Schwerpunkte

Rubriken

The War of all States against all People

John Holloway and Eloína Peláez

We scream. Horror, anger, frustration. The bombing of Afghanistan, the pictures of the children in the hospitals, the people who have lost legs because of mines, the hunger, the desperation of those trying to escape across the border. And the bombing goes on, and the self-righteous declarations of the smug politicians, the masters of war. Perhaps the worst for us is the helplessness, the feeling that there is nothing we can do to stop the slaughter.

I

The most powerful state in the world is bombing one of the poorest countries, daily dropping bombs on children, women and men who have no possibility of defending themselves. The US government declare this to be a war on terrorism, a retribution for the destruction of the World Trade Centre on 11 September, but it is not terrorists who are being killed.

It is clear that behind the action of the US state there are motivations that have little to do with the events of 11 September. It is clear that the bombing has much to do with US interests in the area, particularly in relation to oil and geo-strategic considerations. It is important to analyse these interests both in order to understand what is happening and, especially, to demystify the US justifications for its horrific actions.

Nevertheless, it is important to go beyond this sort of analysis, for a number of reasons.

Firstly, although these motivations are undoubtedly present, they are probably part of a much more confused mixture of motivations. To give exclusive emphasis to the pursuit of US interests is probably to attribute a coherence and rationality to the actions of the US state that they do not possess.

Secondly, the US state is not the only state involved in the action: it is supported by an international coalition. While the existence of this coalition certainly expresses the dominant position of the US state, it is equally clear that the other states are also pursuing their own particular interests in supporting the 'war against terrorism'. To present the US state as the only guilty party in this situation leads easily to an anti-Americanism which is theoretically and politically sterile.

And thirdly, and most important of all, the analysis of the war simply in terms of US interests does little to overcome our feeling of helplessness, since we are not present as subjects in this type of analysis.

II

How can we understand the present situation in such a way that we are not simply helpless spectators? How can we understand our presence in the current events not just as victims but as active participants?

Perhaps one way to approach it is to see that this is not just the war of the United States against Afghanistan, nor the war of the United States against terrorism, but the war of all states against all people, and that we are actively involved.

The self-presentation of capitalist social relations always denies our active presence. Asserting our subjectivity always involves criticising appearances.

This is clear if we think of competition. Competition appears to be a conflict between two distinct capitalist enterprises. Reflection reveals that this is only superficially true. The two enterprises which appear to be distinct are in fact two fragments of a whole (capital) competing for a greater part of total social surplus value. The two individual capitals compete in different ways, but the most important of these is by intensifying the labour process of their workers, by maximising the surplus value produced by their workers. The two capitals compete, not so much by struggling against each other as by waging war against their own workers. The major problem for the capitals in competition is not what the other capital does but the behaviour and resistance of their own workers. The competing capitals have a common interest in maximising exploitation. Competition is the way in which value is imposed (behind the backs of the actors).

Competition, then, is a form of class struggle. The struggle is not so much between two groups of people (capitalists and workers) as between two ways of doing, two forms of social relations. The struggle by capital is the struggle to impose value as a way of doing (or form of social relations), in which those who do are separated from control of their doing. The struggle by the workers is a struggle against the imposition of value and, implicitly or explicitly, for a way of doing in which the doers themselves (the workers) decide what should be done and how. The struggle by the workers is a struggle for a world that could be: the force of their struggle is the force of the present existence of that which is not yet.

War is similar to competition in that, despite appearances, it is always war against the working class.

This does not mean that war is simply an extension of competition between individual capitals or groups of capitals. It may in some cases be fought simply to pursue the interests of those capitals located in the warring state, but the fundamental separation of the political and the economic (particularisation of the political) means that it is not possible to assume that a state will act rationally in the interests of the capitals located in its territory. That is why, in the case of the attack on Afghanistan, the interests of particular capitals or groups of capitals are undoubtedly present in the forces motivating US actions, but any pursuit of those interests is filtered through the confusion, conflict, ignorance and irrationality that is inherent in the existence of the state as a particular form of capitalist social relations.

Wars, like competition, appear to be conflicts between two distinct entities. In fact, reflection shows us that the two states are two fragments of the political governance of a single, global capitalist society. States appear to be the states of their particular national societies (sovereign states), but in fact their material base derives from the global exploitation of labour.

Again, as in competition, so in a war the individual states fight by turning against their own population, by intensifying social discipline. Typically, this involves introducing conscription to force young men to go and kill and be killed, introducing censorship to prevent people knowing what is being done, controlling, imprisoning or killing 'foreigners' (those who are not recognised as citizens of the particular state), banning strikes, intensifying discipline at work, rationing food, increasing taxation. States at war are as much concerned with the indiscipline of their 'own' population as with the behaviour of the 'enemy'. The biggest enemy for a state at war is not the official Enemy but the popular revulsion on all sides against the horrors and absurdity of war.

In war, states fight for particular interests, just as individual companies do in competition. However, the important outcome is not the victory of one company or another, one state or another, but the restructuring of social relations that is imposed through the competition or war, behind the backs of the actors. The shape taken by this restructuring may indeed be affected by the victory of one or another state, as different states reflect different balances of class relations. Nevertheless, the principal effect on class relations is determined not by who wins but by the very existence of the war. It is the war itself that leads to a massive destruction of constant capital, to an increase in the rate of surplus value, to a general disciplining of society and to the reinforcement of all those values of manhood, discipline and nationalism that are essential for the maintenance of capitalist order. War is not the only way to achieve these aims, but it is sometimes an effective way of doing so. The absence of war can contribute to the long-term erosion of the subordination required for capitalist expansion. Arguably, this long-term erosion of subordination is the core of capital's present difficulties.

In war, as in competition, the fragmentation of capitalist domination is essential to the effectiveness of that domination. The separation of the political from the economic, and above all the fragmentation of statehood into a multiplicity of states is crucial to the maintenance and effectiveness of capitalist domination.

We come then to this result: just as the managers of Ford or General Motors (say) are in reality on the same side of the war against the workers, so the generals of both armies in a war are in reality on the same side of the war against the people. The guns of both armies are turned against us.

Who then are the opposing forces in a war? Only superficially are they the two opposing armies. More profoundly, they are the states with their armies on one side and the people on the other. How ridiculous! Yes, but with the world as it is, we have to think ridiculous to have any hope at all of moving forward.

Ridiculous and yet not so ridiculous. Mutinies and the shooting of officers by their soldiers are a significant element in all wars. But it is not just that. If we see war as an attempt to bring about the restructuring of social relations, then it may not be very successful. If we think of the First World War as a process of social restructuring, what were the decisive forces that shaped that restructuring? The revolutionary struggles of the solders, workers and peasants in Russia and in many other countries. What was it that shaped the outcome of the Second World War as a social restructuring? The latent and overt struggles of those who refused to accept that there could be a return to the capitalism of the 1930's. What was the decisive force in the Vietnam War? The revulsion against militarism in all the world, the so-called "Vietnam syndrome" that the politicians and generals see as their main enemy in the present war.

War, like competition, is a conflict not so much between two groups of people as between two forms of social relations, two forms of doing. On the one hand, violence, discipline, subordination, the separation of people from any possibility of determining their own lives, the negation of human dignity. On the other hand, insubordination, the struggle for control over our lives, the assertion of human dignity as a negated but real force, the struggle for a form of resolving conflicts that respects human dignity. On the one hand, the desperation of guns, on the other hand the confidence of us who say 'no!'.

III

All wars are wars against the people, but this is particularly clear in the present case.

The principal protagonist is the US state, but the war is supported by an international coalition involving nearly all states. This is partly because of US pressure, but it would be wrong to think simply in terms of the strength of US imperialism, or indeed in terms of an Empire in which the fragmentation of the political into a multiplicity of states is no longer important. It is rather the case of each state seizing the opportunity of the war and of the attack on the Twin Towers to advance (often in a confused and erratic manner) its own interests. An example of this would be the German government's sending of troops to the war, which has far more to do with its own international policies than with any pressure from the US state; or even the Pakistan government's use of the war to reduce its external debt.

Much more important than either of these examples is the fact that there are probably very few (if any) states that have not used the current situation as a means of increasing vigilance over their populations. It is not because of US pressure but because of their own nature as states concerned with the maintenance of order and the attraction of capitalist investment that states in all the world are taking the opportunity to increase surveillance of dissident groups, to increase control of foreigners, restrict gains that have been made by struggles around human rights, increase secrecy, increase expenditure on police, army and security. In many cases, this involves the introduction of legislation or official decrees that would just not have been possible before the 11th of September: the United States and Britain are the examples that come to mind, but there are many more. In other cases, there is simply an increase in the policing of foreigners and dissident groups and in the arbitrariness with which they are treated. Often, governments may present those measures as a response to an external situation, just as they present the introduction of repressive economic measures as a response to the IMF, but in each case these are measures introduced by the individual states to discipline their own populations, measures to strengthen subordination. In this sense, the present war is more directly than ever a war of all states against all people.

Perhaps the important point is to see that this war waged by all states is part of a confused, irrational, contradictory and above all opportunistic attempt to restructure social relations on a global level. This does not mean that the war was pre-planned with care, and certainly not that the attacks of 11 September were carried out by the US government itself, simply that the US state and all other states are seizing the opportunity to push through a restructuring of social relations. These measures are both collaborative and competitive (like the relations between states): collaborative in that they all share a common interest in declaring "war on terrorism", competitive in that they are inevitably part of the competitive struggle of states to attract the flow of capital to their particular territories. This restructuring is clearly intertwined with the current manifest economic crisis of capitalism and the attempt to overcome and to shape this. The crisis increases both the competitive nature of the measures and the pressure for collaborative measures to impose subordination on society in general.

What is the insubordination that capital is attacking? To some extent, it is what the politicians proclaim - the insubordination that becomes so desperate that it expresses itself though terrorist acts such as the attacks of 11 September. But that is just a small part of the problem for capital. Much more important is the anti-capitalist movement that has gathered such strength in the last few years. This movement has already been hit badly by the present assault - not just by direct measures of increased surveillance but also by the connection established in many people's minds between protest against the US state and support for terrorism. And beyond the explicit anti-capitalist movement, capital's problem is a much more insidious, more diffuse lack of subordination to capital in society, an unwillingness on people's part to dedicate their entire lives to the accumulation of capital, a frivolity and lack of respect for capital. All that is being attacked by capital.

Special mention should be made of one form of insubordination that is very obviously being attacked: migration across frontiers. Migration is insubordination in the simple sense that it implies a refusal to accept (for whatever reason) the conditions of living and employment in the place of origin. But it is not only that. A lot of migration is illegal. It does not respect immigration controls and does not accept, therefore, the territorial self-definition of the state and the definition of identities on which the existence of the state is constructed. In recent years, owing to the dramatic widening of differences in living conditions between rich and poor countries, this form of migration has increased enormously and the control of illegal immigration has come to be seen as a major political problem by states. It could be argued that the movement of workers constitutes one of the major threats to the reproduction of capitalism: probably the free movement of people is incompatible with the existence of capitalism. The war against terrorism is most directly and most obviously a war against migrants: the "anti-terrorist" measures introduced by the US, British and other governments are above all directed against migrants. Most (all?) of the people arrested and harassed have been migrants. Moreover, the state measures promote a racism in society which goes far beyond the legal controls. Racism is in the first place directed against migrants, but its emphasis on identity is an attack on all of us, an attack on humanity itself.

We, then, are at the centre of the war. We are not at the margins looking on helplessly. In this war we are not victims but protagonists. The attack on us implies inevitably a response by us, some attempt to fight for our humanity. It is important to remember that power does not necessarily lie with those who have guns, and that war is always part of a broader struggle. The outcome of wars is usually far removed from the aims of those who are their obvious protagonists. The political leaders who led the slaughter of the First World War did not have in mind the Russian revolution and the destruction of the order that they thought they were defending. Churchill wanted to defeat Hitler, but it was certainly not the post-war welfare state that he was fighting for. After all wars, the men of arms turn around and ask in horror, "is that what we fought for?" And of course it is not, because the outcome of wars does not depend on the guns and the bombs. It depends on far deeper processes, of which we and our scream of revulsion are an active part.

IV

The war is a war against us, but our struggle is not a war against them. The term "class war" is an unfortunate metaphor. It has the merit of underlining the violence with which capital attacks us and the intensity with which we refuse. Yet the problem with the metaphor is that it suggests a symmetry between the two conflicting sides: in war one army is more or less the mirror image of the other. But in class struggle there can be no symmetry simply because the struggle is not between two groups of people but between two ways of doing, two forms of social relations. Military organisation and self-emancipation are incompatible, as the Zapatistas have repeatedly pointed out. The present war is a war of all states against all people. But it is not our war, however much the violence of the war may make us want to pick up a gun and shoot the arrogant politicians, those grotesque specimens of the inhumanity they would impose on all of us. Let us leave war where it belongs. War is a capitalist form of doing, always directed against human dignity. The struggle against capital is an anti-war, a constant invention of new ways of doing, a constant moving beyond the perspective of capital. Now is not the moment to reach for our guns, but to build upon the lessons of the Zapatista uprising and the anti-capitalist movement of recent years. The states have exposed themselves in their naked brutality, making it clearer than ever that we must go elsewhere.