The Last Of
The Utopian Projects
By Eric Hobsbawm
09 March, 2005
The
Guardian
I
have a lasting admiration for Mikhail Gorbachev. It is an admiration
shared by all who know that, but for his initiatives, the world might
still be living under the shadow of the catastrophe of a nuclear war
- and that the transition from the communist to the post-communist era
in eastern Europe, and in most non-Caucasian parts of the former USSR,
has proceeded without significant bloodshed. His place in history is
secure.
But did perestroika
bring about a second Russian revolution? No. It brought the collapse
of the system built on the 1917 revolution, followed by a period of
social, economic and cultural ruin, from which the peoples of Russia
have by no means yet fully emerged. Recovery from this catastrophe is
already taking much longer than it took Russia to recover from the world
wars.
Whatever will emerge
from this era of post-Soviet catastrophe was not envisaged, let alone
prepared, by perestroika, not even after the supporters of perestroika
had realised that their project of a reformed communism, or even a social-democratised
USSR, was unrealisable. It was not even envisaged by those who came
to believe that the aim should be a fully capitalist system of the liberal
western - more precisely, the American - model.
The end of perestroika
precipitated Russia into a space void of any real policy, except the
unrestricted free market recommendations of western economists who were
even more ignorant of how the Soviet economy functioned than their Russian
followers were of how western capitalism operated. On neither side was
there serious consideration of the necessarily lengthy and complex problems
of transition. Nor, when the collapse came, given its speed, could there
have been.
I do not want to
blame perestroika for this. Almost certainly the Soviet economy was
unreformable by the 1980s. If there were real chances of reforming it
in the 1960s they were sabotaged by the self-interests of a nomenklatura
that was by this time firmly entrenched and uncontrollable. Possibly
the last real chance of reform was in the years after Stalin's death.
On the other hand,
the sudden collapse of the USSR was neither probable nor expected before
the late 1980s. A prominent CIA figure interviewed by Professor Fred
Halliday of the LSE thought that, supposing Andropov had survived in
good health, there would still have been a USSR in the 1990s - clumsy,
inefficient, in slow and perhaps accelerating economic decline, but
still in being. The international situation would have been, and remained,
very different. International disorder followed the collapse of the
single Russian state that had been a great world power since the 18th
century - as it had the collapse of the Austro-Hungarian and Ottoman
empires after the first world war. For a few years even the existence
of Russia itself as an effective state was in question. It is so no
longer, but the necessary restoration of state power in Russia in recent
years has been at heavy risk to the political and juridical liberalisation
which was the major - I am tempted to say the only real - achievement
of perestroika.
Did perestroika
herald "the end of history"? The collapse of the experiment
initiated by the October Revolution is certainly the end of a history.
That experiment will not be repeated, although the hope it represented,
at least initially, will remain a permanent part of human aspirations.
And the enormous social injustice which gave communism its historic
force in the last century is not diminishing in this one. But was it
"the end of history" as Francis Fukuyama proclaimed in 1989,
in a phrase that he no doubt regrets?
He was doubly wrong.
In the literal sense of history as something that makes headlines in
newspapers and TV news bulletins, history has continued since 1989,
if anything in a more dramatic mode than before. The cold war has been
followed neither by a new world order, nor by a period of peace, nor
by the prospect of a predictable global progress in civilisation such
as intelligent western observers had in the mid-19th century, the last
period when liberal capitalism - under British auspices in those days
- had no doubts about the future of the world.
What we have today
is a superpower unrealistically aspiring to a permanent world supremacy
for which there is no historical precedent, nor probability, given the
limitation of its own resources - especially as today all state power
is weakened by the impact of non-state economic agents in a global economy
beyond the control of any state, and given the visible tendency of the
global centre of gravity to shift from the North Atlantic to the zone
of south and east Asia.
Even more questionable
is the wider - almost quasi-Hegelian - sense of Fukuyama's phrase. It
implies that history has an end, namely a world capitalist economy developing
without limits, married to societies ruled by liberal-democratic institutions.
There is no historic justification for teleology, whether non-Marxist
or Marxist, and certainly none for believing in unilinear and uniform
worldwide development.
Both evolutionary
science and the experiences of the 20th century have taught us that
evolution has no direction that allows us concrete predictions about
its future social, cultural and political consequences.
The belief that
the US or the European Union, in their various forms, have achieved
a mode of government which, however desirable, is destined to conquer
the world, and is not subject to historic transformation and impermanence,
is the last of the utopian projects so characteristic of the last century.
What the 21st needs is both social hope and historical realism.
· Eric
Hobsbawm is author of The Age of Extremes: The Short 20th Century
1914-1991; this is an edited version of an address to the world political
forum on perestroika 20 years on, held last weekend in Turin by the
Gorbachev Foundation