Leon
Trotsky: Piłsudskism, Fascism, and the Character of Our Epoch
August
4, 1932
[Writing
of Leon Trotsky, Vol. 4, 1932, New York 1973, p. 156-165]
Introduction
In
May 1926 Piłsudski carried out his coup in Poland. The nature of
this rescue operation seemed so enigmatic to the leadership of the
Communist Party that, in the person of Warski and others, it called
the proletariat out into the streets to support the marshal's
uprising. Today this fact seems quite incredible. But it went to the
very root of Comintern policy at that time. The struggle for the
peasantry had been converted by the epigones into the policy of
dissolving the proletariat into the petty bourgeoisie. In China the
Communist Party entered the Kuomintang and humbly submitted to its
discipline. For all the countries of the East, Stalin put up the
slogan "the worker-peasant party." In the Soviet Union the
struggle against the "super-industrializers" (the Left
Opposition) was being waged in the name of preserving good relations
with the kulak. In the leading circles of the Russian party, there
was rather open discussion on the question whether the time had not
come to return from the proletarian dictatorship to the formula of
1905: "the democratic dictatorship of the proletariat and the
peasantry." Condemned by the whole course of development and
discarded once for all by Lenin in 1917, this formula was converted
by the epigones into the highest criterion. From the angle of the
"democratic dictatorship," Kostrzewa reevaluated the legacy
of Rosa Luxemburg. Warski, after a certain period of vacillation,
began to step to the tune of Manuilsky's commands with redoubled
diligence. It was in such circumstances that Piłsudski's coup broke
out. The Central Committee of the Polish party had a deadly fear of
showing any "underestimation of the peasantry." They had
learned the lessons of the struggle against "Trotskyism"
well, Lord knows! The Marxists of the Central Committee summoned the
workers to support the almost "democratic dictatorship" of
the reactionary martinet.
Piłsudski's
practice very quickly brought corrections into the theory of the
epigones. As early as the beginning of July the Comintern had to
concern itself, in Moscow, with a review of the "mistake"
of the Polish party. Warski gave the report in the special
commission, under the point on information and "self-criticism":
he had already been promised complete exoneration — on condition
that he voluntarily assume the full responsibility for what had been
done, thus shielding the Moscow chiefs! Warski did what he could.
However, while confessing his "error" and promising to
correct himself, he proved completely incapable of bringing out the
matters of principle at the root of his misfortunes. The debate as a
whole had an extremely chaotic, confused, and to a certain degree,
dishonest character. The whole purpose after all was to wash the coat
without getting the cloth wet.
Within
the limits of the ten minutes allowed me, I tried to give an
evaluation of the Piłsudski coup in connection with the historical
function of fascism, and thereby reveal the roots of the "error"
of the Polish party leadership. The proceedings of the commission
were not published. This did not, of course, prevent a polemic being
developed in all languages against my unpublished speech. The
reverberations of this polemic have not died down to this day. Having
found the stenogram of my speech in the archives, I came to the
conclusion that its publication — especially in the light of the
current events in Germany — might prove to be of some political
interest even today. Political tendencies should be tested at various
stages of historical development — only in that way can their real
content and the degree of their internal consistency be properly
evaluated.
Naturally,
in the case of a speech given six years ago in a special commission,
within a ten-minute time limit, you cannot expect of it more than it
contains. If these lines reach the Polish comrades, for whom they are
indeed intended, they, as more fully informed readers, will be able
themselves to fill out whatever I have stated incompletely and to
correct whatever is not accurate.
Piłsudski's
coup is appraised in my speech as a "preventive"
(precautionary) one. This characterization may be supported in a
certain sense even today. Precisely because the revolutionary
situation in Poland did not reach the same maturity as those in Italy
in 1920 and, later, in Germany in 1923 and 1931-32, fascist reaction
in Poland did not attain such depth and intensity. This explains why
Piłsudski, over a period of six years, has still not carried his
work to completion.
In
connection with the "preventive" character of the coup, the
speech expressed the hope that Piłsudski's reign would not be as
protracted as that of Mussolini's. Unfortunately, both have been more
protracted than any of us hoped in 1926. The cause of this lies not
only in the objective circumstances but also in the policies of the
Comintern. The basic defects in those policies, as the reader will
see, are indicated in the speech — to be sure, in a very cautious
manner: it must be recalled that I had to speak, as a member of the
Central Committee of the Russian Communist Party, under discipline.
One
cannot deny that the initial role of the PPS in regard to Piłsudskism
rendered rather spectacular support to the theory of "social
fascism." Later years, however, brought the necessary
corrections here, too, bringing out the contradiction between the
democratic and the fascist agencies of the bourgeoisie. Whoever
regards this contradiction as absolute will inevitably turn onto the
path of opportunism. Whoever ignores this contradiction will be
doomed to ultraleft capriciousness and revolutionary impotence.
Whoever still requires proof of this, need only cast his gaze toward
Germany.
On
the Polish Question (July 1926)
I
wish to take up just two questions of general significance which have
been raised repeatedly in the discussion, both at yesterday's session
and today's.
The
first question is, What is Piłsudskism and how is it connected with
fascism?
The
second question is, What are the roots of the mistake made by the
Central Committee of the Polish Communist Party? By "roots"
I have in mind not matters relating to individuals or groups, but
objective ones, built into the conditions of the epoch; but I do not
thereby minimize the responsibility of individuals in any way.
The
first question: Piłsudskism and fascism.
These
two currents undoubtedly have features in common: their shock troops
are recruited, above all, among the petty bourgeoisie; both Piłsudski
and Mussolini operated by extra-parliamentary, nakedly violent means,
by the methods of civil war; both of them aimed not at overthrowing
bourgeois society, but at saving it. Having raised the
petty-bourgeois masses to their feet, they both clashed openly with
the big bourgeoisie after coming to power. Here a historical
generalization involuntarily comes to mind: one is forced to recall
Marx's definition of Jacobinism as a plebeian means of dealing with
the feudal enemies of the bourgeoisie. That was in the epoch of the
rise
of the bourgeoisie. It must be said that now, in the epoch of the
decline
of bourgeois society, the bourgeoisie once again has need of a
"plebeian" means of solving its problems — which are no
longer progressive but, rather, thoroughly reactionary. In this
sense, then, fascism contains a reactionary caricature of Jacobinism.
When
it was on the rise, the bourgeoisie could not establish a basis for
its growth and predominance within the confines of the
feudal-bureaucratic state. There was need for the Jacobin way of
dealing with the old society in order to ensure the flowering of the
new bourgeois society. The bourgeoisie in decline is incapable of
maintaining itself in power with the methods and means of its own
creation — the parliamentary state. It needs fascism as a weapon
of self-defense, at least at the most critical moments. The
bourgeoisie does not like the "plebeian" means of solving
its problems. It had an extremely hostile attitude toward Jacobinism,
which cleared a path in blood for the development of bourgeois
society. The fascists are immeasurably closer to the bourgeoisie in
decline than the Jacobins were to the bourgeoisie on the rise But the
established bourgeoisie does not like the fascist means of solving
its problems either, for the shocks and disturbances, although in the
interests of bourgeois society, involve dangers for it as well. This
is the source of the antagonism between fascism and the traditional
parties of the bourgeoisie.
It
is beyond dispute that Piłsudskism, in its roots, in its impulses,
and in the slogans it raises, is a petty-bourgeois movement. That
Piłsudski knew beforehand what path he would follow may well be
doubted. It is not as though he were particularly brainy. His actions
bear the stamp of mediocrity. (Walecki:
You're
mistaken!)
But my aim is not to characterize Piłsudski in any way; I don't
know, perhaps he did see somewhat farther ahead than others. At any
rate, even if he did not know what he wanted to do, he certainly —
to all appearances — knew rather well what he wanted to avoid,
which was, above all, a revolutionary movement of the working masses.
Whatever he did not understand, others thought through for him,
perhaps even the English ambassador. At any rate, Piłsudski quickly
found common ground with big capital, despite the fact that in its
roots, impulses, and slogans the movement he headed was petty
bourgeois, a "plebeian" means of solving the pressing
problems of capitalist society in process of decline and destruction.
Here there is a direct parallel with Italian fascism.
It
was said here (by Warski) that parliamentary democracy is the arena
upon which the petty bourgeoisie performs most brilliantly. Not
always, however, and not under all conditions. It may also lose its
brilliance, fade, and show its weakness more and more And since the
big bourgeoisie itself is at a dead end, the parliamentary arena
becomes a mirror of the situation of impasse and decline of bourgeois
society as a whole. The petty bourgeoisie, which attributed such
importance to parliamentarism, itself begins to feel it as a burden
and to seek a way out upon extra-parliamentary paths. In its basic
impulse Piłsudskism is an attempt at an extra-parliamentary solution
of the problems of the petty bourgeoisie. But in this very fact lies
the inevitability of capitulation to the big bourgeoisie For if in
parliament the petty bourgeoisie shows its impotence before landlord,
capitalist, and banker in one instance after another, on a "retail"
basis, then, in the attempt at an extra-parliamentary solution of its
problems, at the moment when it snatches up power, its social
impotence is revealed wholesale and altogether. At first one gets the
impression that the petty bourgeoisie with sword in hand is turning
upon the bourgeois regime, but its revolt ends with it handing over
to the big bourgeoisie, through its own chiefs, the power it had
seized by traveling the road of bloodshed. That is precisely what
happened in Poland. And that the Central Committee did not
understand.
The
big bourgeoisie dislikes this method, much as a man with a swollen
jaw dislikes having his teeth pulled. The respectable circles of
bourgeois society viewed with hatred the services of the dentist
Piłsudski, but in the end they gave in to the inevitable, to be
sure, with threats of resistance and much haggling and wrangling over
the price. And lo, the petty bourgeoisie's idol of yesterday has been
transformed into the gendarme of capital! The cinematic tempo of the
course of events is surprising, the appallingly rapid transition from
outwardly "revolutionary" slogans and techniques to a
counterrevolutionary policy of protecting the property holders from
the onslaught of the workers and peasants. But the evolution of
Piłsudskism is wholly according to law. As for the tempo, that is
the result of a civil war that has skipped stages and thus reduced
the time requirements.
Is
Piłsudskism "left fascism" or is it "non-left"?
I do not think this distinction has anything to offer. The "leftism"
in fascism flows from the necessity to arouse and nourish the
illusions of the enraged petty proprietor. In various countries,
under various conditions, this is done in different ways, with the
use of different doses of "leftism." But in essence
Piłsudskism, like fascism in general, performs a
counterrevolutionary role. This is an anti-parliamentary and, above
all, anti-proletarian counterrevolution, with whose help the
declining bourgeoisie attempts — and not without success, at least
for a time — to protect and preserve its fundamental positions.
I
have called fascism a caricature of Jacobinism. Fascism is related to
Jacobinism in the same way that modern capitalism, which is
destroying the productive forces and lowering the cultural level of
society, relates to youthful capitalism, which increased the power of
mankind in all spheres. Of course, the comparison of fascism and
Jacobinism, like any broad historical analogy in general, is
legitimate only within certain limits and from a certain point of
view. The attempt to stretch this analogy beyond its justified limits
would carry the danger of false conclusions. But within limits it
does explain something. The summits of bourgeois society were not
able to clear society of feudalism. For this it was necessary to
mobilize the interests, passions, and illusions of the petty
bourgeoisie. The latter carried out this work in struggle against the
summits of bourgeois society, although in the last analysis it served
none other than them. Likewise, the fascists mobilize petty-bourgeois
public opinion and their own armed units in struggle or partial
struggle with the ruling circles and the official state apparatus.
The more threatening the immediate revolutionary danger is to
bourgeois society, or the sharper the disillusionment of the petty
bourgeoisie, temporarily hoping for revolution, the easier it is for
fascism to carry out its mobilization.
In
Poland the conditions for this mobilization were unique and complex;
they were created by the economic and political impasse, the dim
prospects for revolution, and the "Muscovite" danger
connected with this. One of the Polish comrades here — I think it
was Leszczyński — expressed himself to the effect that the real
fascists were hiding not in the camp of Piłsudski but in the camp of
the National Democrats, i. e., the big capitalist party, which has at
its disposal chauvinist bands that have carried out pogroms more than
once. Is this the case? The auxiliary bands of the National Democrats
would suffice, so to speak, only for everyday affairs. But to arouse
the broad masses of the nation to strike a blow against
parliamentarism, democracy, and above all the proletariat — and to
weld the state power into a military fist — for that the party of
the capitalists and landlords would not suffice. In order to mobilize
the petty bourgeoisie of the city and countryside, as well as the
backward section of the workers, it is necessary to have in one's
hands such political resources as the traditions of petty-bourgeois
socialism and the revolutionary national-liberation struggle. The
National Democrats had not even a trace of this. That is why the
mobilization of the petty bourgeoisie of Poland could only have been
accomplished by Marshal Piłsudski — with the PPS in tow for a
certain period. But having won power, the petty bourgeoisie is
incapable of wielding it independently. It is forced either to let go
of it under the pressure of the proletariat or, if the latter does
not have the strength to seize it, to hand power over to the big
bourgeoisie, no longer in the previous dispersed but in the new
concentrated form.
The
deeper had been the illusions of petty-bourgeois socialism and
patriotism in Poland and the more impetuously they had been mobilized
in conditions of economic and parliamentary impasse, the more
brazenly, cynically, and "suddenly" would the victorious
chief of this movement fall down on his knees before the big
bourgeoisie with the request that they "crown" him. This is
the key to the cinematic tempo of the Polish events.
The
big and lasting success of Mussolini turned out to be possible only
because the revolution of September 1920, having shaken loose all the
buttresses and braces of bourgeois society, was not carried through
to the end. On the basis of the ebb of the revolution, the
disappointment of the petty bourgeoisie, and the exhaustion of the
workers, Mussolini drew up, and put into practice, his plan.
In
Poland matters did not get that far. The impasse of the regime was at
hand, but a direct revolutionary situation, in the sense of the
readiness of the masses to go into combat, did not yet exist A
revolutionary situation was only on the way. Piłsudski's coup, like
all of his "fascism," appears then as a preventive, Le.,
precautionary, counterrevolution. That is why it seems to me that
Piłsudski's regime has less chance of a lengthy existence than does
Italian fascism. Mussolini took advantage of a revolution already
broken from within, with the inevitable decline in activity among the
proletariat thereafter. Piłsudski, on the other hand, intercepted an
oncoming revolution, raised himself to a certain degree with its
fresh yeast, and cynically deceived the masses following him. This
provides ground for hope that Piłsudskism will be an episode on the
wave of revolutionary upsurge, not decline.
The
second question that I would like to take up has to do with the
objective roots of the error committed by the leaders of the Polish
party. Undoubtedly the pressure of the petty bourgeoisie, with its
hopes and illusions, was very strong in the days of the May coup.
This explains why the party at that stage was unable to win the
masses and guide the whole movement onto a truly revolutionary path.
But this in no way excuses the leadership of the party, which meekly
submitted to the petty-bourgeois chaos, floating upon it without
rudder or sails. As for the basic causes of the mistake, they are
rooted in the character of our epoch, which we call revolutionary but
which we have not gotten to know by a long shot in all its sharp
twists and turns — and without this knowledge it is impossible to
master each particular concrete situation. Our period differs from
the prewar period the way a crisis-filled, explosive period differs
from one that is organic, developing in comparative regularity. In
the prewar period, we had in Europe the growth of the productive
forces, a sharpening class differentiation, the growth of imperialism
at one pole and the growth of the Social Democracy at the other. The
conquest of power by the proletariat was pictured as the inevitable
but distant crowning of this process. More precisely, for the
opportunists and centrists of the Social Democracy the social
revolution was a phrase without content; for the left wing of the
European Social Democracy it was a distant goal for which it was
necessary to prepare gradually and systematically. The war cut short
this epoch, thoroughly revealing its contradictions; and with the war
began a new epoch. One can no longer speak of the regular growth of
the productive forces, the steady growth in numbers of the industrial
proletariat, and so on. In the economy there is either stagnation or
decline. Unemployment has become chronic. If we take the fluctuations
in the economic cycle of the European countries, or the changes in
the political situation, and put them on paper in the form of a
graph, we get not a regularly rising curve with periodic fluctuations
but a feverish curve with frantic zigzags up and down. The economic
cycle changes abruptly within the framework of an essentially
constant fixed capital. The political cycle changes abruptly in the
grip of the economic impasse. The petty-bourgeois masses, involving
wide circles of workers as well, charge now to the right, now to the
left.
Here
we can no longer speak of the organic process of development
unceasingly strengthening the proletariat as a productive class and,
thereby, its revolutionary party. The interrelations between party
and class are subject, under current conditions, to much sharper
fluctuations than before. The tactics of the party, while preserving
their principled basis, are endowed — and should be endowed! —
with a far more maneuverable
and creative
character, foreign to any routinism whatsoever. In these tactics
sharp and daring turns are inevitable, depending above all on whether
we are entering a zone of revolutionary upsurge or, on the contrary,
a rapid downturn. The whole of our epoch consists of such distinctly
marked-off sections of the curve, some rising, some falling. These
steep, sometimes sudden, changes must be caught in time. The
difference between the role of the Central Committee of a Social
Democratic party in prewar conditions and that of the Central
Committee of a Communist party in current conditions is to a certain
degree like the difference between a general staff, which organizes
and trains military forces, and a field headquarters, which is called
upon to lead those forces under battle conditions (although there may
indeed be long pauses between battles).
The
struggle for the masses remains, of course, the basic task, but the
conditions of this struggle are different now. Any turn in the
domestic or international situation may, at the very next step,
transform the struggle for the masses into a direct struggle for
power. Today you cannot measure strategy by decades. In the course of
a year, or two, or three, the whole situation in a country changes
radically. This we have seen especially clearly in the case of
Germany. After the attempt to summon up a revolution in the absence
of the necessary preconditions (March 1921), we observe in the German
party a strong rightward deviation (Brandlerism), and this deviation
is subsequently wrecked on the sharp leftward shift in the whole
situation (1923). In place of the opportunist deviation comes an
ultraleft one, whose ascendancy coincides, however, with the ebb of
the revolution; out of this contradiction between conditions and
policies grow mistakes that weaken the revolutionary movement still
further. The result is a kind of division of labor between rightist
and ultraleftist groupings according to which each one, at a sharp
upward or downward turn of the political curve, suffers defeat and
gives way to the rival grouping. At the same time, the method now in
practice — of changing the leadership with every shift in the
situation — gives the leading cadre no chance to acquire a
broader experience that would include both rise and fall, both ebb
and flow. And without this generalizing, synthesized understanding of
the character of our epoch of rapid shifts and abrupt turns, a truly
Bolshevik leadership cannot be educated. That is why, in spite of the
profoundly revolutionary character of the epoch, the party and its
leadership have not succeeded in rising to the heights of the demands
that the situation has placed before them.
Piłsudski's
regime in Poland will be a regime of fascist struggle for
stabilization, which means an extreme sharpening of the class
struggle. Stabilization is not a condition granted to society from
without, but a problem for bourgeois politics. This problem is no
sooner partly settled than it erupts again. The fascist struggle for
stabilization will arouse the resistance of the proletariat On the
soil of mass disillusionment in Piłsudski's coup a favorable
situation for our party will be created, on the condition, of course,
that the leadership is not one-sidedly adapted to a temporary rise or
temporary decline in the political curve, but embraces the basic line
of development as a whole To the fascist struggle for stabilization
must be counterposed, above all, the internal stabilization of the
Communist Party. Then victory will be assured!