Communist Party… and the Socialist Party, with
the complicity of the trade union bureaucracy.” This analysis aligns with
Trotskyist perspectives by recognising the revolutionary potential of the
working class, the counter-revolutionary roles played by Stalinism and social
democracy, and the absence of a revolutionary party capable of leading the power
struggle.
Varela’s interpretation of the Carnation Revolution,
however, highlights the spontaneity and creativity of the masses, while
downplaying the roles of the PCP and SP in maintaining capitalism. She praises
the radicalisation of workers and soldiers but refrains from discussing
revolutionary leadership. She outlines the process without addressing its
ultimate result. Her account depicts a struggle but lacks a comprehensive
theory of revolution.
This is the main flaw of the “people’s history” genre. It
collects evidence of exploitation and resistance but fails to analyse the
dialectical laws governing historical progress. It notes the symptoms of
capitalist crises without exploring their root causes. While it praises the
courage of the oppressed, it does not account for their defeats. It refers to
“the people” but does not analyse the class forces that influence history.
Consequently, it presents a history of victims and heroes rather than of
classes and political parties.
The outcome is a history that appeals morally but fails to
offer political solutions. It evokes sympathy without guiding strategy. It
stirs feelings of injustice without proposing specific plans for revolutionary
change. This is a significant flaw— the core limitation of the reformist left.
It explains why the left struggles to give a clear response to the crisis of
global capitalism, why mass movements often lead nowhere, and why betrayals by
social democracy and Stalinism have not been remembered as lessons. It also
clarifies why the working class lacks a revolutionary leadership.
The purpose of Marxist historiography is to analyse the
class struggle, not to celebrate "the people." Its role is to explain
resistance outcomes, not just record them. It aims to understand rather than moralise,
and to empower rather than inspire. Varela’s book, despite its virtues, falls
short of this standard. While it corrects bourgeois historiography by
highlighting the working class, it does not fully explain the class's
historical role. It recounts revolutions but lacks analysis of the conditions
needed for their success. Although it celebrates struggle, it does not
investigate leadership. It documents the oppressed’s history but does not
depict the class struggle in the Marxist sense.
Part II
Varela’s A People’s History of Europe reveals its
methodological weaknesses mostly through its narrative structure. The book
focuses on episodes of mass resistance—such as peasant uprisings, strikes,
revolutions, and anti-colonial struggles—and shows genuine sympathy for the
oppressed. However, its narrative is episodic rather than dialectical, jumping
from one act of resistance to another without examining the underlying
contradictions or the political forces influencing these movements.
Consequently, it offers a detailed account but falls short in providing
comprehensive explanations.
This episodic format mirrors the influence of the Zinn
tradition. Zinn’s People’s History presents a series of moral tableaux: the
dispossession of Native Americans, the exploitation of workers, women’s
struggles, and African American resistance. Each chapter functions as an
independent critique of injustice. However, the book lacks a systematic theory
of American capitalism or a dialectical analysis of its evolution. It doesn’t
explore the links between economic change and political institutions, class struggle
and state power, or national and international development. Overall, it is a
moral narrative rather than a scientific examination.
Varela’s approach follows this pattern by depicting the
struggles of “the people” as heroic episodes. However, she does not explore the
underlying structural dynamics of European capitalism, such as the transition
from feudalism to capitalism, the rise of the bourgeois state, the development
of the modern working class, or the emergence of imperialism as a global
system. She also overlooks the contradictions within the capitalist mode of
production and the connection between economic crises and political upheavals.
While she describes the symptoms of capitalist development, she does not
analyze its fundamental laws.
This lack of theoretical analysis is intentional, mirroring
the current European left's shift away from Marxist economic critique. The fall
of the Soviet Union, the decline of social-democratic parties, and the
emergence of post-Marxist ideas have led to a left that dismisses overarching
narratives, questions class-based analysis, and resists the idea of
revolutionary leadership. Consequently, the historiography focuses on
resistance stories while sidestepping issues of power.
This avoidance is especially clear in Varela’s discussion of
major 20th-century revolutions. The Russian Revolution of 1917, the German
Revolution of 1918–23, the Spanish Revolution of 1936–39, and the Portuguese
Revolution of 1974–75 are depicted as moments of popular mobilization, yet
their underlying political dynamics are not analyzed. The contribution of the
Bolshevik Party in guiding the Russian working class to power is recognized but
not explored. The betrayals during the German Revolution by the Social
Democratic Party are mentioned without analysis. The counter-revolutionary role
of Stalinism in Spain is acknowledged but left unexamined. The suppression of
the Portuguese Revolution by the PCP and SP is described but not sufficiently
clarified.
This is not about historical facts but about the method of
studying history. The outcome of revolutions depends not on the “people” in
general, but on the political leadership of the working class. Trotsky’s key
contribution to history shows that whether revolutions succeed or fail relies
on the working class’s ability to build a revolutionary party. This party must
offer strategic guidance, resist reformist and centrist influences, and lead in
the fight for state power. Without such a party, the spontaneous enthusiasm of
the masses cannot be turned into an aware effort to achieve socialism.
This is the lesson that Varela’s work does not fully
incorporate. Her narrative is rooted in sympathy for the oppressed, yet it
lacks a comprehensive theory of revolutionary leadership. She highlights the
courage and creativity of the masses but does not analyze the political forces
shaping their struggles. While she celebrates the Paris Commune, she overlooks
the absence of a revolutionary party capable of coordinating the effort. She
praises the militancy of German workers but fails to examine the SPD's role in
disarming the revolution. She venerates the heroism of Spanish workers and
peasants but does not address the influence of the Stalinist bureaucracy in
suppressing the revolution. Although she admires the radicalization of the
Portuguese working class, she does not examine the political mechanisms through
which the PCP and SP stabilised capitalist rule.
The outcome is a history that inspires morally but leaves
politics confused. It elicits admiration for the oppressed's struggles but
fails to explain why those struggles were overcome. It creates a feeling of
injustice without offering a clear strategy for change. While it presents a
story of resistance, it does not provide a comprehensive theory of revolution.
The difference between Trotsky’s approach and others is
clear. Trotsky’s "History of the Russian Revolution" is not just a
timeline of events but a scientific analysis of revolutionary dynamics. It
explores how objective conditions and subjective factors interact, the balance
between spontaneous struggle and conscious leadership, and the relationship
between the masses and the party. The book examines the contradictions within
the Provisional Government, the role of the Soviets, the emergence of dual
power, and the strategic choices that led to the October insurrection. It
serves as a work of historical materialism, focusing on the laws governing
societal change.
Trotsky’s analyses of the German and Spanish revolutions are
equally meticulous. He argued that the German Revolution's defeat was due to
betrayals by the SPD and the Communist Party's mistakes, not an inevitable
outcome. Similarly, he pointed out that Spain's revolution was defeated not
because of Franco's strength, but because of the Stalinist bureaucracy's
counter-revolutionary policies. He examined the political forces involved in
these struggles and the strategic choices that led to their outcomes.
This level of analysis is missing from Varela’s work. Her
narrative is detailed yet lacks explanation. She depicts the struggles of the
oppressed but fails to analyze the political forces influencing their destiny.
While she celebrates resistance, she does not explore leadership. She provides
a history of the people but not of the class struggle.
The impact of this methodological weakness is clear in her
analysis of the Portuguese Revolution. The Carnation Revolution, a key post-war
movement, saw the working class radicalize, workers’ commissions form,
factories occupied, and the colonial empire collapse, leading to dual power and
directly challenging state authority. However, this upheaval was ultimately
controlled and stabilized through an alliance between the PCP, SP, the
military, and the trade union bureaucracy.
Varela discusses the mass radicalization but overlooks the
political mechanisms that limited the revolution. She fails to investigate the
PCP's role in subordinating the working class to the MFA, nor does she analyze
the SP's defense of capitalist property relations. Additionally, she does not
address the lack of a revolutionary party capable of leading the working class
to power. While describing the symptoms of the revolution, she neglects its
underlying dynamics.
This issue is not about historical facts but about the
approach to history. To understand the fate of the Portuguese Revolution, it is
essential to examine the roles played by PCP and SP, the impacts of Stalinism
and social democracy, and the lack of revolutionary leadership. These elements
are crucial in shaping the revolution's outcome. Without considering them, the
history of the revolution remains unfinished.
Varela’s discussion of European capitalism's history shows a
similar flaw. She highlights the plight of the oppressed but fails to explore
the structural forces shaping capitalist growth. She overlooks key transitions
like feudalism to capitalism, the rise of the bourgeois state, the advent of
imperialism, and the worldwide aspects of capitalist accumulation. While she
details the symptoms of capitalist development, she neglects its underlying
laws.
This lack of theoretical analysis mirrors the political
stance of today's European left. After the Soviet Union's collapse and the
decline of social-democratic parties, the left has become wary of overarching
narratives, doubtful of class analysis, and opposed to revolutionary
leadership. Consequently, historiography tends to praise resistance while
sidestepping issues of power.
This is the main limitation of the “people’s history” genre:
it documents struggles but lacks analysis of their results. It honors
resistance but doesn’t address defeat. It refers to “the people” but downplays
the key role of class leadership. It tells stories of victims and heroes rather
than classes and parties. Marxist historiography aims not to celebrate “the
people,” but to analyze class struggle. Its goal is not just to document
resistance but to explain its outcomes. It seeks understanding over moralizing.
Its purpose is not to inspire but to equip.
Varela’s book, despite its strengths, falls short of this
standard. While it offers a valuable correction to bourgeois historiography, it
does not significantly advance Marxist theory. It reaffirms the importance of
the working class in history but fails to explain its historical role. The book
recounts revolutions without analyzing the conditions necessary for their
success. It celebrates struggles but does not focus on leadership. Although it
chronicles the oppressed, it does not present a history of class struggle in
the Marxist framework.
Part III
Varela’s historiographical approach reveals more limitations
when viewed against the backdrop of the broader crisis in historical
consciousness during the post-Soviet period. The fall of the USSR in 1991 was
seen by the bourgeois intelligentsia as the “end of history,” marking the
triumph of liberal capitalism and the ultimate overthrow of Marxism. This
ideological shift significantly influenced the academic left, leading to a
decline in class analysis, a shift towards cultural and identity-focused perspectives,
and increased skepticism about the idea of revolution. The result was a
historiography that emphasised fragmentation, contingency, and micro‑history at
the expense of structural analysis and global processes.
Varela’s approach partially counters current trends by
emphasizing the central role of class struggle, the significance of mass
movements, and the agency of oppressed groups. She rejects both liberal
historiography’s complacency and post-modernism’s fatalism, bringing the
working class back to the heart of European history. These are notable
accomplishments. However, her work is still influenced by the post-Soviet
left’s intellectual environment. It lacks the confidence found in traditional
Marxist theory, avoids discussing revolutionary leadership, and replaces the
scientific concept of class with the moral notion of “the people.” While she
celebrates resistance, she does not delve into the conditions necessary for
achieving victory.
This tension appears in her portrayal of European
development's long trajectory. Varela highlights peasant resistance to feudal
lords, artisans fighting guild restrictions, workers opposing capitalist
exploitation, and colonized peoples resisting imperial rule. However, she stops
short of analyzing the structural shifts behind these struggles. She does not
explore the transition from feudalism to capitalism, the rise of the bourgeois
state, the expansion of the global market, or the rise of imperialism as a
worldwide system. While she notes the signs of historical change, she overlooks
its fundamental mechanisms.
Her treatment of 19th-century history notably omits
structural analysis. While she links the revolutions of 1848, the unification
of Germany and Italy, industrial capitalism's growth, the rise of the labour
movement, and imperialism as interconnected events, she does not explore their
deeper dynamics. Key contradictions of capitalist development—such as the
struggle between productive forces and relations of production, the tendency of
profit rates to decline, the expansion of the global market, and intensified
class conflict—are left unexamined. Consequently, her narrative becomes rich in
detail but lacks the necessary theoretical clarity.
The contrast with Hobsbawm highlights important differences.
His series—*Age of Revolution*, *Age of Capital*, and *Age of Empire*—provide a
broad analysis of key structural changes in the modern world. They explore the
links between economic growth, political systems, and social movements, and
analyze capitalism's contradictions and imperialism's forces. Hobsbawm’s work
places European history within a global context, but it is also influenced by
his loyalty to the Communist Party. This limits his ability to critique
Stalinism’s role in 20th-century defeats, the Soviet state's decline, or the
betrayals within the Communist International.
Varela’s work lacks the theoretical depth of Hobsbawm but
echoes his political evasions. She avoids addressing Stalinism's role in the
failures of the German and Spanish revolutions, does not analyze the Soviet
state's degeneration, and omits the betrayals within the Communist
International. While she details the struggles of the oppressed, she fails to
scrutinize the political forces influencing their outcomes. Her work presents a
history of the people but does not explore the broader class struggle.
This is where Trotsky’s method proves essential. His
analyses of the Russian, German, and Spanish revolutions reveal that
revolutions' outcomes depend not on the “people” in general, but on the
political leadership within the working class. Trotsky illustrated that the
Russian Revolution's success hinged on the Bolshevik Party’s capacity to
provide strategic guidance, resist reformist and centrist influences, and
spearhead the fight for state power. He attributed the failure of the German
Revolution to betrayals by the SPD and shortcomings of the Communist Party.
Additionally, he examined the counter-revolutionary role played by the
Stalinist bureaucracy in Spain. His analysis also covered the interplay between
objective conditions and subjective factors, spontaneous action and conscious
leadership, as well as national and international developments.
This level of analysis is missing from Varela’s work. Her
narrative is motivated by sympathy for the oppressed, yet it lacks a theory of
revolutionary leadership. She highlights the courage and creativity of the
masses but does not analyze the political forces influencing their struggles.
While she celebrates resistance, she does not delve into strategy. She provides
a history of the people but fails to address the broader class struggle.
This methodological weakness becomes especially clear in her
discussion of the 20th century. While she links events like the First World
War, the Russian Revolution, fascism's rise, the Second World War, the post-war
settlement, the Cold War, and the fall of the Soviet Union as interconnected,
she does not analyze the deeper factors driving these events. Issues such as
imperialism's contradictions, the crisis of the nation-state, the influence of
the Stalinist bureaucracy, and the global capitalist accumulation are left
unexamined. Consequently, her narrative is detailed but lacks a solid
theoretical foundation.
This lack of theoretical analysis mirrors the political
stance of today's European left. The fall of the Soviet Union and the decline
of social-democratic parties have led to a left that distrusts grand
narratives, doubts class analysis, and opposes the idea of revolutionary
leadership. Consequently, historiography now emphasizes resistance but
sidesteps issues of power.
This is the main limitation of the “people’s history” genre.
It provides a record of struggles without analyzing their results. It honors
resistance but doesn’t clarify why defeats happen. While it mentions ‘the
people,’ it hides the crucial part played by class leadership. Essentially, it
tells a story of victims and heroes, rather than focusing on classes and
parties.
Marxist historiography's purpose isn't to praise “the
people” but to analyze class struggle. It aims to explain resistance outcomes
rather than just record them. Its goal isn't moral judgment but understanding;
not to inspire but to clarify. Varela’s book, despite its merits, doesn't meet
this standard. It offers a useful correction to bourgeois historiography but
doesn't significantly contribute to Marxist theory. While it restores the
working class’s place in history, it doesn't clarify their historical role. It
describes revolutions but doesn't analyze what conditions lead to their
success. It celebrates struggle but overlooks leadership dynamics. It's a
history of the oppressed, not a history of class struggle in the Marxist sense.
The comparison with Zinn, Hobsbawm, and Trotsky highlights
the strengths and weaknesses of Varela’s approach. Zinn provides a moral story
of resistance but lacks in-depth theoretical analysis. Hobsbawm presents a
structural view of capitalism but is politically biased due to his allegiance
to the Communist Party. Trotsky offers a scientific perspective on
revolutionary dynamics and emphasizes the importance of political leadership.
Varela takes inspiration from Zinn and Hobsbawm, however, remains somewhat
detached from Trotsky's ideas. This distancing is intentional, reflecting the
political stance of the modern European left, which has largely moved away from
the Marxist critique of political economy and the idea of revolutionary
leadership. Consequently, this historiography emphasizes resistance while
sidestepping the issue of power.
The purpose of Marxist historiography is to surpass this
restriction by analyzing capitalism's structural dynamics, imperialism's
contradictions, the function of the state, class struggle movements, and the
importance of political leadership. It should review past revolutions'
achievements and setbacks, recognize the betrayals by reformist and Stalinist
leaders, and identify the conditions necessary for future struggles. The goal
is to offer a scientific interpretation of history rather than a moralistic story.
Varela’s 'A People’s History of Europe' offers an important
challenge to bourgeois historiography by re-centering the working class and
questioning liberal narratives' complacency. However, it is confined by the
typical boundaries of the “people’s history' genre, lacking the depth of
historical materialism, the clear political stance of Trotskyism, and the
comprehensive structural analysis found in Marxist historiography at its best.
Therefore, it is important to study Varela’s work together
with the classical Marxist analyses by Trotsky, Lenin, and the early Comintern.
These works offer the necessary theoretical framework to understand not only
how and why workers fought and were defeated but also the lessons that can be
learned for the future.
