Paul R. Josephson, Would Trotsky Wear a Bluetooth? Technological Utopianism under Socialism, 1917-1989, The Johns Hopkins University Press, Baltimore, 2010, 342 p.
Would
Trotsky wear a Bluetooth if he would have had the chance to live up the
moment it was invented? Unquestionably, he would, the author assures
us. After all, the father of the ‘permanent revolution’ theory has been a
great technophile and a science enthusiast who was convinced not only
that technology was the highest form of modern culture, the guarantee of
a radios future for the proletarian paradise, but also that “the
embrace of advanced technology was the path to Communism” (p. 13).
Unlike his Politburo rival Stalin, who would later promote severe
autarky while exaggerating the innovativeness of Soviet technology,
Trotsky was enamored from the very beginning of his career with Western,
particularly American technology which, he thought, although developed
in a capitalist system of production, would best suit a socialist
society (p. 55). Indeed, during the `20s he saw technology as a
universal panacea for the innumerable ailments of the recently-born
Soviet society – hunger, poverty, scarcity, illiteracy, poor medical
services, and so on –, a remedy capable of bringing the Soviet workers
and peasants into the modern era (p. 62).
But
Paul Josephson`s latest book is not, as one may think, concerned only
with the answer to the rhetorical question he provocatively addresses in
the title. The aim of his contribution is much more complex and wide.
By assembling seven distinctive stories regarding the technological
utopianism under real, existing socialism in societies as different as
the Soviet, North Korean or the East-European ones, the author explores
and evaluates the place and role of technological experience as both a
cultural symbol of progress and a means through which political,
economical and social change has been pursued by Communist political
leaders. For them, technological progress undoubtedly represented the
highest form of civilization (p. 19).
Simultaneously,
professor Josephson offers fresh interpretations to a number of diverse
aspects of this topic, such as the unique, grim phenomena developed
inside the prewar Soviet society, which enabled, within a generation, an
almost medieval economy inherited by the Bolsheviks from the Tsars to
be catapulted into the modern, industrial world – a world into which
political leaders managed to succeed in launching nuclear missiles and
space shuttles, but at the same time failed to supply ordinary citizens
with their very basic needs, such as housing, food, medical care or
consumer goods. While being a symbol of progress and legitimacy meant to
prove the socialist systems’ superiority over its capitalist rival,
Soviet technology, in the end, failed to live up the rhetoric of its
political leaders who demagogically claimed, as early as Lenin’s times,
that ‘technology serves the masses’: “Technology became technology for
Stalin and the state, not for the sake of the worker” the author
concludes (p. 56).
However,
the `20s were times of extraordinary great hopes and plans for all
Bolshevik leaders. The future Communist paradise of plenty still seemed
possible. In spite of their political and personal rivalries, Trotsky,
Bukharin, Kamenev, Stalin, Zinoviev, Pyatakov, Kirov, and many other
less famous revolutionaries agreed that technology had a central place
in their ambitious, even utopian, development programs. Russia’s
extraordinarily backward agrarian economy had to be drastically reformed
and industrialized – in a public speech held in February 1931 Stalin
himself stated that “we lag behind the leading countries by fifty to 100
years” (p. 60) –, the country electrified, the illiterate muzhik
had to be transformed into a highly-skilled, educated and political
aware Soviet citizen. The ways and means to achieve these ambitious
visions engaged not only reversed engineering and technological theft,
but also purchasing Western, particularly German and American
technology. Starting from the times of Lenin and until the early ‘30s,
the Soviets had been engaged in an intensive technological exchange with
the main advanced capitalist states. Almost all early Soviet hero
projects, like Magnitogorsk, Volkhovstroi, Dnieprostroi or the Belomor
Canal have been designed using Western know-how. They hired American
experts and bought American technology on a massive scale: for instance,
the Stalingrad Tractor Factory has been designed by the Albert Kahn Co.
from Detroit, the same American firm which provided the blueprints for
the main Ford plant in the United States; the model of the ‘Soviet
Detroit’ has been based upon its real American correspondent; also,
between September 1921 and December 1924 the Soviet government has
bought a number of 500 steam locomotives from the Swedish firm Nydqvist
och Holm AB and paid for them in gold, fifty-six tons to be more precise
– the gap between Soviet Russia and the United States, which, for
instance, had six times more kilometers of railways, had to be
filled-in. However, the promised future of the bright colors and
plentiful consumption never arrived.
The
second chapter, “Proletarian Aesthetics: Technology and Socialism in
Eastern Europe” discusses the legacy of Stalinist technologies in
postwar Eastern Europe and describes the history of the Soviet
technological style`s influence in such diverse countries like Bulgaria,
Czechoslovakia, East Germany and Poland during the `50s. The author
starts from the premise that, on technological grounds “something
distinctly Soviet distinguished the countries of East Central Europe
from their Western counterparts” (p. 68). Remarkably, he manages to
avoid the trap to write a history of the “victors” – the Western
capitalist nations – and to focus only upon the failings of the
socialist “losers”. By highlighting the achievements of socialism in
housing, transport, schooling and industrial development – “the
socialist nations achieved remarkable success in meeting the goals of
rebuilding war-torn societies in short order setting out to create
egalitarian societies, and striving to provide inexpensive housing,
energy, education, and medicine to all citizens” (p. 76) – professor
Josephson ensures a nuanced discussion and avoids the temptation to
judge socialist leaders according to Western criteria and terms of
comparison. During the `70s and especially the `80s, after an initial
burst of economic growth associated with the efforts to rebuild
devastated societies, Eastern economies started to lag behind
international standards in terms of productivity, competitiveness and
safeness in environmentally terms. Then indeed, “life was gray,
comrades!” (p. 79).
The
third chapter offers fresh and valuable clues necessary in order to
understand the main coordinates of technological development of such a
unique society as the North Korean one is. From its very first days of
existence, the Democratic People`s Republic of Korea followed strictly a
Soviet-style – or, better-said, a pure Stalinist – pattern of evolution
in terms of economic and technical progress: strict centralization and
bureaucratization of almost every sphere of life, forced
collectivization of agriculture driven regardless of social costs and
consequences, gigantomania-stricken (in fact utopian) projects for
industrial development, military and civilian Soviet-assisted nuclear
programs, and so on. If, following his teacher Stalin, the Great Leader
Kim Il-Sung initially declared “We should introduce all the technology
superior to ours, regardless of the country it comes from” (p. 122), by
the `60s the Korean Worker`s Party had already embarked on a severe
policy of self-help merged with “socialism” and almost full autarky,
known as the Jucheideology. An ideology which, in turn, led the
country shortly to virtual isolation: this was a sharp break with the
experience of the Soviet Union which, however Stalinist it may have
been, “recognized the need to extract leading technology from the
advanced capitalist nations for application in socialist productive
relations” (p. 139). However, as in every Stalinist system, the North
Korean periphery, and generally the countryside, served the center at
immeasurable costs, especially in terms of human expense.
The
fourth and fifth chapters, “Floating Reactors: Nuclear Hubris after the
Fall of Communism” and “Industrial Deserts: Technology and
Environmental Degradation” examine extensively the Soviet and
post-Soviet (contradictory in essence) model of economic development and
political control and its extensive social and environmental desastrous
consequences. Linked by a common topic – the social and environmental
costs of Soviet industrial and civil nuclear programs – their analysis
is based upon massive empirical data which the author had the chance to
gather during his years spent in the USSR and later Russia as a
researcher. Not only the tradition in pushing forward nuclear technology
generated the publicly recognized ecological nightmare of post-Soviet
Russia, but also a commonly shared attitude appearently manifested by
Soviet planners and engineers, an attitude which dates from the Stalin
era and according to which a state of war against the elements (and
nature) would ensure the future proletarian paradise of plenty (p. 225).
A paradise which never came for the ordinary worker, as the next
chapter, “No Hard Hats, No Steel-toed Shoes Required: Worker Safety in
the Proletarian Paradise”, convincengly shows. In fact, by analyzing
extensively his condition inside Soviet and post-Soviet society in a
series of different settings and decades – in fact, during almost the
entire twentieth century – professor Josephson manages to assemble an
impressive chapter of social history. Of course, the same can be said
about the last chapter, “The Gendered Tractor”, which offers some
questions regarding issues of technology and gender in Stalinist Russia:
the paradoxes of socialist liberation of Soviet woman and her dual role
inside the classless society – to maintain the home and to be engaged
in a second full-job.