Miscellaneous Articles
Workers’ Control and Revolution (page 2 of 2)
By Victor Wallis

As a more direct expression of Italy's uniqueness in these respects, one can point at a tradition dating back to the 1860s which linked socialism very closely with anarchism.[30] Less than a year before the factory occupations, Antonio Gramsci gave a clear example of such a link when he wrote: "The proletarian dictatorship can only be embodied in a type of organization that is specific to the activity of producers, not wage-earners, the slaves of capital. The factory council is the nucleus of this organization.... The factory council is the model of the proletarian State."[31]

Spain, 1936-1939

The Spanish Civil War provided the occasion, in certain regions of the country, for the closest approach yet made to a society fully based on workers' control. Largely hidden from world opinion at the time, the innovations in question have nonetheless been well recorded, often by eye-witnesses, and they constitute a vital reference-point for any revolutionary strategy which looks beyond the mere seizure of state power.

The most notable aspects of the Spanish experience may be summarized as follows.[32] First, workers' control was practiced in every sector of the economy. While it went furthest in agriculture, in at least one city (Barcelona) it was also introduced in all industries and services. Second, the structural changes were very radical, often entailing the elimination of certain managerial positions, the equalization of wages, and, in some peasant collectives, the abolition of money. Particularly impressive is the fact that, where land-expropriations took place, the peasants almost invariably preferred communal ownership to parcellization. Third, even the most radical of the changes were introduced directly and immediately, placing maximum reliance on the participation of the masses to the highest level of their abilities. Fourth, contrary to many stereotypes, the changes in question were not necessarily made at the expense of efficiency, but instead often involved advances in technology or coordination, as in the consolidation of the Barcelona bakeries and the vertical integration of the Catalan lumber industry. And finally, it was in some places close to three years before the self-managed operations were suppressed by force of arms. There was thus ample time for them to prove themselves as practical arrangements.

The full scope of the mass initiative in Spain was so great that one hesitates to offer any schematic explanation, but we may at least sketch in some of the contours.[33] In Spain as in Italy, we find an anarchist component to working class culture, and we also find a constitutional political framework. But Spain was economically more backward; its constitution was newer and its anarchism stronger. Anarchist and socialist movements had already developed two rival union-federations by the time the Republic was established (1931). In the sphere of government the anarchists were naturally unrepresented, but the left parties doubtless benefited from their votes. By the time of the February 1936 elections, the general polarization of Spanish society exceeded that of postwar Italy, and the Popular Front coalition won a majority in parliament. The workers and peasants could thus make their first moves under a government which, though not revolutionary, they had at least some reason to consider their own.

The reactionary forces, however, provided the real catalyst. This reflected another unique aspect of the Spanish case. In Italy, as also in Germany, fascism had intervened only after the high tide of the workers' movement had already passed--outlasted in the former case by a relatively unified bourgeoisie; crushed in the latter by an unholy alliance of social-democrats and generals. In Spain of the 1930s, the bourgeoisie was still something of a rising class. An important sector of it was represented in the leadership of the Popular Front: again an unusual circumstance, in that all previous late-developing bourgeoisies had carefully avoided any political alliance with the working class. But the liberalism of the Republican bourgeoisie could not be viewed even as a temporary expedient by the rest of the Spanish ruling class. Hence the rapidly improvised military response of Franco in July 1936--the least prepared of all fascist risings in terms of any prior pacification of the masses.

The counterattack from below was instantaneous, massive, and revolutionary. The popular resistance far outstripped anything that could have been organized by the bourgeois Republic; but by the same token it involved the immediate implementation of measures which even the most progressive of the governing parties could envisage only for a distant future. The military insurgency had hobbled the Republican power structure, and in so doing had confronted workers and peasants not only with a mortal threat, but also with an undreamed-of opportunity. They rushed to fill the vacuum. In a two-week period they collectivized industries, services, and farm villages throughout the Eastern half of Spain.[34] With communities now authentically their own to defend, they gave themselves in full force to the military struggle against fascism.

The Republican government was in a contradictory position. On the one hand, it would have fallen instantly without the popular counterattack, but on the other, it could in no way identify with the social revolution, which this involved. So while it gathered some of its forces to resist Franco's Nationalist army, it mobilized others to suppress the very movement which had made such resistance possible. It was to gain a decisive counterrevolutionary success in the Barcelona May Days of 1937.[35]

The response from the side of the workers and peasants was ambiguous. Their dilemma was essentially the obverse of that of the government. While they were tenacious about preserving their social gains, they were reluctant to bring about any further deterioration in the unity of the anti-fascist forces. At any level above that of their immediate communities, they tended to accept defeat, although this often meant that they were disarmed for the common military effort. To some extent, however, this element of resignation had shown itself even while the revolution was still at the crest of its initial upsurge. A key moment had occurred in Barcelona on July 21, 1936. The armed workers, having routed the bourgeoisie, were offered power by the Catalan president. They declined. As explained by one of their anarchist leaders: "We could have remained alone, imposed our absolute will, declared the Generalidad [Catalan state] null and void, and imposed the true power of the people in its place, but we did not believe in dictatorship when it was being exercised against us, and we did not want it when we could exercise it ourselves only at the expense of others."[36]

When one takes into account the final outcome of the conflict, it is hard not to consider such a statement either tragic or absurd. But the tragedy/absurdity is compounded by the position of those who did think in terms of state power. For while the anarchists backed the workers but refused to accept their mandate, the Communists welcomed a role in the government but used it--with even greater insistence than their bourgeois partners--to undo the revolutionary gains of the workers.[37]

Santiago Carrillo's "Eurocommunist" position is not new; already in January 1937 he was saying, as Secretary General of the Socialist-Communist Youth, "We are not Marxist youth. We fight for a democratic, parliamentary republic."[38] The practical meaning of such statements was shown after May 1937, when the Republican government (with Communist participation) began the systematic restoration of private ownership in agriculture and inaustry.[39] This was almost two years before the final victory of fascism.

The Spanish workers and peasants thus experienced, within the lifetime of the Republic, a compressed and intensified version of what the Russian workers went through after 1917. The rationales, however, were different. Lenin's reservations about self-management had rested above all on the question of expertise. In Spain, on the other hand, even for work requiring highly specialized skills, it was possible to find individuals who accepted the aims and ideals of the masses of workers, and did not demand special privileges. This is indeed a tribute to the cultural impact of Spanish anarchism, and it was an important factor in the improvement of public services under workers' control.

The argument for suppressing workers' control was found not in any failures of the workers themselves but rather in the international situation: an issue that became particularly important with the intervention of Nazi and Italian Fascist forces on Franco's side. The Soviet Union was the only outside power willing to aid the Republic, but Stalin did not wish to jeopardize his defensive alliance with the French government by supporting revolution in Spain. More generally, the Communist parties argued that the only hope of additional support against Franco would come from portraying the battle strictly as one of "democracy vs. fascism." For our present purposes, it is enough to make three points about this argument. First, its assumption that bourgeois governments might be swayed by such an ideological appeal proved to be totally unfounded. Second, it imposed a major limitation on the nature of foreign working-class support, for while thousands of highly politicized workers came to Spain as volunteers, the millions who stayed at home had no reason to see the issue as one of class interest and as a result had no significant impact on the struggle. Finally, within Spain, the consequences for the workers' and peasants' fighting ability were--as we have seen--disastrous.

Chile, 1970-1973

Allende's Chile was a direct successor to revolutionary Spain in more ways than one: electoral stimulus, workers' initiatives, conflicts within the left, decisive foreign support to the right, and crushing defeat. In some ways, of course, Chile never reached the levels attained in Spain. Thus, the Chilean workers and peasants remained for the most part unarmed, and there were no whole regions of the country that they controlled. Nevertheless, there is one important sense in which the Chilean case carries the accumulated experience of workers' control another step forward: namely, that the interaction between class-conscious workers and the elected government was a great deal more fluid. The Allende government, unlike the Popular Front government in Spain, was made up overwhelmingly of working-class parties and was at least programmatically committed to workers' control. The Chilean workers, for their part, had much less of a tradition of anarchism, and in fact were most often identified--if only through their unions--with the very parties that made up the government. Only among the peasants had any direct takeovers been carried out prior to 1970.

In effect, the autonomous workers' initiatives were, to a greater extent than in either Italy or Spain, an offshoot of the struggle that was being conducted at state level. While the Chilean workers never came as close to power as did their Spanish predecessors (especially in Catalonia), they certainly would not have declined the authority if it had been thrust upon them. Their problem was thus the opposite of the one facing the Spanish workers: after a whole generation of functioning under a stable constitutional regime, and after eighteen years of steady electoral growth for the left, the Chilean workers had become used to relying upon an eventual electoral success for the satisfaction of their demands.[40] It was only after Allende's narrow victory that they began to see the full extent of their own responsibility in the process.

The direct role of the workers was initially a defensive one. The first factories to be taken over were those whose owners had unilaterally cut back production.[41] The workers did not necessarily expect to run such factories on their own; their more likely priority, at this stage, was to protect a government with which they identified. At first, it was only in the countryside (especially in the Mapuche Indian zone) that expropriations from below were undertaken on a systematic basis. But even in these cases, there was a sense of acting within legal terms consistent with those accepted by Allende, for already on the books was an agrarian reform passed in 1967 which had set an 80-hectare ceiling on individual holdings but which the previous administration had not seriously implemented.

In short, both workers and peasants acted in the expectation of official support for their steps. To a greater extent than in any previous case, such support did materialize. This was not because the government's security from the right was any stronger, for in this respect, unlike the situation in Republican Spain, the military still constituted a threat from within. Rather, it was because the government's dependence on the left was greater, both in terms of its original access to office and in terms of its need to confront unanimous bourgeois obstruction of economic activity. In any case, legal norms were established through the Ministry of Labor for regulating factory organization in the "social area" (nationalized sector) of the economy, and these provided for a majority of worker-elected representatives on the Administrative Council of each enterprise. Within this framework, the workers again showed that their economic performance increased with the level of their participation, while the latter in turn, far from reflecting narrow sectoral interests or competitive, attitudes, was related to their identification with the total process of change.[42]

But the Allende government was never able to free itself of its institutional moorings. The bourgeoisie, by its very obstructionism, was forcing a speed-up of the transformation, but only the grassroots workers could mount an appropriate response. With the October 1972 bosses' stoppage, "business as usual" disappeared completely, and expropriation became necessary not just as a revolutionary goal but simply for the maintenance of essential services. At this point the contradiction between legally installed government and class-conscious workers became decisive. The workers overcame the stoppage and saved the government, but the government bargained away their victory by agreeing to return seized factories in exchange for military guarantees to protect scheduled congressional elections.[43]

The available alternatives will never be fully known. Significantly, however, even a strong defender of Allende's concessions admits that the military at that moment was not yet prepared to launch a successful coup.[44] From the workers' standpoint, therefore, the setback was unmitigated. It signaled the end of any official encouragement to workers' control, except in improvised response to the coup-attempt of June 1973, when once again many plants were seized. By that time, however, the military already had the initiative, and from then on until the final coup in September, workers in self-managed factories were subjected to systematic shakedowns and intimidation by the armed forces. The legal pretext for such shakedowns was never applied against rightists, even though it was they who had actually been committing acts of violence. The government said nothing, but it was powerless in any case. It had made its choice earlier. As in Spain, the workers' initiatives had been blocked "from their own side"--less wholeheartedly, but no less surely.

Still, Chile had shown that government support for workers' control was at least a possibility.
Some sectors of the governing coalition (especially the left wing of the Socialist party) favored just such a strategy, though not to the exclusion of a coordinated approach to transition. Within the self-managed factories, the workers with the highest level of participation had no illusions about the sufficiency of their own sphere of activity; rather, they identified precisely with these sectors,[45] and thus with an approach which--even if belatedly--had come to see the workplace struggle and the state-level struggle as going hand in hand.


It should hardly be necessary to say that the struggles for workers' control and for socialism are inseparable. And yet the problem that has arisen again and again in practice is that they have found themselves organizationally in conflict. "Socialism" has been the formal monopoly of a political party (or parties), while self-management has been the direct expression of the workers and peasants themselves. Whichever one has prevailed, the result has been a setback in the movement toward a classless society. "Socialism" without self-management has revived or perpetuated rigid social strata, while self-management without a strong political direction has simply been suppressed.

One can go even further and can say that the two sets of failures have reinforced each other.
Thus, for every defeated workers' uprising, there are the party bureaucrats who will gain credibility by denouncing its spontaneous and undisciplined character. But at the same time, for every disappointment occasioned by a revolutionary government, there are the radical libertarians who will add a further blast to their condemnation of any strategy that doesn't emanate directly and immediately from the base. Vanguard and mass, party and class: instead of moving closer together, they move further apart.

On what basis might this separation be overcome? Among the experiences considered here, the closest approach to a synthesis was reached in Italy. But in that case, the revolutionary party was in its earliest formative period and was quite remote from power. In Chile, there was an improvised synthesis, but it came only after the working-class parties had already taken on governmental responsibility under highly restrictive conditions. The result was that as the workers' initiatives broadened, the parties' support for them became more and more limited. What remained of such support in Allende's third year came increasingly from outside the government. In any case, it was too little and too late. Russia and Spain, for all their differences, seem in the end to express a pattern of polarization, which was the trend everywhere.

An effective synthesis between the self-management impulse and a political strategy has yet to be worked out. If and when it comes, it will be recognizable only in the form of a sustained practical success. No theoretical formulation can constitute an answer in itself. Nonetheless, whatever practical success is attained will have some theoretical anticipation, and it is in this sense that our four cases, despite their relative failures, have something to tell us.

One of the biggest problems is that of technical expertise and coordination. We cannot say that the workers' ability to solve it has been demonstrated for any and every situation, but we can say the following. First, a genuine movement toward self-management, far from stressing a "my firm first" attitude, leads naturally--and as a practical matter--toward efforts at mutually beneficial planning between economic units. While these efforts may initially derive only from immediately obvious requirements, the practice they entail will create a natural receptivity to the case for more long-range or "macro" calculations. Second, workers are both able and willing to learn about technical matters. Third, where the urgency of expertise exceeds the time available to diffuse it, it is increasingly possible to find previously trained professionals (abroad if necessary) who will accept, perhaps even enthusiastically, new terms for their services. Finally, looking ahead, we should recognize that technology itself is not entirely an independent factor. On the contrary, for environmental as well as political reasons, it may have to undergo a considerable number of demystifying, simplifying, and decentralizing changes.[46]

A second major problem-area has to do with the conditions under which revolutionary workers' control can succeed. We have already noted the immediate political condition, namely, that the factory-level and state-level processes come to fruition simultaneously. This is partly a matter of conscious decisions, about which more will be said in a moment, but it is also a matter of the economic and cultural characteristics of the society in question. Regarding this background dimension, our survey has suggested that there are many possible situations--some of them even mutually exclusive--which may prove favorable to workers' control. While the self-management impulse has always been a component of urban revolutionary movements, it has sometimes--as in Spain--appeared in even stronger form in rural settings. Within the industrial sector, it has sometimes been associated with heavy industry (Italy) and sometimes with light (Spain). Although usually associated with non-dependent economies, workers' control has also become an issue in Third World countries (Chile and also Algeria). Within Europe, although the most radical thrusts have occurred in the relatively less prosperous countries (Spain, Portugal), the potential for workers' control continues to grow even in the foremost welfare state (Sweden). Related to this, if we consider the major political frameworks of military dictatorship, constitutional democracy, and People's Democracy, we find self-management initiatives arising in all three (1918 Germany, 1972 Chile, 1968 Czechoslavakia). Finally, there may be considerable variation in terms of such immediate circumstances as war and peace, economic crisis, and fascist threats.

All this does not add up to any theory as to where workers' control is most likely, but it does tell us that there is no single factor, which automatically excludes it. The role of conscious choice must therefore be a large one. Among the objective factors, the only one that clearly facilitates such a choice is the existence of an established cooperative tradition. This was something real in many of Spain's rural areas, and the urban workers were not yet remote from it. The challenge elsewhere, then, is to develop some equivalent to such a culture while still relating to immediate political options. The question of leadership, which this raises, is the final major problem-area that we must consider. What seems to be needed, in effect, is a revolutionary party which would give priority to workers' control at every stage of its development. The difficulty of such a project is already clear.

Being serious about workers' control means foregoing a certain type of discipline, while being seriously revolutionary means taking steps that are not limited by workplace perceptions. The possibility of meeting both these requirements is suggested by some of the experiences we have looked at, but a firm synthesis must be more systematic. It must recall Marx's emphasis on the work process, his interest in cooperative forms, and his distrust of "leaders."[48] Recognizing these facets as having been systematically downplayed in the Leninist tradition, the new synthesis must accept the importance of what Gaston Leval calls, concluding his book on Spain, "the capacity to organize the new society quickly."[49] The latter process is one which depends not only on thorough preparation but also on broad human involvement. If a party is needed, it is more for the movement's self-protection than for any other purpose. The movement's objectives will alert it to the limits of discipline, but its history will warn it of the risks of spontaneity.



1. Unless otherwise specified, the term "workers' control" will be taken as synonymous with "self-management." Each term may be applied, depending on context, either to particular workplaces or to an entire society.

2. Jean-Luc Dallemagne, Autogestion ou dictature du proletariat (Paris, 1976), p. 114.

3. Yvon Bourdet and Alain Guillerm, L'Autogestion (Paris, 1975), ch. VII.

4. For two excellent recent examples, see Jeff Lustig, "On Organization: The Question of the
Leninist Party," Politics and Society VII (1977-78), 27-67, and Carl Boggs, "Marxism,
Prefigurative Communism, and the Problem of Workers' Control," Radical America XI-XII
(November 1977-February 1978), 99-122.

5. See Scandinavian Review, special issue on "Industrial Democracy" edited by Martin
Peterson (June 1977).

6. On China, see Barry M. Richman, Industrial Society in Communist China (New York,
1969), ch. IX: the key body ranking above the director is the party committee, and "a majority of the enterprises did not have any workers on their party committees" (p. 762). On
Yugoslavia, see Bourdet and Guillerm, Autogestion, esp. p. 174.

7. It is along these lines that Jean-Francois Revel tries to dismiss self-management as a non-existent alternative to social democracy and Stalinism. La tentation totalitaire (Paris,
1976), pp. 167-74. It should be noted that his remarks on the dynamics of self-management
(p. 169) tacitly assume a capitalist environment.

8. See, e.g., his expression of support for the factory committees, quoted in Tony Cliff, Lenin, vol. 2 (London, 1976), p. 244. For background on this issue, see E. H. Carr, The Bolshevik
Revolution, 1917-1923, vol. 2 (London 1952), pp. 62-79.

9. V.I. Lenin, "The Immediate Tasks of the Soviet Government" (April 1918), in Selected
Works. 1-vol. ed. (New York, 1971), p. 424 (Lenin's emphasis).

10. Maurice Brinton, The Bolsheviks and Workers' Control (London, 1970), p. 12.

11. Lenin, "The Taylor System--Man's Enslavement by the Machine" (March 1914), Collected Works, vol. 20, pp. 153f. Lenin's criticism refers to the distribution of labor and of the product rather than to the way the work is carried out.

12. Voline (V.M. Eichenbaum), The Unknown Revolution, 1917-1921 (New York, 1975), pp.

13. Lenin, "'Left-Wing' Childishness and the Petty Bourgeois Mentality" (March 1918), Selected Works, p. 451.

14. Paul Avrich, The Russian Anarchists (Princeton, 1967), pp.162f.

15. Voline, The Unknown Revolution, p. 294.

16. “‘Left-Wing’ Childishness,” Selected Works, p. 440.

17. Ibid., p. 444 (Lenin's emphasis).

18. Ibid., p. 448.

19. On current practices, see M. Holubenko, "The Soviet Working Class: Discontent and
Opposition," Critique, No. 4 (Spring 1975), esp. p. 23.

20. Dallemagne, arguing along Leninist lines, defends such assumptions on the ground that production relations have not reached a high enough level to supersede them (Autogestion
ou dictature, p.122); however, when he comes to the question of how such a level is to be reached, i.e., specifically, of how the working class, after its demobilization under bureaucratic rule, is to be "remobilized" (pp. 248f), all he can offer are some abstract imperatives.

21. Paolo Spriano, The Occupation of the Factories: Italy 1920 (London, 1975), pp. 105, 131.

22. Ibid., p. 57.

23. Ibid., p. 44.

24. Gaetano Salvemini, The Origins of Fascism in Italy (New York, 1973), p. 278.

25. John M. Cammett, Antonio Gramsci and the Origins of Italian Communism (Stanford,
1967), p. 117.

26. Ibid., p. 121.

27. Spriano, The Occupation, p. 84.

28. Gwyn A. Williams, Proletarian Order: Antonio Gramsci, Factory Councils, and the Origins of Italian Communism, 1911-1921 (London, 1975), pp. 246 f.

29. Cammett, Antonio Gramsci, p. 22.

30. Giuliano Procacci, Storia degli italiani (Bari, 1971), p. 395.

31. Antonio Gramsci, "Unions and Councils" (October 11, 1919), in Selections from Political
Writings (1910-1920), ed. Q. Hoare (New York, 1977), p. 100.

32. Based on Gaston Leval, Collectives in the Spanish Revolution (London, 1975), and on Sam
Dolgoff (ed.), The Anarchist Collectives: Workers' Self-Management in the Spanish Revolution, 1936-1939 (Montreal, 1974), esp. chs. 6, 7.

33. Based on Gerald Brenan, The Spanish Labyrinth (Cambridge, England, 1950). Pt. II; Gabriel Jackson, The Spanish Republic and the Civil War, 1931-1939 (Princeton, 1965), ch. 1; and Stanley Payne, The Spanish Revolution (New York, 1970), ch. 2.

34. Pierre Broue and Emile Temime, The Revolution and the Civil War in Spain (Cambridge, Mass., 1970), ch. 5.

35. Ibid., p. 288.

36. Ibid., p. 131.

37. Hugh Thomas, The Spanish Civil War (New York, 1961), p. 436.

38. Quoted, Ibid., p. 366.

39. As The Economist wrote in February 1938, "Intervention by the state in industry, as opposed to collectivization and workers' control, is reestablishing the principle of private property." Quoted in
Broue and Temime, The Revolution and the Civil War, p. 313.

40. For a fuller discussion of the bases of this development, see Maurice Zeitlin, "The Social
Determinants of Political Democracy in Chile," in James Petras and Maurice Zeitlin (eds.),
Latin America: Reform or Revolution? (New York, 1968), and Victor Wallis, "Imperialism and the 'Via Chilena'," Latin American Perspectives, No. 2 (Summer 1974), 44-57.

41. See classification of nationalizations in NACLA, New Chile (New York, 1973).

42. Andrew Zimbalist and James Petras, "Workers' Control in Chile during Allende's
Presidency," Comparative Urban Research III, 3 (1975-76), pp. 25, 27.

43. The best analytic account of these events is in Gabriel Smirnow, La revolucion desarmada: Chile, 1970-1973 (Mexico, 1977).

44. Edward Boorstein, Allende's Chile: An.Inside View (New York, 1977), p. 212.

45. Zimbalist and Petras, "Workers' Control in Chile," p. 25.

46. A striking example would be the decentralizing implications of substituting solar power for nuclear power, See Barry Commoner, The Poverty of Power (New York, 1976).

47. On the significance of Marx's emphasis on the work process, see Harry Braverman, Labor and Monopoly Capital: The Degradation of Work in the Twentieth Century (New York,
1974), Introduction; on Marx's interest in cooperatives, see Yvon Bourdet, "Karl Marx et
l'autogestion," Autogestion, No. 15 (1971), p.102; for Marx's view of "leaders," see his letter to Kugelmann of April 17, 1871, in Marx and Engels, Selected Correspondence
(Moscow, 1953), p. 320.

48. For a survey of the major alternative Marxian tradition, see Dick Howard and Karl E. Klare
(eds.), The Unknown Dimension: European Marxism since Lenin (New York, 1972).

49. Leval, Collectives, p. 354.


Two unique descriptive sources on revolutionary workers' control are Gaston Leval,
Collectives in the Spanish Revolution (New York, 1975) and Parts II & III of Patricio Guzman's film The Battle of Chile, which should be supplemented by a reading of Andrew Zimbalist and James Petras, "Workers' Control in Chile during Allende's Presidency," Comparative Urban Research III, 3 (1975-76), 21-30. A fine general survey incorporating cases up to 1968 is Daniel Guerin, Anarchism (New York, 1970). For representative documents, see Branko Horvat et al. (eds.), Self-Governing Socialism (New York, 1975), vol. I, pp. 146-253. The outstanding theoretical and descriptive treatment is Yvon Bourdet and Alain Guillerm, L'Autogestion (Paris, 1975). A stimulating critique of self-management from a Leninist perspective is Jean-Luc Dallemagne, Autogestion ou dictature du proletariat (Paris, 1976). An indispensable periodical is Autogestion et Socialisme; the only English-language periodicals approaching its coverage are Radical America and Telos.

On revolutionary Russia, Maurice Brinton, The Bolsheviks and Workers' Control
(London, 1970), provides a useful account of the conflict around self-management; as for its actual workings, the as yet largely unpublished work of William G. Rosenberg (History Dept.,
University of Michigan) promises to give the first comprehensive overview. Marcel Liebman,
Leninism under Lenin (London, 1975), is an exceptionally relevant background work. On Italy in 1920, Paolo Spriano, The Occupation of the Factories: Italy 1920 (London, 1975), is essential.

Antonio Gramsci's writings for the workers' newspaper Ordine Nuovo [New Order], now available in a volume of Selectionsà1910-1920 (New York, 1977), have a significance going well beyond the immediate events. On the Spanish revolution, the outstanding general treatment is Pierre Broue and Emile Temime, The Revolution and the Civil War in Spain (Cambridge, Mass.,1970). George Orwell's classic firsthand account, Homage to Catalonia (Boston, l952), is also well worth reading (esp. chs. V, IX). On Allende's Chile, the best historical analysis is Gabriel Smirnow, La revolucion desarmada; Chile, 1970-1973 (Mexico, 1977), translated as The Disarmed Revolution (Monthly Review Press).

[I have discussed additional cases in two subsequent articles: "Workers' Control in
Latin America" (sections on Peru, Chile, Cuba), Latin American Research Review XVIII, 2
(1983), 181-189, and "Workers' Control: Cases from Latin America and the Caribbean" (sections on Cuba, Bolivia, Grenada, Nicaragua), in Jack W. Hopkins (ed.), Latin America and Caribbean Contemporary Record, Vol. 3 (New York, 1985), 254-263. My discussion of Cuba in the latter article led me to qualify my hypothesis about the distinctive importance of the moment of "revolutionary crisis."]


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