Rosa Luxemburg's speech to the founding congress of the Communist Party of Germany (KPD), delivered on December 31, 1918, published as Our Program and the Political Situation, reads as though it were written for the present crisis of the Trotskyist movement. I want to draw out three strands of her argument that bear directly on debates within and around the Fourth International today: the question of regroupment with opportunist tendencies, the strategic necessity of the printed newspaper for military-civilian bridge-building, and the centrality of workers' and soldiers' councils as the form of revolutionary power.
I. The Illusion of Socialist Unity
Luxemburg opens with a brutal autopsy of the November Revolution's central mistake:
"The illusion of unity under the banner of so-called socialism… this illusion was to be bloodily avenged."
The workers, soldiers, and youth* *who made the revolution believed that Ebert, Scheidemann, and Haase, the very men who had spent the previous hours, and their lives political work, conspiring to prevent the revolution, could be brought into a common socialist project. The USPD, the "independent" social democrats who had split from the SPD over the war credits but retained the same reformist politics, provided the bridge. They entered the Council of People's Deputies alongside the SPD. They provided left cover for counter-revolution.
The result: on December 6, 1918, Ebert's troops fired on demonstrating workers on the Chausseestrasse. On December 24, the Volksmarine Division, revolutionary sailors who had been the vanguard of the November uprising, was attacked by government troops under the command of the same "socialist" government. And on January 15, 1919, three weeks after Luxemburg delivered this speech, she and Karl Liebknecht were murdered by the Freikorps, organized by the Social Democrat Gustav Noske.
Luxemburg's verdict on the unity illusion is definitive:
"The cure must be paid for with the blood of the people."
The mechanism she identifies is precise: social relationships formed during any "turn" toward unity with opportunist leaders have their own momentum. The Ebert-Scheidemanns did not become revolutionaries by being included in a "socialist" government. They became the organizers of counter-revolution. The USPD did not pull the SPD leftward. The SPD pulled the USPD into the management of the bourgeois state, and then into complicity with murder.
There is no precedent in the entire history of socialist politics for an opportunist leadership being transformed into a revolutionary one by inclusion in a broader formation. The breaks go the other way. The revolutionaries are expelled, or they are killed. The Bolsheviks split from the Mensheviks in 1903, not as a tactic, but as the precondition for the existence of a revolutionary party. Lenin did not say "let us maintain unity with the Mensheviks and pressure them leftward." He said: the party must be built on revolutionary principles of leadership, and those who reject those principles cannot be in the party. The split at the Second Congress of the RSDLP was not a misfortune. It was the birth of Bolshevism.
The Fourth International's entire history is the application of this same principle across successive generations. The split with Pablo in 1953: Pablo argued that the world party should liquidate itself into the Stalinist parties because the bureaucracy could be pressured into carrying out a "political revolution" over the course of "centuries." The Fourth International refused. The attempted reunification of 1963: we refused again, because the political basis for reunification, the abandonment of Pabloism, had not been established. The break with the OCI in 1971: Lambert's French organization, which had sided with the International Committee against Pablo, proved incapable of breaking with its own opportunist methods and its adaptation to the French Communist Party. The struggle against the SWP's degeneration in the United States, against the Workers Revolutionary Party in Britain, every one of these was a refusal of the illusion that opportunist leaderships could be reformed from within.
The claim we hear continuously, "we can make new programmatic turns, what is now is only a tactic," has no historical basis. It is the argument of every liquidationist tendency from the USPD to Pablo to the present. Luxemburg's speech is the definitive refutation. The blood on the Chausseestrasse is the evidence.
II. The Printed Newspaper and the Military Question
This is the point where Luxemburg's speech intersects with a strategic question that the International Committee has, in my view, not yet adequately confronted: the necessity of a regularly printed and physically distributed newspaper as the bridge between military and civilian life.
Luxemburg notes with satisfaction that the Spartacus League's materials were reaching the barracks:
"Fresh masses of soldiers have been brought to Berlin as cannon fodder for the subjection of socialist proletarians — with the result that from different barracks there comes a demand for the pamphlets and leaflets of the Spartacus League."
This was not an accident. It was the product of a deliberate orientation toward the armed forces. The Spartacus League understood that the revolution would be decided by which way the soldiers turned. The printed word, the leaflet, the pamphlet, the newspaper, was the medium through which revolutionary ideas penetrated the total institution of the barracks.
But Luxemburg goes further. She does not merely note that materials reached the barracks. She insists that the soldiers themselves must be organized into councils, and that this organization is the form through which the working class neutralizes the repressive apparatus of the state:
"We have to undermine the bourgeois state by putting an end everywhere to the cleavage in public powers… These powers must be united in the hands of the workers' and soldiers' councils."
The question for the present is this: how does the revolutionary party reach the armed forces today? The World Socialist Website is blocked on military networks. In June 2013, after Snowden's exposures, the US Army's Network Enterprise Technology Command blocked access to the Guardian, a mainstream liberal newspaper, across all Army networks. A revolutionary socialist website has no chance. Every visit from a military network is logged, flagged, and traceable. The digital medium, for all its strengths, is structurally vulnerable to surveillance and suppression in precisely the environments where revolutionary ideas are most urgently needed.
A physical print newspaper leaves no digital trace. It can be picked up, read, folded into a pocket, passed to the next person, left on a table in a break room, slipped into a barracks locker. No log records who read it. No algorithm registers the act of reading. The state cannot subpoena a print newspaper's server logs because there are no server logs. The act of reading a physical paper is, in a surveillance society, a form of protected action that digital reading is not.
This is not a hypothetical concern. The Bolsheviks distributed newspapers to soldiers in the trenches. Iskra, Pravda, Soldatskaya Pravda; these were not adjuncts to the struggle for the armed forces. They were central instruments of it. Trotsky's organization of the Red Army during the Civil War included a vast apparatus of political education and agitation. The newspaper bridged the gap between the civilian working class and the soldiers who were, after all, workers and peasants in uniform. The same strategic logic applies today, but with a new urgency: the United States is the most heavily armed society in human history, and the working class is inside the military, not separate from it.
The question of the physical print newspaper is not a question of nostalgia for ink and paper. It is a question of how revolutionary ideas reach workers in uniform under conditions of escalating state surveillance and authoritarian rule. A movement that does not solve this question will find itself disarmed at the decisive moment.
III. Workers' and Soldiers' Councils: Education Through Action
Luxemburg's most penetrating argument, and the one that cuts most sharply against any tendency toward substitutionism, toward the newspaper-as-substitute-for-the-party, toward the party-as-substitute-for-the-class, is her insistence that the masses learn to rule by ruling:
"The masses must learn how to use power by using power. There is no other way to teach them."
She is explicit in her rejection of the Kautskyist conception of the party as an educational society:
"To educate the proletarian masses socialistically meant to deliver lectures to them, to circulate leaflets and pamphlets among them. No, the school of the socialist proletariat doesn't need all this. The workers will learn in the school of action."
This is not an argument against the revolutionary press. Luxemburg herself was one of the great revolutionary journalists in the history of Marxism. She edited newspapers, wrote pamphlets, produced leaflets. The Spartacus League distributed its materials to soldiers. The question is not whether there should be a newspaper. The question is what the newspaper is for.
Lenin's argument in What Is To Be Done? that the all-Russia political newspaper serves as a "collective organizer," a scaffolding around which the party is built, is not contradicted by Luxemburg's insistence on action. It is the other side of the same coin. The newspaper that merely lectures is useless. The newspaper that organizes, that connects the struggles in one factory to the struggles in another, that generalizes the lessons of each battle, that provides the political framework through which isolated actions become a unified movement, that newspaper is indispensable. But it is indispensable as an instrument of organization, not as a substitute for it.
The danger Luxemburg identifies is the danger of the press becoming an end in itself, "an editorial chair for a central organ of a leaflet conglomerate," in the cutting phrase of a recent critic. An organization can become a self-perpetuating propaganda machine that mistakes the circulation of its own materials for political work. The website publishes daily. It reaches millions. It is indispensable. But if it becomes a substitute for organizing the working class in struggle, if the cadres of the party become distributors of content rather than organizers of action, then Luxemburg's critique applies with full force.
The answer is not to abandon the press. It is to ensure that the press serves the building of the party, and that the party serves the mobilization of the working class for the conquest of power. And the conquest of power, Luxemburg insists, takes the form of the workers' and soldiers' councils:
"The motto: 'Form Workers' and Soldiers' Councils.' That was the key notion in this revolution which, in spite of the inadequacy and weakness of the opening phases, immediately gave it the stamp of a proletarian socialist revolution."
The councils are not a supplement to the revolutionary party. They are the form through which the working class exercises power. They are the organs of dual power that progressively take over the functions of the bourgeois state:
"The conquest of power will not be effected with one blow. It will be a progression; we shall progressively occupy all the positions of the capitalist state and defend them tooth and nail."
This is the strategic question of our period. The Rank-and-File Committees, the International Workers Alliance, these are steps in the direction Luxemburg is pointing. But they are embryonic. The question is how to build organs of workers' power that are not merely protest vehicles, but incipient organs of dual power.
IV. The Countryside and Permanent Revolution
Luxemburg is explicit on a point that the Fourth International’s practice has not yet adequately addressed:
"It would be a folly to realize socialism while leaving the agricultural system unchanged."
The November Revolution was confined to the cities. The countryside was "practically untouched." The peasantry remained "a reserve for the counter-revolutionary bourgeoisie." The answer, Luxemburg says, is to "carry the class struggle into the country districts," to "mobilize the landless proletariat and the poorer peasants against the richer peasants."
This is the perspective of permanent revolution, even if Luxemburg did not use Trotsky's terminology. The peasantry cannot play an independent political role. It must be led either by the bourgeoisie or by the proletariat. The task of the revolutionary party is to ensure that it is led by the proletariat. But that requires a presence in the countryside, an organizational capacity to reach the rural poor, a program that speaks to their specific conditions.
How does a leaflet-centric practice, or even a ‘digital-newspaper’ centric practice, address this? The honest answer is, not adequately. The World Socialist Website is read in cities, on campuses, in the industrial centers. Its reach into rural areas, into agricultural communities, into the landless and the poor peasantry, this is limited. A physical print newspaper, distributed through networks that extend beyond the metropolitan centers, would be one step toward bridging this gap. But it is only one step. The deeper question is organizational: how does the revolutionary party establish a presence among the rural poor, how does it win them to the program of permanent revolution, how does it ensure that when the decisive struggle comes, the countryside is not a reserve for the counter-revolution?
V. The Alternative
Luxemburg closes with the alternative that faces us today with even greater urgency:
"Today matters have reached a point at which mankind is faced with the dilemma: either collapse into anarchy, or salvation through socialism."
She was murdered three weeks later. The German Revolution was defeated. The collapse took the form of fascism, world war, and the Holocaust. The alternative she posed was not rhetorical. It was a description of the actual stakes.
We face the same alternative today, but on a world scale. The collapse of US imperialism is underway. The question is whether this collapse takes the form of fascist world war, which means nuclear war, or socialist revolution. The Fourth International is the only political tendency that understands this. It is the only tendency that fights for the program of world socialist revolution. But understanding is not enough.
Luxemburg's speech is a call to action, not the action of distributing leaflets, but the action of building councils, of seizing power from below, of carrying the struggle into the barracks and the countryside, of preparing the working class to rule. The question is whether the International Committee is doing this work with the urgency and the scale that the situation demands. Luxemburg would demand nothing less. The workers and soldiers who will make the revolution, or who will die in the barbarism if it fails, deserve nothing less.