It is hard to imagine why a writer who has not published a single work on the workers’ movement and had no previous connection to a revolutionary organisation would accept the complex task of writing a biography of Leon Trotsky.

One clue as to why Josh Ireland would accept the daunting challenge can be found on his acknowledgement page. Apart from Isaac Deutcher, Ireland thanked several right-wing historians and writers, including Stephen Kotkin. Recently, the politically loathsome Kotkin wrote:

“Why should anyone care about Leon Trotsky in this day and age? A Marxist revolutionary who opposed but ultimately joined forces with Vladimir Lenin, he fought his entire life against markets and private property, parliaments and the rule of law, defending the Soviet state even as he denounced its leader, Joseph Stalin. That utopia imploded in ignominy decades ago.[1]

Kotkin’s love of Stalin notwithstanding, one reason for these right-wingers’ ire at Trotsky’s popularity lies in a recent survey by the Cato Institute and YouGov. A significant number, 62 per cent of Americans aged 18–29, say they hold a “favourable view” of socialism, and 34 per cent say the same of communism.

These statistics and others caused the rapid right-wing Cato Institute and one of its attack dogs, Michael Chapman, to vomit up this unhinged comment: “This is shocking given that communism is responsible for 100 million deaths worldwide and is rooted in socialism, the same philosophy that spawned both Mussolini’s fascism and Hitler’s National Socialism. To favour socialism is to flirt with tyranny. Therefore, libertarians must educate more Americans to recognise the socialist actions of big government and fight against them. As Friedrich Hayek warned in The Road to Serfdom, “the rise of fascism and Marxism was not a reaction against the socialist trends of the preceding period but a necessary outcome of those tendencies.” He also noted that both Mussolini and Hitler started as socialists.”[2]

Ireland’s ideological friend, Kotkin, who wrote a multi-volume biography of Joseph Stalin, has received widespread attention in both bourgeois and academic circles. From a Marxist standpoint, Kotkin’s work and Ireland’s work, for that matter, must be judged not as neutral scholarship but as political interventions. Kotkin’s method and conclusions, like Ireland’s, distort class relations, which serve the ruling-class and petit-bourgeois ideological needs.

Ireland adopts a historiographical posture that substitutes personality-centred narration and postmodern relativism for a class analysis of social forces. This method raises the fundamental question: which social classes and material relations produced Stalinism and made the bureaucratic caste politically dominant? By treating Stalin as the decisive, almost autonomous actor—rather than a product and amplifier of objective social transformations and bureaucratic interests Ireland reproduces a bourgeois individualised account of history that obscures the social foundations of political power. His book contains factual distortions and a very selective use of sources.

Ireland’s The Death of Trotsky joins a very crowded market of books that adopt a journalistic tone or are popular history treatments, such as Allan Todd’s Trotsky: The Passionate Revolutionary.[3] Ireland’s book from the very start treats  Leon Trotsky’s murder in Mexico in 1940 in the manner of an individual crime story rather than a political episode which was the product of social forces, state power, in the form of the Stalinist bureaucracy.

One of Ireland’s more monstrous claims is that Stalinism was historically inevitable and that Trotsky would have acted in the same way had he defeated Stalin. Ireland’s is a teleological and ahistorical argument that collapses political struggle into fatalism. The rise of the bureaucracy was conditioned by objective isolation and by social forces inside the USSR; it was not the only possible outcome. I would offer a Marxist counterfactual viewpoint, based on the program and documented alternatives of the Left Opposition, which reveals genuine strategic alternatives that were politically feasible yet suppressed by the bureaucracy.[4]

One of the hallmarks of a serious historian is examining all the most important documents or books relevant to the subject matter. This extensive search entails copious reading and attending to the most significant archival research. However, on the latter, it is perhaps extraordinary, though not entirely fatal, that Ireland only visited two archives.

Ireland’s book examines a limited amount of standard facts, such as the GPU (Stalin’s secret police), conducting a prolonged campaign of infiltration, frame-ups and political preparation that culminated in the May 24, 1940, raid led by David Alfaro Siqueiros and the successful August 20–21 assassination by Ramón Mercader.

These stand-out facts are available almost anywhere on the internet. What troubles me greatly is that Ireland and a host of other historians writing about the assassination of Leon Trotsky refuse, point-blank, to either look at or mention the copious amounts of detailed information, including a major ongoing investigation called Security and the Fourth International, available on the World Socialist Website. Writers from the International Committee of the Fourth International and the WSWS have reviewed the facts of the case. Much of the work is groundbreaking and contains information about the assassination that no one else has uncovered. (See, for example, the ICFI’s investigation and David North’s “Trotsky’s Last Year”.[5] The ICFI/WSWS lectures and reports on the GPU plot and its methods, and Eric London’s Agents, The FBI and GPU Infiltration of the Trotskyist Movement. Ireland is either a lazy historian or is ideologically driven to ignore sources from a left-wing perspective that would counter his right-wing narrative.

As the great historian E.H Carr would always say, study the historian before you study the history. In Ireland’s case, this is put on a plate when he made the following comments: “Some writers are frauds, a good number are competent, a select few are geniuses, but all of them are procrastinators. I was a procrastinator long before I was a writer; I think it was my talent for procrastination that made me believe I might have what it took to become one. And now that I am, theoretically, paid to put words on a page, procrastination still occupies the bigger part of my day. My most productive form of procrastination is looking at old photos, specifically of the men and women I’m writing about, even more specifically, the clothes that they wear. Some of this is similar to the pleasure one gets from scrolling through a chic person’s Instagram account or a well-styled lookbook: it’s nice to see interesting people wearing interesting clothes! But I also see it as a valuable avenue of historical and psychological enquiry.

The aesthetic choices people make are as revealing of their personality and predilections as other sources, such as diaries or letters. When we dress, we make a series of choices. Even when we think we’re not making a choice – perhaps because we dress conventionally, according to the fashions or conventions of our time or place; or because we tell ourselves that we don’t care about what we wear – we are showing people something about how we view the world and how we want to engage with it.[6] This quote tells a lot about how Ireland sees the world.

The struggle between Trotsky and Stalin was one of the most important political events of the 20^th century and still has a contemporary resonance. Ireland presents this struggle as a personal one. However, the conflict between Leon Trotsky and Joseph Stalin was not merely a personal rivalry. It was a political-ideological struggle rooted in concrete class interests and the social transformations set in motion by the October Revolution, the Civil War, and the New Economic Policy (NEP). Read dialectically, the confrontation expressed opposing responses to the objective problems of building proletarian power amid economic backwardness, bureaucratic growth and international capitalist restoration.

Josh Ireland’s book, like other contributions from the milieu of post‑Soviet revisionism, must be assessed not as isolated quarrels over biography but as political products of a social and ideological conjuncture. From a Marxist, materialist standpoint, the central question is: what class interests and social forces underlie attempts to belittle Trotsky and erase the political alternatives he represented?

Definite social forces produce the post‑Soviet revisionism and the diminishment of Trotsky’s role. Ireland’s work serves bourgeois material interests and distorts the concrete historical record.

Leon Trotsky is not merely a biographical subject; his work and most importantly, the Theory of Permanent Revolution, his critique of bureaucratic degeneration, and the founding program of the Fourth International, represent an alternative political program to both capitalist restoration and Stalinist bureaucracy. Attempts to reduce Trotsky to a marginal, unreliable, or merely rhetorical figure are not neutral scholarly disputes. They are political operations that, intentionally or not, assist bourgeois ideological currents by obscuring revolutionary perspectives and legitimating the outcomes of Stalinism and post‑Soviet capitalism.

Josh Ireland’s writings participate in the post‑Soviet critique and reproduce its tendencies—then they must be read as part of that broader ideological current. Whether the aim is to reduce Trotsky to a marginal figure, to treat his writings as unreliable, or to portray Stalinist outcomes as inevitable, these propositions are political positions rooted in the shifting balance of class forces since 1991: the restoration of capitalist power in the former USSR, the triumph of market ideology, and the need among sections of the intelligentsia to reconcile with the new order.

The revival of post‑Soviet falsification is not an abstract scholarly quarrel; it corresponds to real political danger today—weakening the capacity of workers to recognise the need for independent organisation and a revolutionary program.

[1] The moral squalor stemming from communist conviction-www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/2026/02/20/leon-trotsky-soviet-communism/

[2] Young Americans Like Socialism Too Much—That’s a Problem Libertarians Must Fix-https://www.cato.org/blog/young-americans-socialism-too-much-thats-problem-libertarians-must-fix

[3] See-keith-perspective.blogspot.com/2026/02/trotsky-passionate-revolutionary-by.html

[4] Was There An Alternative -Vadim Rogovin-Mehring Books 2021

[5] Trotsky’s Last Year-1-6 http://www.wsws.org/en/articles/2020/08/20/anni-a20.html

[6] On Trotsky & Procrastination-www.williamcrabtree.co.uk/blogs/news

 “The women of the property-owning class will always fanatically defend the exploitation and enslavement of the working people, by which they indirectly receive the means for their socially useless existence.”

Rosa Luxemburg

Naomi Baker’s new book is to be commended as she has rescued a significant number of radical Women of the seventeenth century from what E.P. Thompson once called the “enormous condescension of posterity”.[1] History and Historians in general have not been kind to women who were radicalised during the English Revolution. There is a dearth of material on women’s struggle. No major biography exists of two of the most important Leveller women, Katherine Chidley and Elizabeth Lilburne.

Baker is a senior lecturer in English Literature at the University of Manchester. Her new book is well written and is a meticulous examination of women who not only had to battle against their male counterparts but also had to struggle against the violent attacks of the English aristocracy and sections of the bourgeoisie who refused to accept their democratic right to protest against social inequality and tyranny.

Radical Religious Women of the Seventeenth Century is set within the context of the long political crisis of the 17th century, which saw commercial expansion, the rise of towns and manufacturers, a crisis of monarchy and landed privilege, and produced an explosive alignment of forces. As Frederick Engels shows,

“When Europe emerged from the Middle Ages, the rising middle-class of the towns constituted its revolutionary element. It had conquered a recognised position within medieval feudal organisation, but this position, too, had become too narrow for its expansive power. The development of the middle-class, the bourgeoisie, became incompatible with the maintenance of the feudal system; the feudal system, therefore, had to fall.”[2]

As Engel correctly states, the seventeenth century was a period of social and economic upheaval in which religious dissent fused with emerging political and social currents. The decomposition of feudalism led to the emergence of new classes and struggles. The rapid growth of sects like the Quakers and Ranters, which fueled peasant and urban uprisings, was bound up with transformations in production and class alignments.

Women such as Anne Hutchinson, Margaret Fell,  Lady Anne Conway, Katherine Chidley, and the many unnamed women who participated in sects (Quakers, Ranters, Levellers’ sympathisers, and radical Baptists) played vital roles in contesting clerical and state authority, defending popular religious autonomy, and advancing early arguments for conscience, equality and popular rights. Their struggles are best understood as part of the bourgeois revolutions and the awakening of radical thought, which began with the Reformation and culminated in the 1640 English bourgeois revolution.

Religious sects took full advantage of the world turned upside down, undertaking radical pamphleteering and mass mobilisation. This created political spaces where women, both poor and rich, could express themselves as radicals, preachers, writers, and organisers. Baker believes there was no single “school”; women appeared across all economic, political, and social tendencies, but upon reading the book, it seems a significant number were protesting against social inequality. As Christopher Hill observed, the English Revolution helped many women both to establish their own independence and to visualise a total escape for the poorer classes. It was the poorer classes that suffered the greatest degradation regularly through jail, torture, war and disease.

Margaret Fell was a Quaker who combined religious dissent with organisational work within meetings and through pamphlets, arguing for spiritual equality in ways that had political consequences. The Levellers included women like Katherine Chidley, who wrote, “Have we not an equal interest with the men of this Nation, in those liberties and securities contained in the Petition of Right, and the other good laws of the land? Are any of our lives, limbs, liberties or goods to be taken from us more than from men, but by due process of law and conviction of twelve sworn men of the neighbourhood”?[3]

Leveller women like Chidley supported petitions, military grievances, and political club activity; they pressed for legal changes and denounced arbitrary power. Ranters and some Diggers, though numerically smaller, pushed the limits of acceptable discourse, challenging sexual, familial, and proprietary norms. Large numbers of women-led relief networks, parochial committees and protests against price rises and conscription-like abuses, linking economic suffering to political demands.

These activities were expressions of class interests formed by material necessity: survival, defence of household livelihoods, resistance to arbitrary levies and enclosures. For many women, the fight for social and political equality would be their first involvement in politics. It can be said without contradiction that women like Katherine Chidley and Elizabeth Lilburne laid the basis for future struggles of working-class women, such as the suffragettes.

The phenomenon of radical religious women in the seventeenth century — sectarians, prophetic preachers, petitioners and organisers among Quakers, Ranters, Baptists and other sects should be grasped scientifically by placing it in the framework of historical materialism. These women did not act in a vacuum: their ideas, forms of organisation and modes of struggle were rooted in shifting modes of production, class relations and state power.

Marxism begins from the premise that the economic base shapes the ideological superstructure. Religious movements did not float free of material life; they arose from and reflect concrete social relations. As Karl Marx maintained, there is a dialectical relationship between the economic base and the ideological superstructure writing in the book A Contribution to the Critique of Political Economy he makes the following point  “In the social production of their existence, men inevitably enter into definite relations, which are independent of their will, namely relations of production appropriate to a given stage in the development of their material forces of production. The totality of these relations of production constitutes the economic structure of society, the real foundation, on which arises a legal and political superstructure and to which correspond definite forms of social consciousness. The mode of production of material life conditions the general process of social, political and intellectual life.”[4]

Acts carried out by female radicals should be analysed dialectically: the religious idiom contained egalitarian content (an attack on hierarchical priesthood, the struggle for spiritual equality developed into political militancy, but it also carried conservative potential that confined it to moral appeals without linking it to collective economic struggle.

Naomi Baker’s” interest in seventeenth-century radical religious women is commendable, but the struggle of these women should be treated as a social phenomenon rooted in material conditions. Individual biographies and religious language matter, but only within a historical‑materialist account that connects ideas to class relations, production, and the state.

Radical women who expressed religious language or organised through faith-based networks must be analysed in relation to the continuity of such traditions. Are the struggles of these women grounded just in the defence of household subsistence, wages, or communal relief, or do they articulate wider class demands? Seventeenth-century women were moved from religious protest to political action; their modern counterparts must be evaluated by whether their struggles advance class action or merely moral protest.

There is a Contemporary relevance to this book. For a Marxist, the emancipation of women is inseparable from the socialist revolution. Historically, religious radicalism only played a progressive role when it politicised oppressed layers and helped forge independent class organisations. But it becomes reactionary when it replaced class struggle with appeals to conscience, charity, or bourgeois courts. Thus, comparing Naomi Baker’s seventeenth-century radical women with today’s radicals is useful only to the extent that it helps activists draw lessons for the upcoming socialist revolution.

[1]  E. P. Thompson, The Making of the English Working Class (New York: Vintage Books, 1963), 12.

[2] Socialism: Utopian and Scientific- Friedrich Engels, 1880

[3] Women’s Petition (1649)-From J. O’Faolain and L Martines, Not in God’s Image (New York: Harper and Row, 1973), pp. 266-267.

[4] A Contribution to the Critique of Political Economy

Richard Wright’s Uncle Tom’s Children is a collection of essays that brutally exposes what it was like to live in the United States as a Black worker in the early 20^th century.

Born in 1908, Richard Wright is by far one of the most important working-class writers of the 20th century. His major works, Black Boy, Native Son, and his essays are not merely literary achievements; they are social documents that analyse how material conditions, class relations, and racial domination shape consciousness and behaviour. Wright’s development from a Southern sharecropper’s son to a writer who engaged with Communist and socialist circles in the 1930s exemplifies the dialectical relation between objective social conditions and subjective formation: economic precarity, social exclusion and how the violence of Jim Crow produced a political sensibility that sought collective, systemic remedies rather than individualised responses.

Wright’s method is fundamentally Marxist in orientation, even if he did not always fully self-identify as an orthodox Marxist. This is evident in his attitude toward Leon Trotsky. Wright was strongly attracted to Marxist analysis and to anti‑Stalinist critiques. Many intellectuals of Wright’s generation viewed Trotsky, who combined a searching analysis of the Soviet degeneration with a firm commitment to working‑class internationalism, as a compelling theoretical and moral reference. Trotsky’s dialectical materialist method and his insistence that the proletariat must be politically independent of bourgeois and bureaucratic forces resonated with anti‑racist writers who refused to subordinate the struggle of Black people to existing parties and state apparatuses.

Wright was not a Trotskyist in the doctrinal sense of an allegiance to the Fourth International; rather, his attraction to Trotskyist ideas was of the intellectual and moral kind: Trotsky’s critique of Stalinism, his emphasis on world revolution, and his analysis of how class relations shape consciousness offered resources for Wright’s own attempts to understand the racial question within world capitalism.

His characters in Uncle Tom’s Children show that racism is not a metaphysical or cultural “essence” but a social relation rooted in property, labour markets and the political organisation of capitalist society. Bigger Thomas in Native Son is comprehensible not as an expression of immutable racial pathology, but as the product of exclusion, proletarianization, and the social powerlessness imposed by capitalist and racial rule. Wright adopts a materialist conception of history to understand the social, economic, and political problems facing both black and white populations. The black working class holds that ideas and racial ideologies arise from and reflect class structures and economic imperatives, not the other way around.

Like many intellectuals and workers, Wright’s formative years and his political maturation occurred amid the Great Depression, the growth of industrial labour militancy, the rise of the Communist movement in the United States, and the international polarisations of the 1930s and 1940s. These were years in which the boundaries between cultural expression and political struggle blurred: literature became a form of social investigation and a weapon for political education.

Wright’s involvement with left-wing circles, his brushes with Communist Party orthodoxy, and his eventual break illustrate the complex interplay among revolutionary aspiration, the bureaucratic limitations of existing organisations, and the need for a revolutionary strategy rooted in the working class. His later travels and expatriation in Paris also reflect the international character of his struggle.

Richard Wright’s literature—from Black Boy to Native Son—remains an essential starting point for any serious discussion of race, class and the social psychology of oppression in the United States. Wright wrote as a proletarian intellectual: his fiction and essays insist that the oppression of Black people is rooted not in a metaphysical “racial DNA” but in specific social relations—segregated labour markets, violent property relations and the structural violence of capitalism.

Wright’s work traces how poverty, wage labour, discrimination and the threat of racial violence shape individual psychology and mass politics. In Native Son, Bigger Thomas’s crimes are not metaphysical expressions of an immutable racial pathology; they are the social consequences of exclusion, desperate material conditions and systemic dehumanisation. Wright’s political development—his engagement with communist and socialist circles in the 1930s—further grounded his view that the fight against racism must be situated within the struggle against capitalism and private property.

It is a testament to his political foresight and integrity that his books are still widely read today and remain relevant. Wright’s insistence that liberation requires systemic change remains crucial as workers today confront mass poverty, racist policing, mass incarceration and an economy reorganised around austerity and profit. The ruling class weaponises racism to prevent working-class unity; Wright’s work shows the political cost of accepting explanations that dissociate race from class and capitalism.

Wright’s political insights have even greater resonance in today’s debates, such as the controversy surrounding the New York Times’ 1619 Project, which presented a racialist view of historical developments. The Socialist Equality Party (SEP) critiqued the 1619 Project. Extensive documentation of this struggle can be found on the World Socialist Website.[1]

The SEP argued that the 1619 Project substituted racialist narratives for class analysis and treated racism as an immutable feature of American “DNA” rather than a historically specific product of capitalist development. Wright was not mentioned in the 1619 Project. For good reason, his materialist orientation not only cuts across the 1619 Project’s racialist interpretation of history, but also offers an antidote: it compels us to analyse how slavery, Jim Crow, segregation, migration, and proletarianization transformed social relations and created class potentialities for solidarity, unionism, and revolutionary politics.

To summarise from the standpoint of contemporary political life, Wright’s life and work underscore the necessity of connecting literary and intellectual inquiry to an independent working-class political struggle. Richard Wright remains a living challenge to the politics of identity that divorces race from class. His materialist, proletarian humanism points the way: the liberation of Black people is bound to the emancipation of the working class as a whole. Only through a united, politically independent working‑class struggle can the social relations that produce racism be abolished. Richard Wright’s legacy is both cultural and political: he challenges fatalism, rejects racial essentialism, and insists that emancipation requires transforming the social relations of production. His work remains a vital resource as a class-based alternative to capitalism.

[1] The New York Timesâ 1619 Project and the Racialist Falsification of History

David North; Thomas Mackaman-Mehring Books

 “ A Libel Against Humanity”

David Walsh

‘The Satan of our cosmology is the Second Law of Thermodynamics, which implies that everything is running down. Life is … a local contradiction of this law … [it] refuses to submit … and rewinds itself up again.’

William Golding

Anyone who moved through those years, without understanding that man produces evil as a bee produces honey, must have been blind or wrong in the head.”

Wiliam Golding

Lord of the Flies, written in the aftermath of the Second World War, is essentially a “libel against humanity”. The book’s plot line follows a group of largely public schoolboys who descend into savagery at the drop of a hat after being stranded on a deserted island.  While Golding argues that “man produces evil as a bee produces honey,” he rejects the premise that the boys’ behaviour could be socially constructed. Golding believes violence is a default setting of humanity and not a condition of the competitive, capitalist and class-divided society in which the boys were raised.

A class analysis would indicate that Ralph and Piggy are members of the ruling elite representing the liberal-democratic order and that both exhibit “bourgeois” values. Jack would be the totalitarian/militarist, portraying the rise of fascism or the expression of Stalinism, valuing strength and production (meat) over intellectualism and law.

Piggy’s alienation and death could be explained by his lower-class status (indicated by his accent and physical limitations), showing that an irrational” democratic system fails to protect those it deems inferior.  Golding believed that it would not take much for civilisation after the Second World War to suffer the same fate as the boys. A Marxist would argue that the novel reflects the “political subconscious” of the Cold War era, in which the fear of nuclear war and the struggle between democracy and communism are projected onto the children’s conflict.

As Alexander Lee points out in a recent article, Golding’s postwar irrational vulnerabilities were preceded by Yevgeny Zamyatin’s We (1924) and Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World (1932), which had already pointed to a dystopian future in which rationalism and science run amok, destroying morality. In 1941, a Mass Observation Report found that a majority of British people believed that science was ‘out of control’.

Such was the toxic atmosphere created by the post-war period, by the American state and ruling class when they carried out a purge of socialist and left-wing views from film, writing and culture as a whole. Golding’s opinions, as presented in Lord of the Flies (1954), which present violence and atavism as central to the human condition, were already being expressed by other writers during this period.

However, William Golding’s novels are not merely literary artefacts; read dialectically, they are tools for political education—revealing how ideas, institutions and everyday relations reproduce domination, and pointing to why only organised working-class struggle can overturn the conditions that give rise to the very tragedies he depicts.

David North puts this better when he says, “Most of you are, I am sure, familiar with William Golding’s Lord of the Flies, which argues that barbarism is the natural condition of humanity. Release a group of ordinary school boys from the usual restraints of civilisation and they will, within a few weeks, revert to a state of homicidal savagery. This misanthropic work flowed from the conclusions drawn by Golding from the experiences of the Second World War. “Anyone who moved through those years,” he later wrote, “without understanding that man produces evil as a bee produces honey, must have been blind or wrong in the head. The popularity of Lord of the Flies reflected the bewilderment and despair provoked by the horrors of World War II. This mood was strengthened by the political relations that arose in the aftermath of the war. It became more challenging to engage in a discussion of the nature of the Third Reich after 1945 than before. In the reactionary political environment of the Cold War, it was no longer considered appropriate, especially in the United States, to dwell too seriously on the relation between fascism and modern capitalism.”[1]

In his defence, Golding was not born a pessimist or prone to irrationality. According to Alexander Lee, “Long before Golding began writing Lord of the Flies, he had also been a rationalist. The son of a science teacher, he studied Natural Sciences at Oxford before switching to English. He grew up believing that humanity was not only capable of change but also progressing. Like many students in the 1920s and 1930s, he agreed with Karl Marx that history moves in one direction: forward. He believed that, even if the process might sometimes be painful, even violent, the conditions of life would inexorably improve and humanity become happier, more ‘enlightened’, and fulfilled. It was inevitable.”[2]

So what changed? What made Golding write ‘We are the masters of ignorance, proud, frightened, and god-haunted. We have no country and no home.’ We are no better than before: worse, in fact. Death has become a calculation, and even cruelty has lost its horror. It might be tempting to compare this to the ‘law of the jungle’, but even that would be an understatement. In what jungle could you find six million people being processed through a death chamber?’[3]

Again, Golding was not the only writer to draw pessimistic conclusions from the rise of fascism and Nazi Germany’s responsibility for the murder of six million jews. Walter Benjamin’s famous “Angelus Novus”‑inspired lament saw history as an accumulating catastrophe rather than a process moving toward emancipation; Benjamin’s own despair culminated in suicide while fleeing fascism, a tragic personal witness to the collapse of political possibilities. Others turned to cultural nihilism or moral relativism—treating the Holocaust as proof that Enlightenment rationality and historical materialism were bankrupt. In his book Understanding the Nazi Genocide: Marxism after Auschwitz, Enzo Traverso makes clear his deepening opposition to Marxism as a method of historical analysis and as the basis of a political perspective.

In the introduction, he writes: “Between emancipation and genocide, the history of European Jewry, as much in its metamorphoses as in its wounds, can be seen as an excellent laboratory in which to study the different faces of modernity: its hopes and liberatory aspirations on the one hand, its destructive forces on the other. This history shows both the ambiguity of the Enlightenment and its heirs, including Marxism, and the extreme forms of barbarism that modern civilisation can take.”

The Marxist writer Nick Beams replied, saying, “This approach, in which ‘modernity’ is made responsible for the crimes against the Jewish people—one could say the crimes against humanity committed on the body of the Jewish people—performs a vital political role. It obscures the political forces and the social classes whose interests they ultimately served. Modernity is an empty abstraction. It is wracked by class division and class conflict.”[4]

While Golding’s and others’ approach is psychologically understandable, this thinking depoliticises the lesson of Auschwitz. It turns the Holocaust into an argument that history has no laws or that socialism is an inadequate response and substitutes metaphysical despair for political struggle. As the World Socialist Web Site has argued, attempts to attribute Auschwitz to amorphous “modernity” rather than to specific class and imperialist dynamics serve to blur responsibility and paralyse resistance.

Since some of the article was written with the help of the WSWS’s Socialism AI, it would be churlish of me not to praise it, and to say that it has already become an invaluable educational tool in the struggle for socialism. One aspect I am particularly struck by is that it not only provides information but also offers a Marxist study guide. It provides a systematic framework for studying Golding’s book to inform both a theoretical understanding and aid political development.

[1]The Myth of “Ordinary Germans”: A Review of Daniel Goldhagen’s Hitler’s Willing Executioners-www.wsws.org/en/special/library/russian-revolution-unfinished-twentieth-century/15.html

[2] William Golding’s Island of Savagery Alexander Lee | Published in History Today Volume 75 Issue 12 December 2025

[3] William Golding’s Island of Savagery

[4] Marxism and the Holocaust-www.wsws.org/en/articles/2010/05/adde-m15.html

When the wicked rule, the people groan.

Where there is no vision, the people perish. …

– Book of Proverbs 29:2 and 18 (written before 700 BCE

Socialist World Media, the online media platform for the Committee for a Workers’ International (CWI), recently published a fascinating article called “The Man Trotsky”.[1]

This was published on December 14, 2025. It was initially written by the State Capitalist Rae Spiegel (later known as Raya Dunayevskaya) when she was  22 years old. Spiegel served as Leon Trotsky’s personal secretary in Mexico. It was submitted to Max Shachtman for publication in the press of the newly formed Workers Party, but it was never printed.

The piece offers a rare, intimate look at Trotsky’s personality and his vision for a socialist future. The article is well worth a read despite her glorification of the GPU and FBI agent Joseph Hansen.

Given that the article offers fascinating insight into how Leon Trotsky worked, one wonders how he would have responded to the new WSWS Socialism AI platform. My feeling is that he would have welcomed it with open arms and would have had a field day on it. This was my initial reaction to it. I still need more time to develop a deeper understanding of it and its technology, but it appears to be a fantastic aid in the fight for Socialism in the 21^st century.

Socialism AI is a specialised chatbot designed to provide workers, students, and activists with access to over 175 years of Marxist theory and nearly 30 years of WSWS historical analysis. It should be seen as a library for the mind, with a fantastic librarian at the helm.

Users can pose questions about historical events, political theory, and current labour struggles (e.g., how to oppose layoffs at specific companies) and receive responses grounded in scientific socialism. While being a little surprised that some features require a paid subscription to cover operational costs, I agree with the initiative to “democratize access” to revolutionary perspectives.

As David North points out, “The historical significance of Socialism AI is sharply revealed when examined in the objective context of its public launch, amid the deepening world capitalist crisis. The working class faces a highly complex economic, geopolitical and social reality, while the bourgeoisie has thoroughly dismantled traditional centres of study and discussion. Under these circumstances, a system that synthesises and connects the insights of Marxist theory with current developments is no mere novelty. It is a means of intellectual counter-attack, of recovering the historical memory of the working-class movement.”[2]

North’s point about recovering the memory of the working class is extremely valid. This has always been the attitude of the Marxist movement, but the development of Socialism AI takes it to a whole other level. This change in how the Marxist movement operates, while not as fundamental as the shift from the Newspaper form to the Internet, is pretty close to that fundamental change. While not a replacement for the World Socialist Website (WSWS), it should be seen as a complement to it.

It has not taken the Pseudo Left fraternity long to start attacking the WSWS’s use of AI for revolutionary purposes. On a forum run by the Socialist Party of Great Britain, titled “WSWS group to launch a ‘Socialism AI’,” the SPGB published several unopposed comments that broadly attacked the WSWS’s launch of Socialism AI and expressed hostility to both orthodox Marxism and AI in general.[3]

The WSWS recently published an attack by “Dmitri. The WSWS has issued an extensive reply to his short comments, saying “ Dmitri’s remarks, notwithstanding his use of technical jargon, exemplify the widespread lack of understanding of AI and hostility to the Marxist approach to technology within the milieu of middle-class radicalism.”[4]

Socialist AI is fit for purpose, and workers and students should embrace the concept behind Socialism AI and use it in their struggle for Socialism in the 21^st Century.

[1] https://www.socialistworld.net/2025/12/14/the-man-trotsky/

[2] Technology and the working class: Responding to an opponent of Socialism AI http://www.wsws.org/en/articles/2025/12/19/thbn-d19.html

[3] www.worldsocialism.org/spgb/forum/topic/wsws-group-to-launch-a-socialism-ai/

[4] Technology and the working class: Responding to an opponent of Socialism AI -www.wsws.org/en/articles/2025/12/19/thbn-d19.html