The State and Revolution

By V. I. Lenin

“Democracy for an insignificant minority, democracy for the rich — that is the democracy of capitalist society.”

The question of the state is not something that normally occupies the attention of most workers. This is no accident. The state would be of no use for the ruling class if people did not believe that it was something harmless, impartial and above the interests of classes or individuals. However, Marxism teaches us that the state is an instrument for the oppression of the exploited classes by the ruling class. The state cannot be neutral.

Written in the summer of 1917, in the heat of the Russian Revolution, Lenin’s State and Revolution is a key work of Marxism. Here, Lenin explains that, stripped of all non-essentials, the state is in the final analysis “groups of armed men”: the army and the police, in defence of the ruling class.

Today, after years of attacks, we see the working class and youth attempting to shake off capitalist oppression in all corners of the world, thus inevitably colliding with the state. However, as Lenin said, “without revolutionary theory, there can be no revolutionary movement.” To establish socialism, the only solution to the problems faced by the world today, it will not be possible for the working class to use the state as it currently exists, but it needs to overthrow it.

An understanding of the nature of the state is a necessary weapon in the hands of the working class. Lenin’s State and Revolution, one of the most important works of the twentieth century, surveys the analysis of the state by Marx and Engels in the light of the experience of the Russian Revolution, to provide the definitive Marxist explanation on the question. All class-conscious workers should therefore read this book.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wellred
• Release date: Sep 30, 2020
• ISBN: 9781005244767

V. I. Lenin

V.I. Lenin (1870-1924) was a pivotal figure in twentieth century radical politics. He was a theoretician and the leader of the Russian Bolshevik Party. He wrote widely, authoring books such as Imperialism: The Highest Stage of Capitalism (Pluto, 1996). His selected writings were collected in the volume Revolution, Democracy, Socialism (Pluto, 2008).

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Introduction by Alan Woods

The question of the state has always been a fundamental issue for Marxists, occupying a central place in some of the most important texts of Marxism, such as The Origin of the Family, Private Property and the State by Friedrich Engels, and The Eighteenth Brumaire of Louis Bonaparte by Marx.

Yet, strange though it may seem, despite its colossal significance, the question of the state is something that does not normally occupy the attention of even the most advanced workers. This is no accident. The state would be of no use for the ruling class if people did not believe that it was something harmless, impartial and above the interests of classes or individuals – something that was ‘simply there’ and could be taken for granted.

For this very reason, it is not in the interests of the establishment to draw the attention of the masses to the real content of the institutions that we call the state. The constitution, the laws, the army, the police or the ‘justice’ system – all these things are practically taboo within the present system that calls itself a ‘democracy’. It is almost never asked why these institutions exist, or how and when they could be replaced. Any serious discussion about them is considered out of place, unacceptable, or in bad taste – rather like swearing inside a church. At the end of the day, the state is ‘the property of all of us’. Isn’t it?

But things are rarely what they seem. Marxism teaches us that the state (that is to say, every state) is an instrument for the oppression of one class by another. The state cannot be neutral. Already in the Communist Manifesto, written over 150 years ago, Marx and Engels explained that the state is only a committee for managing the common affairs of the whole bourgeoisie. And this really is the case. Whoever controls this system of production ultimately controls the state power.

The origins of state power are rooted in relations of production and not in personal qualities. In early human societies the authority of the tribal chief depended on his bravery in battle, that of the tribal elders on their wisdom, etc. But nowadays the state is run by an army of faceless individuals, anonymous bureaucrats and functionaries, whose authority is conferred upon them by the office they hold and the titles they are given. The state machine is a dehumanised monster that, while theoretically serving the people, in reality stands over them as their lord and master.

The state power in class societies is necessarily centralised, hierarchic and bureaucratic. Originally, it had a religious character and was mixed up with the power of the priest caste. At its apex stood the God-king, and under him an army of officials, the Mandarins, the scribes, overseers, etc. Writing itself was held in awe as a mysterious art known only to these few. Thus, from the very beginning, the offices of the state are mystified. Real social relations appear in an alienated guise.

This is still the case. In Britain, this mystification is deliberately cultivated through ceremony, pomp and tradition. In the USA, it is cultivated by other means: the cult of the President, who represents state power personified. Every form of state power represents the domination of one class over the rest of society. Even in its most democratic form, it stands for the dictatorship of a single class – the ruling class – that class that owns and controls the means of production.

Summing up his historical analysis of the state, Friedrich Engels says:

The state is, therefore, by no means a power forced on society from without; just as little is it the reality of the ethical idea, the image and reality of reason, as Hegel maintains. Rather, it is a product of society at a certain stage of development; it is the admission that this society has become entangled in an insoluble contradiction with itself, that it has split into irreconcilable antagonisms which it is powerless to dispel. But in order that these antagonisms, these classes with conflicting economic interests, might not consume themselves and society in fruitless struggle, it became necessary to have a power, seemingly standing above society, that would alleviate the conflict and keep it within the bounds of ‘order’; and this power, arisen out of society but placing itself above it, and alienating itself more and more from it, is the state. (F. Engels, The Origin of the Family, Private Property and the State.)

After Engels’ seminal work, without doubt the book that best explains the essence of the Marxist theory of the state is Lenin’s State and Revolution, one of the most important works of the twentieth century. Written in the summer of 1917 in the heat of the Russian Revolution, it is a key work of Marxism. Here, Lenin explains that, stripped of all non-essentials, the state is in the final analysis groups of armed men: the army and the police. It represents an organ of repression of one class over another.

The reformists and the state

Bourgeois legal theory regards the state as an impartial arbiter standing above classes and particular interests. This view is shared by the reformists of all varieties. But it ignores the fundamental fact that the essence of every state, with its armed bodies of men, police, courts and other trappings, is that it serves the interests of one class in society. In the case of capitalism, this is the capitalist class.

The celebrated French author Anatole France wrote: "The law, in its majestic equality, forbids the rich as well as the poor to sleep under bridges, to beg in the streets, and to steal bread. Centuries earlier Solon the Great, the author of the constitution of Athens who knew a thing or two about constitutions and laws, made the following observation: The law is like a spider’s web; the small are caught, and the great tear it up." These words show the reality of bourgeois legality with pitiless realism.

Under a regime of formal bourgeois democracy like Britain, the USA or Sweden, anyone can say (more or less) what they wish, as long as the banks and big monopolies decide what happens. In other words, bourgeois democracy is just another way of expressing the dictatorship of big business. This assertion can easily be demonstrated by the experience of social democratic governments for decades.

Over a long historical period, particularly during periods of prosperity and relative class calm, a thick crust of bureaucracy forms, which acts as a powerful brake on the workers’ movement and is therefore the main line of defence of the capitalist class. In the same way that the state raises itself above society, so the reformist bureaucracy of the Social Democracy and the trade unions raises itself above the working class and dominates it.

The task of this bureaucracy is not to uphold the principles of democracy but rather to protect the material interests of a bloated and pampered caste of officials that exercises control over the workers and the youth. In this respect also the Social Democracy closely resembles the bourgeois state that it so loyally serves.

How the ruling class conceals the nature of the state

The British ruling class, which has perfected the state as an efficient organ of domination, cunningly conceals its domination behind a thick curtain of tradition, pomp and ceremony inherited from medieval barbarism. The monarchy, for example, is presented as an innocent institution that stands above social class and politics, like an old picture over the mantlepiece that has been there for so long that nobody bothers to look at it any more.

The most advanced people on the Left have failed to understand the real nature of the British monarchy, regarding it as a harmless anachronism. Even those who profess to hold republican views usually confine their criticisms to stating the obvious: that it is a shameful waste of money. But these superficial criticisms completely fail to grasp the real reactionary essence of the monarchy.

It is necessary to understand that the monarchy is not simply a harmless anachronism with no powers. It is an important reserve weapon of reaction. The Queen has significant reserve powers, which can be brought into play at a time of national crisis. Such powers would undoubtedly be used against a left Labour government that attempted to challenge the power and privileges of the big banks and monopolies that own and control most of Britain. Although most people do not realise it, this is the main role of the monarchy and the reason why it has been kept in being by the ruling class for so long.

Recently, the real powers of the British monarchy were shown when the Queen, following the ‘advice’ of the reactionary Tory, Boris Johnson, prorogued parliament ( that is, suspended it). An unelected prime minister and an unelected monarch jointly decided to suspend an elected parliament! It caused a bit of a stir and was eventually overturned by a panel of (equally unelected) judges. But this little incident served to expose the real nature of the monarchy. It is a warning for any future Labour government that tries to carry out a fundamental change in society.

This fact was explained in admirably frank terms by the nineteenth century author of the best-known work on the English Constitution, who, referring in unflattering language to Queen Victoria and Albert Prince of Wales, asked why the British people should pay a large amount of money every year in order to maintain a retired widow and an unemployed youth. And he answered in the following way:

For the educated thousands there is the ‘efficient’ aspect, the whole system of Parliaments, Cabinets, Party Government, and the rest. For the unintelligent millions there is the ‘dignified’ aspect (described also as ‘theatrical’, ‘mystical’, ‘religious’, or ‘semi-religious’), which delights the eye, stirs the imagination, supplies motive power to the whole political system, and yet never strains the intellectual resources of the most ignorant or the most stupid. It is, of course, bound up with the Monarchy; indeed, to all intents and purposes it is the Monarchy. (Walter Bagehot, The English Constitution, p. xviii.)

And again:

We have no slaves to keep down by special terrors and independent legislation. But we have whole classes unable to comprehend the idea of a constitution – unable to feel the least attachment to impersonal laws. Most do indeed vaguely know that there are some other institutions besides the Queen, and some rules by which she governs. But a vast number like their minds to dwell more upon her than upon anything else, and therefore she is inestimable. A Republic has only difficult ideas in government; a Constitutional Monarchy has an easy idea too; it has a comprehensible element for the vacant many, as well as complex laws and notions for the inquiring few. (Ibid., p. 34.)

This is very clear. The ‘ignorant masses’ do not understand politics and cannot really be trusted with the vote. But, since they have conquered the right to vote, we must devise a kind of pantomime to keep them happy, while the real exercise of power is kept firmly in our hands:

Lastly. Constitutional royalty has the function which I insisted on at length in my last essay, and which, though it is by far the greatest, I need not now enlarge upon again. It acts as a disguise. It enables our real rulers to change without heedless people knowing it. The masses of Englishmen are not fit for an elective government; if they knew how near they were to it, they would be surprised, and almost tremble. (Ibid., p. 48.)

It is worth spending a certain amount of hard cash on ceremony and glitter in order to divert attention away from the real state of affairs. It is essential that the masses believe in the monarchy, and therefore this is a worthwhile investment, just like any other. It is also a necessary insurance policy, in case things go badly wrong. Unlike other countries, Britain does not have a written constitution, and most laws are based upon custom and practice. But for that very reason, there are many grey areas. For example, what would happen in the case of an elected government, which attempted to take over the banks and monopolies? Bagehot answers with his customary frankness:

It may perhaps be replied that, if a majority of the House of Commons want a revolution they ought to have one; and no doubt if the House of Commons on this point fully represented the settled convictions of the community the reply suffices. But if not? Is there any means of ensuring that in these extreme cases the House of Commons would represent the settled will of the community? Is there any ground for expecting that our Cabinet system, admirably fitted to adjust political action to the ordinary oscillations of public opinion, could deal with these violent situations? Could it long survive the shocks of revolutionary and counter-revolutionary violence? I know not. The experiment has never been tried. Our alternating Cabinets, though belonging to different Parties, have never differed about the foundations of society. And it is evident that our whole political machinery pre-supposes a people so fundamentally at one that they can safely afford to bicker; and so sure of their own moderation that they are not dangerously disturbed by the never-ending din of political conflict. May it always be so. (Ibid., pp. xxiii-xxiv.)

A reserve weapon of reaction

Under normal circumstances, the contradictions in British society can be safely channelled through the institutions of parliamentary democracy. But what happens when this no longer applies? What happens when the class struggle reaches such extremes that it transcends the limits of bourgeois parliamentary democracy? More importantly, what happens if Parliament itself, under the pressure of the masses, tries to implement revolutionary change?

In such a situation, Bagehot explains the role of the monarchy. After all, the army swears an oath of allegiance to the ruling monarch, not to the elected parliament. The Queen’s signature