(Intervention during the debates on the activity report of the Paris CO, November 1980)

The resignation of the Organization Commission and its activity report gave rise to severe criticisms from certain comrades. Before delving into a substantive examination of the nature of these criticisms, I wish—by approving the CO's report—to express my full and unconditional support for the tremendous work it carried out during its term.

One can imagine the astonishment of a comrade attending a section meeting for the first time, faced with the scope and severity of these criticisms. For those of us who work regularly in the Paris section, the criticism heard last week cannot surprise us. It actually seems rather toned down compared to the 'criticisms' voiced four weeks ago during a notorious meeting in which the immediate resignation of the CO was demanded. It seems especially toned down when compared to what is whispered in the hallways and circulates within—and even outside—the organization.

We must begin by recalling that one of the primary objectives of the section, in appointing the CO a year ago, was to form—in opposition to the former CO—a cohesive team that would genuinely work collectively. Today, we must answer the question—before any other: did the CO fulfill this objective? The answer can only be affirmative. And it is truly regrettable that the significance of this achievement seems to elude many comrades.

The positive record of the CO is not limited to that, for at the same time, the CO managed to ensure the continuity and coordination of the section’s overall activity. A brief enumeration is enough to be convinced of this.

External work: sale of the press and distribution of leaflets at factory gates, markets, train stations, etc.; political presence; attendance and interventions at public meetings of other groups; regular public outreach, R.P. (likely réunions publiques, i.e., public meetings); relations and participation in public meetings in Lille, Rouen, Tours, etc.

Internal work: section and half-section meetings; planning schedules; presentation and synthesis of discussions; dues collection; organizing comrades’ capacities; study days, etc.

One must take into account the particular situation of the Paris section, whose work the CO is tasked with coordinating: it is the central and most numerous section of the ICC. Within it are other commissions... whose activities inevitably have repercussions and place a heavy burden on the section. This situation brings certain political advantages by enriching the political life, meetings, and discussions of the section. But it also brings disadvantages: an excess of work and fatigue for the section's members. Whether this is good or bad is not the question. What matters is to recognize the fact and draw the necessary conclusions. Being the central and largest section entails significant responsibilities that it must assume.

Offering unconditional support absolutely does not mean ignoring weaknesses or the need for a constant effort to improve. We must first emphasize the extremely serious and troubling weakness in the sale of our press in Paris. There also still exist significant negligence and irrationalities in our work. Furthermore, there are persistent difficulties in integrating comrades into activities and tasks that go beyond the narrow framework of a local section; a certain tendency to overvalue and retreat into local activity to the detriment of general activity. It is thus inexplicable and unacceptable that the CO could have gone for months without its representative attending EC meetings and actively participating in its work. Let us recall that three years ago, in a resolution, we emphasized the need to build close links between all commissions in order to better unify our work and make the organization as cohesive a body as possible. It is an undeniable weakness that neither in BI of RI, nor in BII, do we ever find a single resolution from the Paris section on the major debates taking place within the ICC. And yet the Paris section closely follows the issues raised in the ICC, discusses them, and is among the most informed—but it seems content to do so only for itself, without feeling the need to intervene or make its opinions known to the other sections. These weaknesses, for which the CO bears a certain responsibility, are both a symptom and a contributing factor to a certain laxity that currently prevails in the section, and on which we must focus our attention.

We cannot and must not neglect or remain silent about the laxity that has manifested itself on numerous occasions in recent times—a laxity not so much in activity itself, but in the sense of responsibility among militants. It is true—and no one can deny—that the comrades of the section devote a great deal of energy and are often exhausted by all the tasks they must carry out, if only due to the obligation of organizing the many conferences, congresses, etc., and everything that entails. It is also true that all the comrades in the section are now working (the days of student free time are over), and that many have taken on heavy additional responsibilities: the birth of a child (*).

However, these are only reasons—valid, certainly—but secondary ones. The primary reason for this laxity, which borders on malaise within the section and is reflected both in the tone and content of the criticisms we have heard, lies much deeper. Its roots are to be found in a poor understanding of what a revolutionary organization is, and of the relationship that a militant must have with the organization that follows from that.

The difficulty we face in trying to respond to this criticism comes from the fact that it presents itself as a whole, a unified block in which three distinct elements are blurred together—elements which absolutely must be clearly distinguished. These elements are:

first, the total and meaningful silence regarding all the positive work accomplished by the CO, which points to a direction that should be pursued in the future;

secondly, the emphasis placed on this or that shortcoming, weakness, or real difficulty in the section’s activity—dramatized without offering any concrete, positive proposals to overcome them;

thirdly, the questioning of our conception of the revolutionary group and its relationship to the militants.

We have seen above what is at stake with the first two points, but it would be sterile to stop there and be content with a simple assessment. It is above all the third point that we must focus our attention on if we want this discussion to be a genuinely positive political moment—for it concerns the very life of the organization and the reason for its existence.

From the 'group of friends' to the political group.

We have often emphasized the organic break that occurred in the continuity of the revolutionary organization of the class. It is essential that this be understood not in an abstract way, but in its concrete development. One example that illustrates this concretely is our own history—the history of the formation of the groups that make up the ICC.

It was in the second half of the 1960s that small nuclei began to form—small circles of friends, most of whom were very young, with no political experience, living in the student milieu. On an individual level, their meeting may appear to be purely by chance. But on an objective level—the only one where a real explanation can be found—these nuclei correspond to the end of the post-war reconstruction period and the first signs that capitalism was once again entering an acute phase of its permanent crisis, thereby reawakening the class struggle. This social destabilization was most immediately felt by the youth, particularly by student youth, whose movements merely foreshadowed the inevitable clash between the real social antagonists: the Proletariat and Capitalism. In the same way, these nuclei, born in the heated atmosphere of the universities of that era—and without fully understanding it themselves—were simply expressing the working class’s need to fill the vacuum, the absence of revolutionary organization created by fifty years of reaction, stagnation in the struggle, and the exhaustion of the few groups that had survived the collapse.

Despite what the individuals making up these nuclei might have thought—imagining that what united them was emotional affinity, friendship, the desire to live out their daily lives together—these nuclei would only survive to the extent that they became politicized, to the extent that they became political groups. And this could only happen by consciously fulfilling and assuming their historical role. The nuclei that failed to reach this level of consciousness would be swallowed up and decomposed in the swamp of leftism, modernism, or would simply scatter to the winds. Such is our own history. And it was not without difficulty that we followed this process of transformation—from a circle of friends into a political group, where unity based on emotional bonds, personal sympathies, and shared daily lifestyles had to give way to political cohesion and solidarity based on the conviction that we are engaged in the same historical struggle: the proletarian revolution.

Age, the departure from student life, and new responsibilities (work, children) imply—and impose—a new sense of relationships, both political and solidaristic, which does not occur without a certain nostalgia for the relationships of the past. It is evident that the former student is less well-positioned than the worker to grasp the meaning of this change, and less prepared to understand and assimilate what it means to be a militant of their class and all that this entails. A worker who experiences hardship and hardship due to their involvement in the struggle of their class does not turn against their comrades, reproaching them for having "dragged" them into trouble—for such difficulties are a constant part of their condition. It is different for those nostalgic for the carefree life of the student, who continue to see themselves as victims of militant life.

How many times have we encountered—and this in all territorial sections—this type of individual crisis? The CCL is no exception to this kind of personal dissatisfaction crisis, which returns to visit us like the annual flu. And even if the organization is now better equipped to guard against its harmful effects, we must nonetheless never neglect the constant need for vigilance. This is why we detect, in a certain criticism voiced during the handing over of the CO’s mandate, that third element I mentioned earlier—an element which turns it into a string of grievances rather than a constructive contribution.

Brief Reply to the Grievances.

The grievances can be summarized in three main points:

1. The organization’s activity is seen—and blamed for this!—as being divided between theoretical work and practical work; noble and non-noble tasks; leaders and base members.

2. The organization is identified with the commissions, which are accused of monopolizing political life and decision-making power. Furthermore, these commissions are said to ignore the personal needs and lives of militants.

3. The commissions are particularly accused of neglecting the need for members to develop and fulfill themselves as militants.

Let us take a closer look at these grievances. Let us examine what we have to say about the first point:

a) It is undeniable that there exists—especially sustained and reinforced by the class society in which we live—a certain inequality of abilities among people, and this holds true among militants as well. For example: knowing how to write, to draft texts, to speak, to have knowledge of languages, etc. It is important not to fall into utopianism and try to create an artificial equality simply by proclaiming it—especially an equality that levels downward. In recognizing the reality of these inequalities, our task is to work toward an equalization upward, while ensuring that each comrade’s abilities are fully utilized, so that the group can fulfill its function within the class.

b) While it is true that theoretical work requires, to a large extent, personal will and effort, it is not true that there is a division within our organization between theoretical work and practical work. On the one hand, this is false because we have always made a point of encouraging all comrades to engage in theoretical work—and we have provided the means to do so: weekly meetings, study days, internal bulletins, and the press, in which all comrades are constantly invited to write (we can only regret how few actually do so). There is also the effort to build archives and a library accessible to all comrades. Regardless of which commission they belong to, comrades participate in and carry out all the practical and technical tasks of the organization—for example: selling, distributing, typing, printing, collating, mailing, etc. We challenge anyone to prove otherwise. And contrary to these fanciful claims, we can affirm and demonstrate that comrades in the commissions often devote an enormous amount of time—sometimes up to five evenings per week—to these tasks. It is this anomaly and the resulting exhaustion of these comrades—not some supposed 'monopolization' of responsibilities—that should concern us.

The leftist solution of "rotation" is an absurdity. In its own interest—and without turning specialization into a principle—the organization must know how to use skills in the most effective and efficient way possible. And when it designates certain comrades for tasks such as writing, giving presentations, or drafting reports, it is always with the aim that these be carried out on behalf of the entire organization.

c) It is absurd to see the appointment of comrades to commissions as some kind of "promotion," and to regard it as an honor or a privilege. Being appointed to a commission is a burden and entails additional responsibilities—and many comrades would gladly be relieved of them. But as long as that is not possible, it is essential that these responsibilities be carried out as conscientiously as possible. It is extremely important not to allow the real question—"Are they properly fulfilling the tasks entrusted to them?"—to be replaced by a false one, a typically leftist one: "Is there a scramble for honorary positions?"

d) It is not only the de facto division between theoretical and practical work, between theory and practice, between a leadership that decides and a base that executes, that reflects the division of society into antagonistic classes. The intellectual obsession that turns this fact into a central concern also reveals a failure to move beyond that level—remaining on the same terrain, merely flipping the coin over, but still keeping it. Take, for example, the question of inheritance: Marxists—starting with Marx himself—have always denounced the inheritance of property as one among many expressions of class society, rooted in private property. Anarchists, by contrast, made this secondary phenomenon the foundation of all injustice and the starting point of the social revolution. One need only recall that Bakunin’s first clash with Marx occurred precisely over the agenda of the Second Congress of the First International, where—unlike Marx—Bakunin insisted on making the inheritance question the central issue of the Congress and of the International. It is therefore not surprising to see what became of Chaulieu-Cardan and the group Socialisme ou Barbarie, when one remembers that they began by replacing the class struggle with the struggle between ‘leaders and led.’ All of the May ‘68ers—from the Situationists to their modernist epigones, including various other leftist currents—made this question their battle cry, which conveniently allowed them to turn their backs on the proletarian struggle and on the full set of problems it truly entails.

It is a specific trait of the petty bourgeoisie to remain trapped in phenomenalism—a perspective in which, due to its class nature and lack of historical future, it is unable to grasp a global vision. For it, the world and the course of history are reduced to a series of isolated phenomena, disconnected from one another. Its worldview is one of a static universe, and the pinnacle of its science is to observe that a given cause produces a given effect—without grasping that today’s cause is itself the effect of a prior cause, or that today’s effect will be the cause of a future outcome, let alone the constant interaction between what is called cause and effect.

The proletarian worldview is entirely different. Because it is a historical class—the last class in history—its perspective naturally tends toward a global, totalizing vision, in which various phenomena are understood as aspects or moments of a whole. This is why proletarian militancy is not conditioned by the question: "What position do I occupy?" nor is it driven by individual ambition, whether that ambition is deemed legitimate or not. Whether a militant is writing or grappling with a theoretical question, typing at a machine, printing a leaflet, demonstrating in the street, or distributing a newspaper written by other comrades—they are always the same militant. Because the action in which they are engaged is always political, and whatever the specific form of that practice, it stems from a political choice and expresses their belonging to a unified political body: the political group.

Regarding the second point of grievance, it is absolutely untrue that the organization does not take into account the material and other conditions of comrades. It does take them into account when it comes to the amount of dues, health conditions, and does not require comrades—under the banner of some absurd notion of equality—to take on responsibilities beyond their physical capacity. The same applies to personal burdens and concerns of all kinds (exams, children, etc.), which the organization cannot—nor even if it wanted to, could it—ignore. But it cannot take upon itself the responsibility for managing the personal lives and obligations of militants. That is not what it exists for. We must not confuse the political organization that we are with the "communities" so cherished in the student movement, whose sole raison d'être lies in the illusion that a few individuals, uncomfortable in their own skin, can somehow escape together the constraints imposed by a decaying society and "realize" their personal lives collectively. Just as the organization does not demand that members ask for "permission" in matters of private life (such as where to live, choice of profession, sexual and emotional relationships, or the desire to have children), likewise it has no obligations concerning the personal lives of its members. Solidarity among revolutionary fighters means something very different from babysitting so that a couple can go to the cinema in the evening.

I do not wish to dwell on this type of grievance, because more than pitiful, I find it indecent. When one knows even a little about what the life of revolutionary militants was like—not only during exceptional moments such as war or revolution, but in everyday, “normal” life—when one thinks, for example, of what the life of the militants of the Italian Fraction was like in the 1930s: all exiles, many of them expelled, living illegally, unskilled workers, unemployed, always in unstable work and housing situations, with children (and no support whatsoever from faraway families), often not even having enough to eat—these militants who continued their activity for 20, 30, even 40 years under such conditions... then when one hears the complaints and grievances raised in some of these “criticisms,” one can only find them purely and simply indecent. Instead of whining, we should become aware that our group and its militants currently live under exceptionally favorable conditions. Up until now, we have not experienced repression, illegality, unemployment, or major material hardship. That is why, now more than ever—precisely because of these favorable conditions—the militant must not be presenting personal claims, but must always be committed to offering the maximum of what they can give, without even waiting to be asked.

Let us now turn to the third point: the perceived need for individual self-development, which is supposedly hindered by the practical and technical work of the organization. One cannot simply respond—though it is perfectly true—that these are mere nonsense and false excuses. There is more to it than that. What we are dealing with here is a failure to understand that the greatest form of 'self-realization' and political development lies fundamentally in the most active participation in the life of the organization. One is not formed in universities or libraries, but through the constant revolutionary activity of the organization.

It is perhaps necessary to delve even deeper into this subject, even if it means repeating ourselves.

The conception that the class gives rise to revolutionary individuals, who then go on to form the revolutionary organization, is a narrow one—it sees the organization merely as a sum of individuals. At the root of this conception lies an individualist vision, characteristic of anarchism and naturally taken up by the student movement, which is fundamentally petty-bourgeois in revolt. "Dissent" may well be the act of an individual—but not a social revolution. This conception—where the individual is seen as the foundation of the organization—logically leads to no longer seeing the class and the class struggle as the motor of history. It is, in essence, a reprise of the bourgeois worldview of "every person for themselves," associating with others according to individual preference. It is from this conception that the false problem arises: how to resolve the supposedly constant and inevitable opposition between the individual and society.

Marxism, the revolutionary theory of the proletariat, does not ignore the individual, nor the fact that today there is indeed a real opposition between the individual and class society. But Marxism also sees—in the proletariat, which still belongs to a class-divided society—a class that carries within itself the transcendence of this division, the reestablished unity of humanity. It is therefore a class that already pertains to universality, one that already contains the universal in embryonic form.

This is why the working class sometimes gives rise to rebellious individuals who still reflect the character of a class living within a fragmented society. But as a class bearing the universal future of humanity, it gives rise above all to structured and organized bodies: these are the class’s organizations, of which political parties and groups are a part.

The same relationship that exists between a particular organism (group or party) and the class exists between the organization and the militant. And just as the class does not exist to fulfill the needs of the group, so too the group does not exist to solve the problems of the individual militant. The group is not the product of the militant’s personal needs. One becomes a militant to the extent that one has understood and committed to the tasks and function of the group.

"The party is a body of doctrine and a will to act," as Bordiga rightly said. It is to this body—the platform—and its action that each individual voluntarily joins and commits in order to become a militant.

If the organization ensures, as much as possible, the well-being of each of its members, it is above all in the interest of the organization itself—so that each of its cells may better fulfill its part for the organization. This does not mean that we ignore the individuality of the militant and their problems, but rather that the starting point and the ultimate goal is the organization, in order to allow the militant to carry out their task in the class struggle—the very reason why the class has brought them forth.

The Organization and its Structures.

Commissions are structures of the organization. They are certainly not created to satisfy the desires or curiosity of militants. They exist in order to better fulfill our collective function by rationally distributing our tasks and assigning them to specific commissions. These commissions are accountable to the collective bodies that have appointed them (...).

All members of the organization must follow the work of all commissions, at whatever level they may operate, and provide them with the support they need. The commissions, in turn, must take into account the opinions, suggestions, and criticisms expressed during discussions. However, they can only follow the decisions of the Assembly that directly appointed them and to which they are formally accountable for the tasks entrusted to them.

On this subject, I must say a few words about the incident that arose from the printing, assembly, and mailing of the latest international bulletin, and in response to the criticisms that sought to censure the Secretariat for having sent four of its members to carry out this task—thus preventing them from attending the section’s weekly meeting. That the Secretariat increasingly struggles to find “willing volunteers” among comrades in the section—who always have good reasons to dodge the task—causes no scandal; but that the Secretariat, tired of begging for help, decides to do the work itself even if it means missing a meeting—this becomes a "scandal"! Must we be reminded that while, as members of a section, they are expected to participate in its regular activities, they are also, as members of an organism that transcends the framework of the section, obligated to carry out the tasks assigned to them and are accountable to those by whom and for whom they were appointed. The responsibility of the Secretariat is no more under the jurisdiction of the Paris section than it is of the section in Tours, Leeds, or Turin. The excuse of having fulfilled tasks within the Paris section carries no weight before the full International Bureau, and even less before any delegation of the territorial section at the CCI Congress, when it comes to failing to carry out the tasks for which the Secretariat was mandated. Here again, behind this misunderstanding, an old opposition reemerges between two conceptions of organization: Federalism or Centralism. It is purely a circumstantial coincidence that the Secretariat happens to be physically located in Paris. It could just as well be elsewhere tomorrow. Its function and responsibilities would remain unchanged.

The CO has been criticized for its supposedly “substitutionist” tendencies. It is being reduced to a purely technical commission that, at most, would merely coordinate the activity of the section. Once again, we are faced with a false conception of the structures of the organization. The CO, like all other commissions of this type, is a body with political responsibility, and this political character becomes all the more evident as the size of the section increases. Even now, with two half-sections, the CO is already finding it increasingly difficult to consult the entire section for every decision or action that circumstances may compel it to take. Tomorrow, with the acceleration of events, and in charge of 5 or 10 sections in Paris, it would be completely paralyzing to demand from it the constant application of the principle of prior consultation with every member before any decision is made.

There has also been talk of the CO’s supposed lack of trust in the comrades. But isn’t this, rather, a projection of one’s own lack of self-confidence onto the commissions—seen somewhat like parental figures who must be challenged? Shouldn’t we instead regret the nitpicking attitude of certain comrades and their lack of trust toward the work of the commissions, to which they should be offering more political and practical support?

The CO must, starting now, firmly reject the moralistic and petty-bourgeois meaning of the abstract notion of equality. It is up to the CO—while showing greater awareness of its political responsibilities and assuming them—to ensure the distribution of tasks by taking into account:

1. urgent needs that are not evenly distributed,

2, tasks and responsibilities that comrades are already carrying out,

3. the particular situations of comrades,

4. the different skills and abilities of each individual.

The guiding criterion must be the general interest of the organization.

M.C.

P.S. There is certainly a connection between the misunderstanding of what the organization is and the misunderstandings or questioning of the major political orientations adopted by the organization, such as: the historical course, the left in opposition, the analyses of events in Afghanistan, the Iran-Iraq war, and the strikes in Poland. I prefer to leave this aspect for another time—or better yet, I would like to give the floor to other comrades on this point.