Category Archives: Revolution

Workers’, Soldiers’, and Peasants’ Councils

The Petrograd Soviet
The Petrograd Soviet, 1917

Workers’, Soldiers’, and Peasants’ Councils, also known as soviets in Russian, were the democratic ideal of 20th century socialism. During this century, when the traditional social order breaks down, people organize popular assemblies in the place where they spend their time. In the 20th century, at least, that place would be their place of work, where most people were consigned for over 8 hours a day. Thus, when social institutions crumbled, workers turned to their co-workers in the factory. From their assemblies, deputies were elected to a council, to provide direction and order amid social chaos.

Origin and History

The first workers’ councils appeared during the first Russian Revolution, in 1905. They evolved from traditions of Russian labor disputes, wherein capitalists preferred “councils of factory elders” to dealing with trade unions and strike committees. During the 1905 revolution, workers’ councils in urban areas and peasants’ councils in the countryside first appeared as means of self-government alternative to traditional local government, and for advancing the interests of the represented class. Among all the many Russian social revolutionaries, only Lenin predicted at the time that the soviets would become the principal form of socialist democracy.

When the Russian Revolution destroyed the tsarist autocracy in 1917, workers’ councils were again the dominant mode of popular governance. The Petrograd (formerly St. Petersburg) Soviet was the effective authority of the Revolution. While a traditional (bourgeois) “Provisional Government” existed, the Soviet was the assembly that workers looked to. When military units began sending delegates to the Soviet (making it a Soviet of Workers’ and Soldiers’ Deputies), the Revolution was entirely in the hands of the Soviet. The Provisional Government could do nothing without the authority of the Petrograd Soviet.

Across Russia, soviets of a single class (either workers or soldiers or peasants) or mixed soviets (workers’ and soldiers’ councils, or workers’ and peasants’ councils, etc.) effectively governed their own patch of land. The Bolsheviks were the only party that advocated peace and Russia’s withdrawal from the First World War. Thus, they dominated the weary Russian soldiers and sailors, who in turn recognized only their own soviets, not their officers, as an authority. Meanwhile, the Social Revolutionary Party was by far the most popular of the revolutionary political parties. It was the support of the soldiers’ soviets, and not their democratic victory, that propelled Lenin and the Bolsheviks to power. The Bolsheviks dissolved the constituent assembly, and instead turned to the All-Russian Congress of Soviets to write the new socialist constitution. This constitution made Russia a “soviet republic”, and its later inclusion of other, conquered soviet republic created a “Union of Socialist Soviet Republics”.

The soviet phenomenon spread across Europe, as far west as a creamery in Ireland. Germany was another hotbed of workers’ self-organization. The German Revolution began when the sailors at Kiel refused to reenter the slaughterhouse of the First World War. The soldiers and sailors at Kiel established a workers’ and soldiers’ council and took the city under their control. In time, soldiers’ and workers’ councils would take many cities. In Munich, the workers’ and soldiers’ council abolished the Bavarian monarchy and created a Bavarian Soviet Republic. German “free militias” – the seeds of German fascism – responded and successfully crushed the German soviets. The Social Democratic Party, Germany’s principal socialist party, stepped aside and allowed the private militias destroy the workers’ councils. The German soviets threatened their own domination of the new German Republic, now remembered as the ineffectual Weimar Republic. A neutered form of workers’ councils remains, though. The Weimar Republic established the German tradition of co-determination in their corporations, in which employees elect “works councils” to represent them to the corporation, and to share power on the corporate board.

Workers’, soldiers’, and peasants’ councils appeared in other times and places throughout the 20th century. Wherever there was industry and social dissolution, workers’ councils appeared. Sometimes this was the result of socialist ideology, but mostly it was the organic result of people organizing where they spent their time. Workers’ councils appeared during the various revolutions of the 20th century, including in China, Spain, France, Chile, Portugal, Iran, and even Hungary in 1956, when soviets were formed in rebellion against the Soviet Union.


Workers’, soldiers’, or peasants’ councils are formed when the social order breaks down and a new order is needed. The dissolution of authority means that capitalists no longer have the means to command their workers, because the police or private security are unwilling to help compel employees to obey. Soldiers refuse to obey their officers, and so obedient soldiers no longer quash the rebellious soldiers. Instead, responding to the ancient democratic that lies dormant in the minds of human beings, they gather into assemblies. Those assemblies unite across a common area by a council of elected deputies. Because the workers and soldiers formed these councils spontaneously, there was rarely any consistent standard of constituency. Some deputies were elected by a single factory, some by a number of small factories. Soldiers often elected deputies by unit. This could result in enormous councils. The Petrograd Soviet was composed of 3000 deputies in its final form. And because of the inconsistent representation between workers and soldiers, two-thirds of the council were soldiers’ deputies. As much as its perceived legitimacy, its control by the disaffected military was a source of its power over the city in revolution.

The soviets gradually developed a standard form for dealing with the issues that came before it. All business went before a smaller Executive Committee, elected by the soviet. The Executive Committee in turn submitted its decisions back to the whole soviet for acceptance or denial. Executive Committees would subdivide into subcommittees to handle more specific matters.

At first, the soviets governed their own little piece of Russia, but soon they convoked an “All-Russian Congress of Soviets” to reunite revolutionary Russia. The Congress of Soviets was a body of deputies elected by local soviets or provincial congresses of soviets. Russian workers, soldiers, and peasants were thus represented “indirectly” in the Congress, because they did not vote for their deputies to the Congress. Rather, they elected their soviet, and the soviet elected deputies to other congresses. Again, the Congresses of Soviets tended to be huge, with the important Third Congress having 2400 deputies. The Congress turned deliberation of legislation over to a Central Executive Committee (CEC) of 500 of its members. Originally, the CEC would draft legislation and deliver it to the Congress’ three annual sessions for their approval. Eventually, though, the Bolshevik dictatorship dispensed with the democratic fiction and the CEC passed legislation on its own. The CEC turned administration over to a Council of People’s Commissars (ministers of state), periodically elected.

Stalin eventually effaced most of these unique features of the soviet system in his 1936 constitution. A directly elected “Supreme Soviet” replaced the indirectly elected Congress of Soviets, and traditional ministers of state replaced the people’s commissars. Stalin intended that the Soviet Union resemble European parliaments as much as possible, while at the same time resurrecting czarist and nationalist Russian traditions.


Workers’ councils have been the democratic hope of heterodox socialists and communists throughout the 20th century. Mainstream Communists towed the line dictated from Moscow or Beijing, in which workers’ democracy was whatever Dear Leader said it was. But sidelined socialists, communists, and anarchists delved into the workers’ councils concept, and what this spontaneous creation of the working class meant.

The first notable element of workers’ councils is their class basis. Because deputies are elected from the places of work in capitalist societies, the councils exclude the capitalist class (who typically is not at the scene of work). Territorial constituencies would include any person in that territory, but factory-, farm-, and barracks-based constituencies only capture the classes that inhabit those spaces. Thus, Lenin thought that soviets alone would be the organ of proletarian (and peasant) revolution. This is also their weakness as a governing organ, however. Unless the industry was considered “women’s work” (as textiles were and are), the workers’ councils would be dominated by men. Many Russian working women were housewives, or worked in trades that were not socialized, such as domestic labor. Thus, women would be excluded from the soviets. The same would be true for the unemployed. Only the working class may have composed the workers’ councils, but not all the working class.

The socialist tradition envisions precisely the indirect representation that the soviets adopted in the form of Congress of Soviets. Instead of what we are used to today, in which we vote directly for representatives to our national assembly, Russians would elect their soviets, and those soviets would send delegates to a district or provincial congress of soviets, and those congresses would send delegates to an “All-Russian” Congress of Soviets. After more soviet republics were added (conquered), their congresses of soviets would send delegates to the All-Union Congress of Soviets. The benefit of this structure was that each constituency is organized. Each soviet is capable of debating and deciding national policy and directly instructing their deputy with their decision, and likewise in each congress of soviets up the ladder. The diffuse electorates that elect representatives do not have that ability to confer with one another. However, in contemporary research, indirectly elected representatives are found not to be as representative as directly elected representatives. In most nations, the trend has always been away from indirect election. In the United States, the 17th Amendment transferred the election of Senators from state legislatures to the people of the state. For several decades at least, this prevented the corruption of the state legislatures from infecting the federal government. Likewise, the indirect election of the president has created a host of electoral problems – namely, that the president does not have the support of the majority.

However, in the revolutionary socialist vision, the government is not meant to satisfy the same purpose as is conceived in liberal capitalism. In liberal capitalism, the government wields the coercive power of the sovereign state as a means of maintaining the rights of the individual. In a socialist democracy, the purpose of the government is to progressively take the means of production into the democratic control of the working class. Coercion “withers away”, because the purpose is to organize all economic activity as a public service, and not to enforce law against individual persons. This is the classical socialist aim of replacing the bureaucratic “government of man” with the democratic “administration of things”.

Thus, perhaps soviets would be an effective means of such administration. Housewives and the unemployed do not need to be represented on a workers’ council, because they do not operate the means of production (the offices, factories, and farms). The social organs do not exist to coerce people in their non-economic lives, so they do not need to be represented. Citizens of liberal societies demand equal and accurate representation because they expect to be equally bound by the law. However, the “comrades” of a socialist state collectively comprise an administration for organizing the economy, and so strict, numerical, and direct representation is not as important. In this case, perhaps soviets and their congresses are not suitable representative organs by liberal standards, but might be by socialist standards.


History has not provided us with an experiment in a society organized (in part or in whole) into workers’ councils. Most revolutions that feature workers’ councils are crushed either form without or within. The Russian, Chinese, and Iranian Revolutions were stifled by their revolutionary “vanguard”. The Bolsheviks swept to power in Russia through their power in the army. Even though they were the only party to advocate for soviet power, they progressively stripped new soviet institutions of their effective power. The Soviet Union that was meant to be a union of workers’ councils became a vassal to the Communist Party dictatorship. The same happened in China; when democratic institutions threatened Mao’s power, he turned on them. In Iran, the clerical government snuffed out the shoras. Most councils are shut down by outside forces. The Soviet Union crushed the Hungarian council movement in 1957; the United States destroyed the workers’ councils of Chile’s poder popular in 1973.

We might not see the return of workers’ councils either. In 21st century social collapse and revolution, popular assemblies have appeared more prominently in neighborhoods than in workplaces. In Argentina, while many workers recuperated their factories and workshops, the neighborhood assemblies were the locus of social organization. In socialist Venezuela, the government organizes communal councils in neighborhoods, but few workers’ councils, despite the demands of the working class. In Syrian Kurdistan, neighborhood communes serve as the basis for its revolutionary democracy.

This might be a trend throughout the century. The working hours of developed industrial nations have shrunk to an 8-hour day, which means that most workers do not spend all of their waking hours at the workplace. Industry contracts as capitalists move capital resources to the nation with the lowest labor costs. A new pattern in employment is emerging, in which low wages force people to take on multiple part-time jobs instead of a single full-time job. Employees can be fired at will, without recourse to effective regulatory intervention or labor unions. And now, industry is becoming completely automated, which means few workers will be required at all.

These are only possibilities, and social trends are hard to parse. An alternative proletariat emerges. While old industries fall away, previously professional occupations become “proletarianized” – turned into rote, unskilled tasks. For example, educational corporations and universities continue to force teachers into the proletarian mold, disastrously ripping away the professional autonomy and ineffectively trying to deskill education.

However, if these trends away from a traditional industrial society are not just historical outliers and do persist, we will not see workers’ councils in the future, at least of the 20th century kind. The center of popular power will return to the neighborhood as the source of popular power.

Homage to Rojava

Amidst the horrors of the civil war in Syria, the Kurds of the Syrian northeast feel the irresistible pull of democratic liberty. The Kurdish Democratic Union Party (PYD in the Kurdish) declared neutrality in the carnage of the battle between Assad loyalists, ISIS, and other factions. Meanwhile, the party has established an oasis of democratic society in the Middle East, where the people govern themselves directly, ethnic peace reigns, and women are empowered.

The Kurdish rebels claim inspiration from Murray Bookchin, the American anarchist who founded the concepts of social ecology and libertarian municipalism. Social ecology is a theory of social institutions that focuses on how relations of hierarchy and dominance cause environmental problems. Libertarian municipalism, a localist form of participatory democracy is the solution. Bookchin came to Kurdistan through the radical leader of the Kurdish Workers’ Party (PKK), Abdullah Ocalan. Ocalan developed his theory of “democratic confederalism” on top of Bookchin while awaiting death in solitary confinement in a Turkish prison. The PKK adapted the ideas into their own practices, and its ideals permeated Kurdish society to some extent. Thus, the Kurdish Movement for a Democratic Society created democratic communities in Syrian Kurdistan (or Rojava) when the civil war broke out. Now, the People’s Protection Units (YPG) have heroically repelled the ultraviolent forces of ISIS from their cities. The image of the militiawomen of egalitarian Rojava have become famous, despite the best efforts of the international media to ignore the area.

The Social Contract

Instead of a constitution, the Rojava revolutionaries have created a “Social Contract” between its Autonomous Regions (or cantons) of Afrin, Kobani, and Jazira. In appearance, the Social Contract establishes an unusually advanced parliamentary republic, with a Legislative Assembly of representatives elected for as many as two four-year terms, an Executive Council formed by the majority party, and a Constitutional Court with the power of judicial review.

What is interesting about the Social Contract is that it commits the Regions to achieving gender and ethnic equality. The cities are not only Kurds, but also include, according to the Preamble, “… Arabs, Assyrians, Chaldeans, Arameans, Turkmen, Armenians, and Chechens”. Article 14 of the Contract commits the Regions to “redress chauvinistic and discriminatory State policies, including the payment of reparations”.

Article 27 and 28 guarantee the equality of women in all walks of life. The Social Contract demands that women compose at least 40% of political bodies like the Legislative Assembly and the Executive Council. At the community level, gender equality is more radical; each commune has two co-presidents, one man and one woman.

Participatory Democracy in Rojava

Rojava wouldn’t be interesting if it were merely an advanced liberal polity. Despite the opinions of the Western ruling classes, Middle Easterners are perfectly capable of constructing democratic states. Tunisia’s constitution, for example, has similar provisions about the participation of women in government. While the PYD dominates the more traditional bodies, the Movement for a Democratic Society has led the development of democratic life among the people, and a real democracy parallel to the official one.

As with all past radical, revolutionary democracies, popular power is built upon assemblies that are organic to society. In Rojava, communes of 300 residents organize into popular assemblies. Elected committees and the co-presidents (as mentioned, one man and one woman) run the commune. The communal committees have been responsible for maintaining the social and economic life of their people amidst the horrors of the civil war and the ravages of ISIS.

The communal committees have also organized the cooperatives that supply their neighborhoods with food, water, fuel, and electricity. With ISIS, Assad, and the Free Syrian Army to their south, and a hostile Turkey to their north, the Rojava cantons have no choice but to rapidly develop their own local industry just to survive. Notably, each commune includes an ecology committee, as the revolutionaries are as sensitive to environmental problems as they are to gender and ethnic equality.

One important committee in every commune is the peace and consensus committee, which acts a community court. Except for the worst crimes (i.e. murder), the peace and consensus committees resolve disputes and violations in their communes through restorative justice practices. This involves the committee mediating an agreement between the offender and the victim to produce a plan for restitution to the victim and the restoration of the offender to the community. Crimes against women are referred to the women’s committee of the commune. Failure to find agreement at the communal level pushes the decision to more traditional, city-level courts. Obviously, Rojava has abolished the death penalty, as almost the entire world has.

Along with the transformation of criminal law is the transformation of the police, or “Asayish”. According to an observer of the revolution, the anthropologist David Graeber, the “ultimate aim was to give everyone in the country six weeks of police training, so that ultimately, they could eliminate police”.

Also as with previous revolutionary democracies, the communes combine to form larger political bodies. The communal co-presidents of multiple communes form the people’s council for the district, each of which elects their own two co-presidents. These district co-presidents then attend the city council, which is supplemented by councilors elected directly by the public, until the city council has 200 members. The co-presidents of each city council then attend the cantonal people’s council. Each city then receives an additional number of seats in the cantonal council so that every city is represented according to their population.

At each level of government, a women’s council exists to make decisions that especially affect women. The women’s councils can veto any decision of the people’s council on a women’s issue.

Finally, the Rojava militia, the People’s Protection Units (sometimes People’s Defense Units), is democratically organized. Like revolutionary militias throughout history, including the American revolutionary militias and the Red Army of the Russian Revolution, the militia units elect their officers. Every ethnicity in Rojava is represented, in the militia units, except for the Assyrians, who have their own battalion. The women have their own militia, the Women’s Protection Units. And like historical revolutionary armies, the democratic militias have been enormously successful. The YPG repelled ISIS from the Rojava city of Kobani, despite being starved from the north by a Turkish embargo. The YPG alone rushed to the defense of the Yezidi when ISIS forces threatened that religious minority with slavery and destruction.

It’s not all sweetness and light in Syrian Kurdistan though. Islamic traditionalists in Rojava do not appreciate the explicit feminism of the communal organizations. Because of decades of enforced monocropping by the Syrian dictatorship, the cantons lack the agricultural diversity and soil integrity for feeding themselves. Even though they aim for economic self-sufficiency, the cantons have to look abroad for investment, lacking the resources for domestic investment. The large eastern canton, Cizire, cannot even sell its massive oil reserves because of the Turkish embargo. And now that the YPG has liberated Kobani, the Peshmerga, the regional forces of Iraqi Kurdistan, have moved in as reinforcements. However, Iraqi Kurdistan, as the closest thing the Kurds have to their own state, seems eager to subordinate their Rojava compatriots.

Despite these problems, the revolution in Rojava will remain one of the historic moments in democracy, joining with the revolutionary commonwealths of the American Revolution, the French Revolution and the later Paris Commune, and the Russian and German Revolutions. Most poignantly, Rojava is reminiscent of revolutionary Catalonia during the Spanish Civil War of the 1930’s. The Catalan anarchists, like the Kurdish feminists, established a genuine democracy that shows what a mockery our pretend-republics are. And like the Catalans, the Syrian Kurds are beset by hostile powers and allies alike. One must hope that the Rojava cantons survive their tribulation in life; but even if they do not, they will live on in memory.

A Musical Interlude, for Revolutionaries

Pennsylvania 1776: What Democracy Could Have Looked Like

It’s no secret that the United States was not founded to be a democracy. Not only was the vote originally restricted to propertied white men, the Founders created a Senate to house the aristocracy, a President to serve as monarch, and the Supreme Court to find the laws to maintain the system. Over 200 years later, we’ve made some progress on expanding the vote – a little. Regardless, the United States has become a model for democratic government. Political science has spilled oceans of ink to fit the United States into the democratic mold. Had the American Revolution gone a different way, political scientists would have an easier time of it. In 1776, the year of the Declaration of Independence, constitutional conventions in every American colony set out to devise more deeply democratic constitutions than the United States would ever see again. The constitution of Pennsylvania was the most radical of them all. Its drafters included a mathematician named James Cannon, the scientist, Thomas Young, and the man himself, Thomas Paine. The original Pennsylvanian constitution contained a number of democratic innovations.

First, the Pennsylvanian legislature would be a single house of representatives whose members were elected every year. While it seems obvious to us that assemblies should have two legislative chambers, this was a significant debate among American revolutionaries. The democrats had no desire for a second house or senate to quash the people’s will. The Pennsylvanian drafters had an even more democratic ambition. Instead of a second house to review bills, the people themselves would review and judge legislation. This was the drafters’ solution:

SECT. 15. To the end that laws before they are enacted may be more maturely considered, and the inconvenience of hasty determinations as much as possible prevented, all bills of public nature shall be printed for the consideration of the people, before they are read in general assembly the last time for debate and amendment; and, except on occasions of sudden necessity, shall not be passed into laws until the next session of assembly; and for the more perfect satisfaction of the public, the reasons and motives for making such laws shall be fully and clearly expressed in the preambles.

Since the legislature was elected every year, it was possible for any bill proposed one year to be held over for its final vote to the next year. In the meantime, the bill would be posted in public places for the consideration of the people. Candidates would have to speak to the bills that people cared about, and voters could choose representatives on the basis of very specific information about the sorts of laws that those representatives would have the power to pass.

Second, Pennsylvanians would elect, every seven years, a “Council of Censors”. The drafters’ reference here is to the censors of the ancient Roman republic, not to the silencing of expression. The censors of ancient Rome were elected every five years to review the actions of public officials and ensure they conformed to the law. The Council of Censors had a similar purpose:

SECT. 47. In order that the freedom of the commonwealth may be preserved inviolate forever… the COUNCIL OF CENSORS… whose duty it shall be to enquire whether the constitution has been preserved inviolate in every part; and whether the legislative and executive branches of government have performed their duty as guardians of the people, or assumed to themselves, or exercised other or greater powers than they are intitled to by the constitution: They are also to enquire whether the public taxes have been justly laid and collected in all parts of this commonwealth, in what manner the public monies have been disposed of, and whether the laws have been duly executed. For these purposes they shall have power to send for persons, papers, and records; they shall have authority to pass public censures, to order impeachments, and to recommend to the legislature the repealing such laws as appear to them to have been enacted contrary to the principles of the constitution. These powers they shall continue to have, for and during the space of one year from the day of their election and no longer…

The Council of Censors would sit for one year and review the actions of the Pennsylvanian government, to audit public finances, review the constitutionality of laws, recommend revisions to the law code, and order impeachments of public officials. A real spring cleaning for the government. Today, we have “public advocates”, public auditors, inspectors general, and other sorts of toothless ombudsmen. But the Council of Censors had democratic legitimacy as an elected assembly, and consequently, the authority to shake things up. This extended to the Pennsylvanian constitution itself:

The said council of censors shall also have power to call a convention, to meet within too years after their sitting, if there appear to them an absolute necessity of amending any article of the constitution….

If the constitution itself was going wrong, the Censors could call a constitutional convention to consider amendments, by two-thirds of the membership.

This is a much more democratic method of handling conflicts between the constitution and ordinary laws than the judicial review of an appointed supreme court.

Sadly, the Council of Censors amended itself out of existence. As Madison noted in the Federalist Papers, the same people who composed the executive and the legislature would go on to be elected to the Council of Censors. This had two consequences. First, old competitions would continue in the Council of Censors and its members would fail to be impartial. Second, the Council was reviewing the past work of its own members in previous offices, and so would judge themselves very lightly indeed. The solution would have been simple: bar former office-holders from being elected to the Council of Censors. Instead, the Council was simply abolished by a new, conservative constitution before its the second Council could ever be called.

The drafters of Vermont’s constitution copied much of the Pennsylvanian constitution. Vermont had 13 sessions of its Council of Censors, with the last Council sitting in 1869.

The conservative and anti-democratic constitutions that followed the American revolution, including the Constitution of the United States, gave us the gridlocked government that we recognize today. Executive councils were replaced by governors with veto power over laws. Popularly elected general assemblies were hemmed in by senates. Elected councils of censors were replaced with the judicial review of unelected courts. The revolution was over and the long reaction had begun. We still feel its effects.

We could benefit from a revival of the censorial assembly. Such an assembly could be elected every five years. Previous office-holders would be barred from standing for election. The assembly would hold hearings, impeach delinquent public officials, and draft corrective laws to be submitted to Congress or the public ballot. The assembly would have its own officers – inspectors and auditors – to gather information in between sessions. If such a body existed, the federal government might be in better order. War criminals and torturers might be tried, wars ended, and corruption investigated. The Pentagon might be able to pass an audit for the first time in decades. The national security state might be stopped in its tracks, and police militarization put to an end. At the very least, a censorial assembly would be a much-needed critical eye into the insular federal government.

Scotland’s Victory

On September 18th, Scotland voted to decide if it would remain a part of the United Kingdom or become an independent nation. A vote for independence would have dissolved a union created in 1603 by the accession of Scotland’s King James to the throne of England. An Act of Union in 1707 united their parliaments and administration. Scotland retained its distinct “Scots Law” in its courts, as well as its own system of education.

Calling Great Britain a union seems disingenuous. The Scots, like the Welsh and the Irish, have always been a minority in the UK. The Scottish population is 8% of the United Kingdom. Their representation in Parliament reflects this, with 59 of 650 seats. A simple federal union might have solved this a long time ago, but federalism was always a minority political view. Even now, the Conservative Party talks about “English votes for English laws” in the UK Parliament. Westminster is the property of England.

The Scots voted down independence, but not before we could all project our hopes for an independent Scotland.

Scottish Independence Had Potential Benefits

Scottish nationalism is not the reason Democracy in Principle was hoping for a victory for the independence campaign. Those of us at the Democracy in Principle offices don’t have much time for the social cancer of nationalism. Instead, we embraced Scottish independence for the benefits it would have not only for the Scots, but also for Europe as a whole.

The independence of Scotland would have disrupted the neoliberal institutions of the UK and Europe. If Scotland were independent, would the Queen remain its head of state? Raising the question in Scotland will raise the question in England.

Scotland would also have to face questions disruptive to the whole fabric of the European power structure. Adopting the euro or the pound would doom Scotland’s economy to the whims of some other central bank. Free Scotland might also have adopted its own currency. In this case, monetary independence could have been an inspiration to Europe’s impoverished periphery. Greece, Portugal, and Spain remain yoked to the euro and are unable to sustain their economy.

Furthermore, the Scottish Nationalist Party has an anti-nuclear policy. The Royal Navy would have to remove its nuclear submarines from their docks at Faslane. This policy would make membership in nuclear NATO difficult. Yet it is hard to see how NATO could refuse Scotland.

The Threat of Scottish Independence Will Have Actual Benefits

We do not make history as we please, but only under circumstances existing already. Thus, our aims are often frustrated, but yield fruit nonetheless. The Scottish referendum is already yielding fruit. The political parties of the UK are now bickering over how to fit more powers for Scotland into Britain’s constitution. The Conservative Party and UK Independence Party want only the UK’s English MPs to vote on laws for England. Scottish, Welsh, and Northern Irish MPs would not vote on English laws, since they have their own parliaments. The Conservative Party suggested this almost one hundred years ago in the Irish Home Rule debacle. Then as now, the idea is unworkable. The prime minister sometimes would have the support of the House of Commons, and then sometimes might not. Since the prime minister resigns when he or she loses the support of the House, this would make for a lot of elections.

In contrast, the Labor Party has demanded a long overdue constitutional convention. The British constitution, if written down, would look a little worn and ragged. The UK suffers under the obscene pageantry of the world’s most famous defunct monarchy. The House of Lords lingers on as the refuge of England’s feudal corpse. For some reason, the political parties have been trying to find something to do with the House of Lords, other than abolish it. At some point in the 20th century, secondary legislative houses became chic again.

A clip from Peter O’Toole’s documentary on the British aristocracy.

One of the UK’s most shocking anachronisms is the City of London. “The City” is a municipal corporation dating back to the Middle Ages. It exists for the sole purpose of the self-government of London’s financial class. In the City, corporations vote alongside residents, and larger corporations have more votes. This would be as if Wall Street financiers directly governed Manhattan (instead of indirectly). The greatest gift of the Scottish vote would be a constitutional convention for the United Kingdom. In a constitutional convention, the British people can strike back at their neoliberal state. Forget the Queen, save the people!

The Scottish vote has inspired the Catalans of Spain to hold their own referendum on November 9th. Spain is another nation due for a constitutional crisis.

The Scottish referendum failed to achieve the goal of independence for an ancient nation. Too often, failure to achieve our precise political goals disheartens soldiers of change. Yet the results of such failures are themselves useful to the future.

Thomas Paine on Peace

From The Rights of Man:

It is time that nations should be rational, and not be governed like animals, for the pleasure of their riders. To read the history of Kings, a man would be almost inclined to suppose that Government consisted in staghunting, and that every nation paid a million a year to a huntsman. Man ought to have pride or shame enough to blush at being thus imposed upon, and when he feels his proper character he will…. It is, however, curious to observe how soon this spell can be dissolved. A single expression, boldly conceived and uttered, will sometimes put a whole company into their proper feelings: and whole nations are acted upon in the same manner.

Today we might replace “king” with “president”, but the sentiment will remain the same. We wait only for that “single expression, boldly conceived and uttered”. Both the independence of Scotland and the People’s Climate March have the opportunity to be that expression.