Louis Proyect: The Unrepentant Marxist

May 6, 2012

Michael Urmann ¡Presente!

Filed under: nicaragua,South Africa,Tecnica — louisproyect @ 6:49 pm

Michael Urmann, the founder of Tecnica, one of the important Nicaragua solidarity organizations of the 1980s, is dead.

Michael Francis Urmann Nov. 20, 1944 – Apr. 28, 2012 Resident of Berkeley Michael F. Urmann, died April 28 of heart failure. Born Nov. 20, 1944, son of Frank and Katherine (Donovan) Urmann, he grew up in Pasadena, earned a B.S./M.A. (1968) in Economics from UC Berkeley, and Ph.D. at University of Utah. He taught economics for 20 years. He founded TecNica Volunteers, a nonprofit that sent supplies/technical volunteers to Nicaragua, expanding to Africa. He was active in the Free Speech Movement (1960)s, and worked tirelessly for peace and economic justice. He is survived by wife Mary Engle (Berkeley); sons David Urmann of India; Daniel Urmann (Salt Lake); son and daughter, Reed and Lily Urmann (Berkeley); mother, Katherine Urmann and sister, Nancy (Jack) Butler of Gig Harbor, WA. A celebration of his life will be held in June in Berkeley.

I first got word from his cousin, who had read my article on the death of Tecnica volunteer Paul Baizerman that had mentioned Michael. In a chilling coincidence, both Paul and Michael died of heart disease.

I was very close to Michael for about 3 years when we worked together on the project that he founded and where he served as Executive Director. As president of the board, my major responsibility was recruiting volunteers on the East Coast and serving as Michael’s chief adviser. In his trips east, he always stayed at my place and I always dropped in at his rented house in Berkeley when I was in the Bay Area.

Unfortunately, we became estranged after I voted with the rest of the board to remove him as executive director. A couple of years after the event, I wrote a letter to him trying to mend fences. I got an angry reply from Mary Engle telling me how betrayed they felt and requesting that I never write them again.

When I spoke to Hari Dillon, who had replaced Michael as executive director, a few days after my article on Paul Baizerman was posted, he told me that he had hoped to get in touch with Michael who he hadn’t spoken to since Tecnica days. I asked Hari to broker a reconciliation with Michael, if things worked out between the two of them. I was planning a trip out to San Francisco in May and looked forward to seeing both Hari and Michael.

Looking back at the board meeting that resulted in Michael’s firing, I regret having voted with the rest of the board. If I had voted against it or even abstained, our friendship would have continued.  Would it have been wrong to vote against the wisdom of the board? I suppose so but sometimes friendship trumps duty. Tecnica did not have much of a future after the FSLN was ousted in 1990 but at least I would have been able to maintain ties with a valued colleague and comrade who came out of the same sectarian crucible as me, but in his case the Maoist Progressive Labor Party rather than Trotskyism.

Like the SWP, the PLP colonized industry with the same pathetic results. Michael worked in a warehouse in the Bay Area organized by the ILWU, a traditionally leftist union. The work was backbreaking and the political payoff practically nil. After dropping out of the PLP, Michael went to the U. of Utah and earned an economics doctorate in 1981 doing a dissertation on the CIO and rank-and-file Communists that could only be written at a place like that. From the Proquest abstract:

This dissertation asserts the view that the organizing activity of rank and file Communists was an important element in the hitherto undescribed and mysterious process that led to the CIO’s rapid growth and was the basis of the strength of the CIO. It then investigates the nature of the activities as well as the character and personal backgrounds that made it possible for them to play this role. This dissertation presents a new interpretation of the role of rank and file Communists in industrial unions; it offers a new explanation for the successful creation of those unions.

In preparing this article, I learned that U. of Utah professor emeritus E.K. Hunt was Michael’s dissertation chairman. When Hunt came to the U. of Utah in 1978 Michael was already a graduate student and had assembled a lot of material about the CP’s role in organizing the CIO but nobody in the Department wanted to touch it because it was favorable to the CP.  Hunt, an occasional contributor to “Science and Society”, stepped forward and became his dissertation adviser.

Michael was a graduate teaching assistant in the economics department but never held a full-time academic job until after parting ways with Tecnica. When reminiscing about his time in Utah, Michael hardly ever mentioned the U. of Utah. His shining moment was starting up the first art movie theater in Salt Lake City. When he looked around and saw that there was none, he decided to do it himself.

The same kind of seat-of-the-pants initiative was demonstrated in a trip to Nicaragua with a group of economists around that time. Coming back to the U.S., he went to the airport to change to another flight. When the clerk had trouble working the system, Michael volunteered to come around and help him or her out. Since these were the early days of the revolution, when everything seemed possible, Michael was given carte blanche to change his flight. Flying back to the U.S., he realized that many of the country’s more skilled workers had fled. The light bulb went on over his head. Michael has his own take on the origins of Tecnica in 1984, even though he does not mention the encounter with the reservations clerk.

I should add that Michael’s article appears on a relatively new website titled Tecnica Volunteers that has lots of interesting material including the video “At Work in Nicaragua” that I digitized from a VHS tape some years ago. (Unfortunately, there is no contact information.) The video starts with Mary Engle’s observation that the first thing that hit her when she got off the plane in Managua was the heat.

My first trip to Nicaragua was with a Guardian Newspaper (the defunct American newsweekly, not the British liberal newspaper) delegation in November 1984 when Tecnica was in its infancy. A high school student in the delegation handed me a leaflet at some point with words “Programmers needed in Nicaragua” in 24 point type. That experience left me feeling like St. Paul on the road to Damascus.

As soon as I got back to the U.S., I called the number on the leaflet and volunteered for the next brigade to Nicaragua, which occurred just six months or so later. I quit my job at Memorial Sloan-Kettering and was all set on working in Nicaragua as a volunteer. From the minute I met Michael, I found that we were on the same wavelength. We had been burned by sectarian politics and were committed to the kind of broad revolutionary movement that had toppled Somoza. The best thing we could do in that period was work to build solidarity with Nicaragua to help become part of a broader process of revolutionizing Central America and then the rest of the continent. At the time our hopes were best expressed in Roger Burbach and Orlando Nuñez’s “Fire in the Americas: Forging a Revolutionary Agenda”. (Burbach eventually became a member of Tecnica’s advisory council.)

Michael persuaded me to turn down a job at the Ministry of Construction working on one of the country’s few IBM mainframes, about 1/10th the power of what I worked on at Sloan-Kettering, and returning to New York where I would start a Tecnica chapter. Over a 3-year period, we routinely held outreach meetings that drew over 100 people, many of whom became volunteers. I had missionary zeal around this project, so much so that I would allow nothing to get in the way. One time I went to an IBM PC User’s group and raised my hand during the regularly scheduled Q&A, when the typical question was something about the compatibility of some printer with MS-DOS, and starting talking about programmers being needed in Nicaragua. When the attendees starting guffawing at my intervention, the chairman told them to quiet down and invited me to the podium to finish my remarks. Those were the days.

As passionate as I was about Tecnica, nobody could match Michael Urmann for having the vision that was necessary to move the project forward. When he came to New York on fund-raising trips, he was able to convince some very powerful rich liberals to ante up. I remember his description of meetings with people like Stewart Mott, the GM heir, and Abby Rockefeller whose last name should speak for itself. Michael told me that Mott lived in a Fifth Avenue Penthouse equipped with a greenhouse. Mott had apparently become inured to pitches from the left and could barely suppress a yawn during Michael’s presentation. Abby, on the other hand, was more enthusiastic but spent much of the time hyping her own project, which was some kind of toilet that turned excrement into fertilizer right on the spot. We chuckled about this at the time but probably would have figured out some years later how important such a device would be given what John Bellamy Foster refers to as the ecological rift.

As a personality, Michael was one of a kind. Physically, his legs were disproportionately long and he strode forward on his lean frame as if he were wound up. Wearing a Woody Allen floppy hat in all seasons of the year that somehow worked with a professorial tweed jacket and tan khakis, he made his own style work. Considering the fact that he was lean as a rail, a non-smoker, and athletic (his favorite pastime was surfing), I was deeply surprised to learn that he had developed heart troubles.

Michael had an impish sense of humor that once took me by surprise. In 1987 Michael and I had met with a Cuban diplomat at their Mission in NY in order to discuss expanding the program to Cuba. This meeting apparently gave the FBI the pretext it needed to crack down on Tecnica and led to intimidating interrogations of some of our volunteers at their workplaces. They were told that we running a high-tech espionage network that ran from Nicaragua to Cuba to the USSR and that they’d better cooperate. All that because the Cubans were interested in learning more about PC’s at the time.

Out of the blue, Michael called me at work to tell me that the FBI had my name and was coming to see me at Goldman-Sachs that day. I nearly pissed in my pants. He was only joking as it turned out.

The FBI had to stop its harassment because the media called it for what it was. A Washington Post editorial from May 14 1987:

IT IS NOT ILLEGAL to travel to Nicaragua. Any American has a right to go there and to teach, repair tractors, help with the harvest or work in a clinic. Many do go, some as a concrete expression of political opposition to the Reagan administration’s policies in Central America, others for purely humanitarian reasons. This can be extremely dangerous. One American volunteer, Benjamin Linder, who went under the auspicesof a group called Tecnica, was killed there last month. And it can be unpopular, since the Sandinista government understandably does not have many friends in this country. But it is not illegal.

In spite of all this, the Federal Bureau of Investigation has been questioning large numbers of those who have returned from volunteer stints in Nicaragua. More than two years ago, Director William Webster testified that about 100 people had already been interviewed, and the pace has apparently picked up in recent months. The FBI will not discuss the reasons for these interviews other than to say that they are related to “foreign counterintelligence investigations.” This may be so, but in justifying inquiries such as these the bureau has a particularly heavy — and thus far unmet — burden of proof to bear.

Tecnica continued to thrive over the next three years, so much so that Michael decided to expand the program to southern Africa. In late December of 1989, we sent a needs assessment team to Zambia to meet with the ANC that consisted of Michael, Mary Engle, myself, Jeff Klein, and Jeff’s companion whose name—like much else—escapes me now. Jeff was a colorful character in his own right. He worked as a machinist but also had advanced electronic communications skills. As a member of the CPUSA, he became “proletarianized” like so many other members of such groups, except for people like Michael and me. Jeff had studied archaeology in graduate school and even did some field work before getting a job at GE in Lynn, long a bastion of left organizing.

One day we paid a cab driver to drive us around Lusaka to get a feel for the capital city. Michael, who considered himself a specialist in household economics more than anything else, asked the driver why so many office buildings were left unfinished. His answer: you people took the construction equipment with you. Although the cabbie had no idea that we were there to fight against neocolonialism, Michael said that he felt lifted up by his militancy. Like many long-time leftists, his greatest joy was seeing people fight against their oppression.

After Michael returned to the academy, he stayed connected to the left. I never got in touch with him but tried to keep up with his activities through Google. Here he is talking on the economics crisis:

http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-5464711507596102803

And here he is speaking at a peace rally:

January 27, 2012

Come Back, Africa

Filed under: Film,South Africa — louisproyect @ 11:58 pm

Starting a one-week run tonight at the Film Forum in New York, a new 35 mm restoration of Lionel Rogosin’s “Come Back, Africa” is a truly special event. Made in apartheid South Africa in 1959, it is the first film to lift up a rock and expose the racist system to the light of day.

In defiance of the prevailing Cold War conformity and the Hollywood film industry’s assembly-line production of schlock, Rogosin became a guerrilla fighter using a Bolex camera rather than a machine gun. He had pledged to resist racism wherever he saw it and apartheid South Africa was about as tempting a target as could be imagined.

The National Party had won the elections in 1948 and instituted the system that was finally abolished with the legalization of the ANC and Nelson Mandela’s presidency. But in 1959 the system was in full bloom. Just a year after Rogosin and his tiny crew wrapped up production, the Sharpeville Massacre took the lives of 69 peaceful protesters. It was a reflection of the reactionary mood of Cold War America that he found it virtually impossible to book the film in theaters. Fortunately, his family wealth enabled him to buy a theater in New York where, paraphrasing A.J. Liebling, he acted on the precept: “Freedom of the motion picture is guaranteed only to those who own a theater.” That theater was named the Bleecker Street Cinema, a temple of fine art beloved by everybody who attended it over the decades until its demise.

“Come Back, Africa” is a mixture of documentary and fiction inspired respectively by two of Rogosin’s idols, Robert J. Flaherty and Italian neo-realism. Using a non-professional cast, Rogosin sought to tell the story of the Black working class whose lives had been destroyed by a system that was symbolized above all by the pass law.

The main character is Zachariah (Zachariah Mgabi), who has been forced to seek for work in Johannesburg after famine strikes his native KwaZulu. The film opens with crowds of whites and Blacks on the streets of Johannesburg going about their business filmed on location by Rogosin. The class differences are manifested by their dress. The whites are in business suits and dresses and the Blacks are dressed shabbily. Zachariah, who we spot among the crowd, is wearing a threadbare suit and a weather-beaten fedora.

His first stop is a gold mine, where sympathetic co-workers tell him that without a permit, he will be fired. His only recourse is to look for work in the informal sector as a “house boy”. In a scene that is highly reminiscent of Ousmane Sembene’s “Black Girl”, a film about the super-exploitation of a Senegalese maid by a French couple, he goes to work for a brutally racist white woman who insists on calling him “Jack” after deciding that “Zachariah will not do.” When he accidentally discards some mushroom soup she had cooked, she speaks out loud to her husband about how backward the natives are.

Ironically, the woman who plays Zachariah’s boss was a South African Communist named Myrtle Berman. Monty Berman, also a Communist and a Jew, played her husband. All of the whites cast in the film were leftists of one sort or another. (Myrtle Berman is interviewed in “An American in Sophiatown”, a 2007 documentary about the making of “Come Back, Africa” that was directed by Lloyd Ross and that should be showing up in theaters sometime this year. Look for it.)

For men like Zachariah, a work permit functions like the bicycle in De Sica’s masterpiece. Without it, he is forced to wander from one low-paying insecure position to another, depending all the while on a network of fellow Black South Africans trying to survive in an oppressive system.

One of the pillars of that support network is the shabeen, a kind of speakeasy where Blacks felt comfortable talking about their plight without having the gaze of the white oppressor upon them. In perhaps the most remarkable scene in an altogether remarkable film, we see Zachariah listening in on a conversation by a group of Black intellectuals in a shabeen. Among them are Lewis Nkosi and William “Bloke” Modisane, the co-authors of Rogosin’s script. Their discussion about racism, the limits of Alan Paton-style liberalism, and other topics appear unscripted and certainly reflect the state of mind in Sophiatown, the neighborhood in Johannesburg that was home to many Black activists and artists. In a crowning scene, the men welcome a very young Miriam Makeba into their midst and listen to her sing two songs. When Steve Allen saw Rogosin’s film, he was so mesmerized by her performance that he pulled strings to get her admitted into the U.S. so she could perform on the Tonight show.

As Rogosin filmed in Sophiatown, you can see evidence of an “urban removal” underway as the Afrikaner government sought to eliminate a semi-autonomous presence that had the same relationship to Johannesburg that Harlem had to New York City. Even if Sophiatown was hospitable to Rogosin’s progressive filmmaking project, he had to keep a close eye on the presence of cops. His stay in South Africa depended on a clever ruse, namely that he was there to film street musicians as part of a travelogue for a tour company. Indeed, the footage of various musicians, including a pennywhistle band, serves as a kind of connective tissue in a somewhat rambling plot.

“Come Back, Africa” was Rogosin’s second film. In “An American in Sophiatown”, he describes “On the Bowery”—his first—as a kind of preparatory work that enabled him to learn how to use a camera and organize a production. That’s quite a mouthful considering the fact that “On the Bowery” is also a classic. (All of the Rogosin films mentioned in this review are part of the inventory of Milestone Films, a 21-year-old company dedicated to making classic cinema available once again.)

Rogosin was part of a cadre of filmmakers in the New American Cinema Group who decided to buck the Eisenhower era trends and make politically and artistically audacious works such as “Come Back, Africa”. Their contribution cannot be overstated. Formed by Jonas Mekas, the founder of Anthology Film Archives, they issued a statement on September 30, 1962 that included a comment on the film scene of the day that still has currency unfortunately:

The official cinema all over the world is running out of breath. It is morally corrupt, esthetically obsolete, thematically superficial, temperamentally boring. Even the seemingly worthwhile films, those that lay claim to high moral and esthetic standards and have been accepted as such by critics and the public alike, reveal the decay of the Product Film. The very slickness of their execution has become a perversion covering the falsity of their themes, their lack of sensibility, their lack of style.

For an idea of the rebellious spirit that animated this group, look no further than “Come Back, Africa”, a film that symbolizes a marriage between art and radical politics so necessary for the period we are living in today.

June 20, 2010

South African and Israeli apartheid: some comparisons

Filed under: middle east,South Africa — louisproyect @ 10:35 pm

Bernard Avishai

Offering left cover for the Obama administration once again, the Nation Magazine provides a platform for Bernard Avishai to attack the Boycott, Divestment and Sanctions campaign (BDS) against Israel. Avishai, an adjunct professor of business at Hebrew University and author of “The Hebrew Public”, can best be described as an Israeli dove, an avian species that should probably be replaced by a dodo given its track record.

Despite its rotten politics, Avishai’s article offers some interesting points to consider in its case study comparison of the two campaigns that targeted South Africa and now Israel. He complains that unless the left adopts the strategy used against South Africa, it will fail:

In 1987, when I was an editor of the Harvard Business Review, I interviewed Tony Bloom, CEO of the South African food processing giant Premier Group. Early on, Bloom rejected apartheid’s foundations, and his company hired political detainees after they were released from prison. He had been among the small group of white business leaders who risked all in 1985 to meet with ANC leaders in Zambia—a great turning point. He befriended future South African President Thabo Mbeki and worked to support the transition to democracy. Though he eventually moved to London, he continued to transform his conglomerate into a model postapartheid firm.

Since I have access to the Harvard Business Review, I tracked down this interview and found a key exchange between Avishai and Bloom that anticipated where South Africa was headed after the end of apartheid:

Avishai: Are you worried that “one man, one vote” in South Africa will end free enterprise?

Bloom: The government argues that black independence in the rest of Africa has resulted only in coup and countercoup, chaos, and starvation. This may be true in many cases, but the comparisons get us nowhere. But the results of “one man, one vote”-actually “one person, one vote”- surely depend on when the vote comes and under what conditions. Black rule in South Africa is historically inevitable. The question is, under what conditions is change going to take place? If it comes about at the end of a war of attrition in which racial enmity has escalated to civil violence, then I think the chance of our getting a government of retribution and revenge, a government that might be Marxist-Leninist in its policy, is much greater than if we sit down today to negotiate a joint future with black leaders. Unless whites and blacks find each other, free enterprise will become a victim.

As it turns out, the African National Congress was effectively robbed of its power to wage an armed struggle just around this time. While most of us are familiar (or should be familiar) with the USSR’s determination to throw Nicaragua overboard as part of its “perestroika” adaptation to US imperialist pressure, the ANC was just as much a victim.

As a result of the Tripartite Agreement that ended the war in Angola, the ANC was forced to abandon its bases in Angola and Namibia. Without them, the armed struggle against South Africa was much more difficult to continue. Furthermore, even if the ANC had decided to continue the fight from within South Africa, the USSR would no longer provide arms, a fact that a right-wing newspaper gloated over:

The Washington Times
July 31, 1990, Tuesday, Final Edition

ANC ‘disgusted’ by Pretoria-Moscow amity

The African National Congress is in a fury over the way the Soviet Union, its former ally and arms supplier in the struggle against Pretoria, is now rushing toward reconciliation with the white South African government.

First the Soviet Union ignored its warning against sending the world-famous Moscow Circus to South Africa. Then the Soviets announced last week that they had accepted a $1 billion loan from the South African De Beers group to develop their diamond industry.

De Beers Centenary, the offshore arm of the South African gem giant, will in return get exclusive rights to sell all Soviet rough-diamond exports over the next five years in a contract worth more than $5 billion.

Asked about the diamond deal, the ANC’s official spokesman in Zambia, Tom Sebina, said, “We are disgusted.”

Moscow’s blatant disregard of the international sanctions campaign against South Africa has caught the ANC off guard. It not only demonstrates that the Soviets are totally uninterested in sanctions, but also shows the ANC can no longer count on Soviet assistance in the supply of arms.

Perhaps the South African ruling class and its friends in the West understood that it had little to fear from an end to apartheid since there were signs early on that the ANC leadership’s bark was worse than its bite. One of the most far-sighted imperialist rulers was Britain’s Margaret Thatcher who understood that the ANC could be co-opted with relative ease despite her past intransigence against the BDS campaign of the 1980s.  On July 5th, the Independent reported:

NELSON MANDELA emerged from a three-hour meeting with Margaret Thatcher yesterday praising her stand against apartheid and racism, and thanking her for her help in securing his release from prison.

Mr Mandela said that they did not agree on everything, but there was no hint of criticism of her stand in the past. He said that they concentrated on what they had in common, not what they disagreed about. ”We have never had any quarrel with the British. We have taken different positions on different questions but there was never any enmity or quarrel.”

Mr Mandela added: ”I accept that she is an enemy of apartheid and all kinds of racism. Our differences are in the methods used to dismantle apartheid. From the outset I pointed out that we had a common approach, which we can use in order to seek solutions in regard to our country.”

Clearly Thatcher understood that South Africa would be in safe hands under Nelson Mandela.

So the question is, returning to Bernard Avishai, why could not such an outcome prevail in the Middle East? A kind of one-state resolution based on one person, one vote and even the right of return could bring down the curtain on Zionist conflict with its neighbors. A layer of Palestinian leaders, to use the term loosely, could be co-opted just as the ANC had been. Even the Hamas contingent could probably be assuaged with the proper combination of funding and formal democracy.

To some extent, Avishai’s policy recommendations amount to pure casuistry. He writes, “Is United Technologies bad because one division, Sikorsky, makes Israeli attack helicopters—or is it good because another division, Carrier, makes Palestinian air conditioners?” I would say that if put up to a vote, Palestinians would gladly trade their air conditioners for disabling IDF helicopters, especially after the raid on the Mavi Marmara.

Instead, Avishai recommends a ban on “consumer products like fruit, flowers and Dead Sea mineral creams and shampoos.” Now I have no problem having a rally in front of Ricky’s or Brenner’s chocolate shop in Greenwich Village, but I doubt that this will have much impact on Israeli apartheid.

Indeed, Avishai and other addled liberals at the Nation Magazine (especially Eric Alterman who wrote a letter complaining about the magazine’s failure to take a swipe at Hamas in the aftermath of the Mavi Marmara murders) fail to see an essential difference between South Africa and Israel. In Israel, there has been an inexorable transformation of the state into a kind of religious/authoritarian regime that makes it particularly resistant to outside pressure of any sort. The Afrikaners were of course a cauldron of “god gave us this land” zealotry but the big banking and industrial interests were less prone to bible thumping. In the final analysis, they worked behind the scenes with Margaret Thatcher and  Soviet bureaucrats to seal the fate of post-apartheid South Africa, a country now governed by economic rather than racial apartheid.

In a brilliant analysis of the flotilla incident, Norman Finkelstein raised the possibility that Israel had become a lunatic state.

What happened with the Gaza flotilla was not an accident.  You have to remember that the Israeli cabinet met for fully a week.  All the cabinet ministers discussed and deliberated how they would handle the flotilla.  There were numerous reports in the Israeli press, numerous suggestions, numerous recommendations about what to do.  At the end of the day, they decided on a nighttime armed commando raid on a humanitarian convoy.  Israel is now a lunatic state.  It’s a lunatic state with between two and three hundred nuclear devices.  It is threatening war daily against Iran and against Hezbollah in Lebanon.  Hezbollah in Lebanon has already stated on several occasions: if Israel attacks it will retaliate in kind.  Things are getting out of control.  We have to ask ourselves a simple, basic, fundamental question: can a lunatic state like Israel be trusted with two to three hundred nuclear devices when it is now threatening its neighbors Iran and Lebanon with an attack?

Our consciousness tends to lag behind events. With the unemployment rate remaining at 10 percent, with the Gulf of Mexico being turned into a vast dead zone, and with the number one recipient of American foreign aid acting more and more like Nazi Germany after the debacle on the Eastern front, the world cries out for a major challenge to the existing status quo. It is by no means assured that such a challenge will be forthcoming given the reversals of the radical movements for the past 35 years or so. While the Communist Manifesto reads like a breathlessly optimistic vision of the future, we should never forget that includes this warning at the very beginning of chapter one:

The history of all hitherto existing society is the history of class struggles.

Freeman and slave, patrician and plebeian, lord and serf, guild-master and journeyman, in a word, oppressor and oppressed, stood in constant opposition to one another, carried on an uninterrupted, now hidden, now open fight, a fight that each time ended, either in a revolutionary reconstitution of society at large, or in the common ruin of the contending classes.

With two to three hundred nuclear bombs, Israel has ever possibility of fulfilling Marx and Engels’s grave warning.

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