‘You know, with Kautsky, the more I learn about that guy, the more I don’t care for him’ - Norm MacDonald

I’m going to attempt the possible and defend Trotsky in the face of a seemingly insuperable wave of MLM sycophants; an admittedly difficult task to be sure.

Fine, Mao supersedes Trotsky in his understanding of the peasantry, Trotsky is a tad too abstract and not as concrete as the venerable Chairman, he overestimated the upper crust of the working class yadda yadda. But here we have a cutthroat and effective evaluation of lived Soviet reality. Surely someone can’t read this and come away detesting the man? The militarisation of labour goes a hell of a long way in deflating the aspirations of some of the most enervating so-called ‘Marxists’ of my generation who see themselves becoming poets as soon as the class struggle has progressed somewhat, even the notion of egalitarianism (contra the utopian notion of egalitarianism, where the necessity of momentarily maintaining wages, rewarding impressive labour etc. is construed as some immoral sin) is dispelled, a notion all too often misunderstood. As well as this, Trotsky demonstrates the necessity of the State in a way I have found unmatched by other Marxist writers within the tradition — I know it’s a cliche at this point but I do really think that anarchists dwell in some idealistic stupor.

That being said.... do any of these writings carry any weight anymore? Must we solely speak in the language handed down to us by neoliberalism? As I grow older I feel like this is most likely the case. However, this work does stand as a Romantic, passionate haranguing by a man gripped by the most intense and critical conditions imaginable, and he was truly fighting for something novel and in my eyes very important. Perhaps all of these writings surrounding the Internationals are beyond antiquarian at this point of time, but maybe there is something to be salvaged within these silverfish-addled tomes that could cut through the current miasma of our lost futures. Something concerning a steel will, an organised strength, something that may not be a cure-all but will alleviate some ails, some pretty bloody big ones at that.

Even if all of this discourse amounts to nil at least when you’ve read this you’ll no longer need to stare at a closeted liberal with a glazed over expression while swallowing their tepid notions of revolution. Trotsky’s notion of Revolution and violence may belong to a bygone era, but let us not allow these snivelling knaves to diminish and denigrate what once was. Oh and just to mention, no other Marxist has been this unabashedly sincere and open on the sheer horror and terror that civil war, class struggle and the road to socialism involve: Trotsky gives it to you like a pear cider made out of 100% pears. ( )