The first show trial of a Bolshevik
Given his prominence as a high-ranking Bolshevik, Mirsad Sultan-Galiev is very little known. This is partly because he was cut off early in his career by persecution and ultimate execution in Stalin’s purges and his writings suppressed for decades, but also due to distortion and lack of comprehension of his arguments even by many anti-Stalinists. This is a pity, because there is much we can learn from his writings as well as his practice even today.
From the partition of British India to the civil war in Sri Lanka, attempts to impose national borders in accordance with ethnic, linguistic, or religious identities in South Asia have spawned wars and crimes against humanity. They have also resulted in almost unimaginable suffering and bloodshed from the mid-20th century until today: Hindu nationalists in India launch physical attacks against Christians and especially Muslims, falsely accusing them of carrying out fraudulent conversions, duping Hindu women into marriage, and cow slaughter; in Pakistan, religious minorities, including minority Muslim sects, are accused of blasphemy and often killed; rationalists in Bangladesh have been lynched; and minorities in Sri Lanka are being persecuted by Sinhala nationalists, who have forcibly cremated Muslim victims of Covid-19. Such attempts are all the more preposterous in a region where migration and the mixing of peoples and cultures have been occurring from time immemorial. As an activist who comes from Sri Lanka and lives in India, I have been involved in campaigns in both countries against the toxic ideologies and restrictive ethno-religious identities – Hindu, Muslim, Sinhalese, Tamil – that cultivate much of this violence.
There have been many articles attempting to explain the crushing defeat of the Labour Party in the UK election of 12 December 2019. Some of them are very insightful, and list reasons that undoubtedly played a part in that defeat. However I have not come across any which highlight two factors that are important, namely insufficient internationalism and a failure to uphold democracy strongly enough. Let me explain – but first, a brief summary of other viewpoints.
Introduction
Vociferous advocates of atheism like Richard Dawkins (2006), Sam Harris (2004) and Christopher Hitchens (2007) claim that religion has been the leading cause of war and violence throughout history. This has been challenged factually by critics who point out that while religion was the central factor in wars like the Crusades, there are much larger death tolls from wars and ideologies that are not religious in the conventional sense (for example the two world wars, Nazism and Stalinism). Another criticism comes from a study which found that all three of these atheists supported the 2001 war on Afghanistan, and Hitchens supported the 2003 war on Iraq, which between them resulted in millions of deaths (Megoran 2018). This suggests that their real objection is only to religion, rather than to violence and war.
My purpose in this paper is not to examine the statistics of religion and violence but to challenge the use of the term ‘religion’ as though its meaning were monolithic and unproblematic, arguing instead that within each religion there are currents that embue it with very different and even diametrically opposed meanings. I conclude that any sweeping generalisations about religion as such are bound to be wrong, and that versions of almost every religion span the entire spectrum from life-affirming love and respect for all humans to destructive hatred and violence against those who are defined as being inferior or different. What is important, then, is neither to support nor to oppose religion as such, but to identify and oppose those strands which endorse or encourage oppression and cruelty.
Defining globalisation
Globalisation has become a buzz-word, yet there are widely differing conceptions of what it means. Part of the problem is that those who use the word seldom bother to define it. Prima facie, it would appear that a globalised world is one in which there are no barriers (other than purely natural and technological ones) to the movement of people, products, money and ideas around the world. But globalisation in this very general sense pre-dates capitalism and the formation of nation-states. Clearly, this is not the subject of current debates about globalisation, although it is not irrelevant to them. It is presumably in order to clarify this point that various adjectives are used to qualify ‘globalisation’, such as ‘capitalist’, ‘imperialist’ and ‘neoliberal’. However this creates new problems, because these adjectives have their own meanings. When they are combined with ‘globalisation’, where do these meanings end and the meaning of globalisation begin?
This issue of the Journal takes up the problematic relationship between gender and nationalism. The ambiguity of this relationship derives mainly from the two-sided character of nationalism. The feminist struggle is one for liberation from gender oppression; to the extent that it stands aside from other struggles against oppression (bourgeois feminists who ignore class oppression, white feminists who ignore racism), it becomes limited and partial: that is, it fails to recognise the gendered ways in which racial and class oppression operate, and thereby accepts the oppression of some women. Similarly, foreign domination and ethnic oppression also affect women in specific ways, and a feminism which stands for the liberation of all women cannot be neutral: it has to take a stand against oppression and for liberation.
However, nationalism is not simply about liberation from foreign domination or ethnic oppression; indeed, this dimension is not even present in most forms of nationalism (British nationalism being an obvious example), whereas all forms of nationalism are about the establishment and perpetuation of state power – an inherently authoritarian and hierarchical institution – over a certain area of the earth’s surface. Where this is the only dimension in nationalism (where it is imperialist and racist, for example), there is no dilemma for feminists: they can unambiguously be opposed to it. It is when the liberationist element is also present that the problems arise. This is the grey area where a struggle may be against foreign domination or ethnic oppression but also may be fundamentalist or otherwise oppressive to women, or stand for its own form of ethnic oppression, or in other ways seek to establish a totalitarian state power. Where should feminists stand when the goals of nationalism diverge from those of feminism?
Introduction What, exactly, happens in the working-class family? Are there any elements in common across the centuries since capitalism be...