A fascinating dive into the 60s and 70s radical cauldron that birthed the briefly ardent New Communist Movement in America. Spanning a history that begins to unfold properly in 1968 and continuing until just after the fall of the Soviet Union, Elbaum covers a lot of ground. But does it work well in laying out not just the theory, but the practice, of why the New Communist Movement sputtered out so abruptly and what lessons to be learned from it?
Let a Hundred Flowers Bloom!
The main axis that the book turns upon is the building of the Marxist-Leninist-MZT parties that proliferated in the late 60s into the 1970s, and what that meant for the development of left-wing politics as a whole. That tens of thousands of young cadres, dissatisfied with both traditional American politics as well as the politics of the Soviet Union, is given great depth, as well as their seeking of answers primarily in Lenin and Mao (and to a lesser, more metaphorical sense, Che). It is not only inspiring, but deeply moving to read the myriad of reasons why these activists felt that the answer to The System was its complete overthrow, and how they earnestly launched themselves not only into popular front efforts, but party-building efforts. Activists bound together not just by their youth, with some as young as teenagers, but their determined attitude that anything was possible, seemed primed to set the world ablaze. For a brief moment, they did.
Burnout
Of course, the perils of sectarianism and purity-testing rears its ugly head before too long. Elbaum deftly weaves a storied history of the formations, splits, mergers, further splits, and infighting that these groups suffered from during the brief, ephemeral history. Groups which formed from a similar political and locational milieu dividing so sharply over (to modern understandings) minor differences can be quite a frustrating read. At several points, as the long, slow march to dissolution and coda starts to come into view, it can be a hard and frustrating read. You want to literally shake the people who are spending their time debating maximalist positions of theory and getting into physical fights with each other out of their slump, but the writing was on the wall long before you were born.
And Mao Makes... None?
For a deep dive into the history of the New Communist Movement, that small niche which existed against the backdrop of the mainstream politics that have attempted to cover them up, Revolution in the Air succeeds. For a segment of history I have little-to-no familiarity with, Elbaum in my view gives fair play to all parties involved, refraining from diving into the personal lives of activists or members of the Movement or personal grievance-hanging. And it is hard not to sympathize with his viewpoint that the attempted vanguard parties (for that is what they were) failed to succeed in spite of themselves more-so than the political culture at large. Until the mid-70s, they still had the potential of maturation into what they envisaged for themselves and their fellow cadres.
Elbaum's two ending chapters in the post-Soviet wake is an obituary for a movement that failed to find that maturation. In it, his dissection takes many dimensions, chief among them his view that the people involved in these organizations failed largely as they drifted away from the concerns of the workers and of anti-racist activists, and became obsessed with discovering "the correct line" to hew towards. And, most pertinently, Elbaum's denunciation of Maoism as having done "the most damage" to the New Communist Movement at a pivotal point in time is perhaps his most striking one. The prescription? A new form of politics for the left that eschews the rigidity and quest for orthodoxy that so-defined the New Communist Movement, defined itself by the Maoist track that it had placed itself upon.
To most ardent Marxist-Leninists (additional -isms are, of course, optional), this may be anathema. Check your Mao at the door? Impossible. You might as well repudiate Lenin as well at that point, and throw out your Engels while you're at it. And I must stress that, having lived through the sectarian struggles of left politics at a time when they were at their height in the US, Elbaum certainly has the chops to critique what he saw/sees as a dead-end, and isn't lecturing without that notch on his belt.
Ultimately, I am struck by the dichotomy between the writing of this book from 2002, and Vincent Bevins' , which I read earlier this year. Between the prescriptions that the two books offer, I would hew more towards that of Bevins' analysis of the "missed revolution" of the 2010s and of 2020, but I don't want to be unfair to Elbaum. I would like to see an update to this work, perhaps a sequel, of his analysis of the 2010s. Would he still hold the same antipathy towards the rigidness of centralized politics after the failure of these pivotal, global moments? It's hard to say.
Parting Comments
In spite of my disagreements, the book holds up well, and gripped me thoroughly. It can be hard to trace the lineage or the ways in which these organizations blossomed out and then disappeared, as well as dragging a little bit in the middle, but I would ultimately recommend reading it, if only to examine a fascinating window into a political countercurrent that so briefly existed.