Monday, November 9, 2009

November 9 and "The End of History" (not what you think it is).

Yes, OK, we all know that Fukuyama pronounced 1989 as the end of history. I remember feeling angry at the essay (without directly reading it) but before I could muster much resentment, history decided to restart on its own without asking for Fukuyama's permission. So I won't say more about it (at least not until I actually read the essay).

Instead, now that I think back, November 9, 1989 meant the end of history in a different sense. It brought about, at least for many people, in many places, the end of historical consciousness. Up to 1989, socialism had a history. A checkered one, with triumphs, defeats, tragedies and, yes, monstrous crimes, but a history anyway. It had a tradition and a future, no matter how embattled. It was the work of historical agents. This meant, of course, that capitalism also had a history, a past, a present and a future, all of them resulting from concrete actions. For some people, especially those on the "winning side" of 1989 (and those who jumped ship), all this came to an end on November 9. From that point on, socialism in all its variants stopped being a historical entity and became, well, a ghost (to paraphrase the Manifesto). Let me count the ways.

First, let's look toward the past. The "Communist era" is now a shorthand reference that lumps together 40 years (or 70, depending of where you look) in the life of millions of people. In some sense, that generalization is accurate. Every communist country experimented with central planning, eliminated much of private property, was ruled by a single-party regime that limited severely the basic freedoms of its citizens and so on. But there were significant differences across time and space. Hungary went from the ultra-Stalinism of Rakosi to the "goulasch communism" of Janos Kadar in no small part thanks to the heroic 1956 Revolution. Czechoslovakia went in the other direction, from having some degree of openness (where "some" is the instrumental word) that culminated in the Prague Spring to become a political wasteland after its crushing. Poland had in Gomulka a rather popular leader and ended in Jaruselski's martial law. (OK, Albania was always...Albania). These 40 years were full of attempts in different directions, of roads not taken. Some times, in some places, Communist regimes enjoyed a degree of legitimacy and acceptable standards of living. Apparently these days you cannot say that, but it is a fact. It is not a glorious fact, many right-wing dictatorships pull that same trick off. But it is a fact. Instead, these days Communism is seen as an alien entity (alien as in "from a different planet") that was crushing everything in sight. The notion that the citizens of Eastern Europe could form worthy endeavors in their lives, could at times forget about repression, could think of ways in which to improve the regime and (horror of horrors!) like it, is something that cannot be said now in polite company. 

The point is not to defend Communism. I never lived it and am happy I didn't. As far as I'm concerned, it is a page of history that we should not repeat. The point is that, precisely, it is a page of history. It resulted from many decisions, it related to aspirations and fears of millions of people and...isn't there a saying somewhere about what happens to those who don't know history?

The second sense in which November 9, 1989 meant the end of historical conscience is one I know a bit more closely and pertains to the future. History is about human action. Up to Nov. 9, Communism was a historical instance of socialism. Those of us who didn't like many of its aspects could keep thinking of a day when, thanks to historical agency, it would be transformed. But from that day on we are not supposed to think that way: socialism has no evolution, there is no possibility of learning from mistakes, no point in trying anything, no agency. 

In some parts of the world this predates 1989. In my corner of the woods, Colombia (as in much of the Third World), the Cold War was rained upon leftists as a huge exercise in guilt by association which is a way of denying agency. If you were a leftist, born thousands of miles away from Moscow, several years after Stalin's death, you had the blood of the Ukrainian kulaks in your hands as much as if you had signed the order yourself. As far as I remember, of all the Colombian leftists I knew back in the 80s, I can't remember anyone that was entirely uncritical of the Soviet Union. Most of them would admire this or that aspect, often many that turned out to be quite shabby once we knew better, but each one would have a pet peeve about it. (Most often the degree of repression and the appalling quality of consumer goods.) The "Communist paradise" was just a straw man of the right. As far as I could tell, Colombian leftists didn't want to turn Colombia into "Communist Russia" but into "Communist Colombia," into something different. (Not to mention the fact that Colombians had the stereotype, false as it happened, of Russians as not fond of partying...) But none of this mattered. In the witch hunts of the time, these people were not seen as agents, but as simple tools of the Soviet empire. Their views, their criticisms, their love for Colombia and its traditions was entirely irrelevant. Again, Communism did not exist in history and, therefore, its future was not part of human affairs. 

The events of 20 years ago didn't create this state of affairs, but certainly solidified it even further. To this day those of us on the left still get the same treatment. Nobody wants a return of the Gulag, but the right often sounds as if we did. (Note to self: right that superbrilliant entry you've been thinking about "slippery slope arguments.") One of the goals of this blog is, precisely, to study the possibility of regaining a sense of history for socialism, both looking to the past (with all honesty) and to the future.

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