The Edwardian Clock

A clock is a magical object.  Born a hundred years ago or more, this one, like the others, repeats its own time in twelve-hour cycles, while times around it change.  Such was the Edwardian clock that sat on the mantelpiece at the end of Bredon’s coffee shop.  I always chose a seat from which I could watch its minutes ticking by, its glass face reflecting the light from the windows.  It was made of a coffee-coloured mahogany with a round sepia face and Arabic numerals covered in glass and surrounded by a thin brass rim.  Its curved body sat on round stumpy feet.  Between each black numeral were short thin lines to indicate the minutes.  I had noticed that when I was extremely busy with my thoughts or reading, the clock’s hands went much faster than when I was just sitting empty-headed, waiting for my coffee to arrive –and perhaps a toasted bacon sandwich or a cupcake, depending on the time of day.

The clock’s shy presence spelt certainty to me –harking back to a time when, or so I imagined, things were simpler, more dignified than they are today and more reliable.  And even if its makers lived in troubled times, the hours they dreamt of were embodied in the clock.

My usual seat had a certain peculiarity: due to some odd acoustics, I could hear conversations taking place at a table on the opposite side of the coffee shop and, quite unobserved, I could discretely watch the talkers in a mirror that hung to one side of their table, while pretending to read my book.

That afternoon was a fresh autumn one.  The sun was still out but the air was cold as a slight breeze was blowing a few more yellowing leaves down on to the grey stone pavements.  As I pushed the door open, the soft bell rang to announce my arrival and the smell of coffee greeted me as I walked across to my favourite table.  I nodded to the clock which gazed back shyly at me, remarking to me that it was just past four.

***

As it was afternoon, I ordered a coffee and a cupcake, put on my reading glasses, opened my book and began reading: The Czechs had a national state in the Kingdom of Bohemia, which lasted with varying degrees of independence until 1620...

A few minutes later, the waitress came with my coffee and cake on a tray, smiled and put them down before me –the clock, now at 4:10pm ticked a little faster I thought.  Just as she left me, two Indian-looking gentlemen sat down at the table across the floor from mine, and as I was sitting in the place with the special acoustics I could hear them speaking together –they were not talking in one of the Indian languages but in English.  One of them was tall, rather heavily-built and imposing with stern features –brown-skinned with heavy, dark eyebrows, piercing brown eyes and a mop of straight black hair on his head. The second was shorter by about six inches, and grey-haired, lighter-skinned than the first man, very elegantly dressed and with soft grey eyes. 

From the first man’s words, I deduced that their conversation had already started as they were on their way to the coffee shop:

“I would say that the anti-communists were inconsistent, not us...”

The second man butted in:

“You!  Not inconsistent?  You’re a Stalinist.  You’ve always been a Stalinist.  And now you say you want to include his arch-enemy among your idols!  Look at your young supporters out in the street selling your newspaper with Marx, Engels, Lenin, Stalin, Trotsky, Mao and Hoxha!  Poor kids!  How could they ever defend such a display of inconsistency to the people they meet?  It doesn’t make any sense.

“All of those men made positive contributions to the revolutionary struggle,” said the first man.

Glancing at the mirror, I saw the face of the second looking at the first in astonishment, and then he said:

“Yes, at different times, they may have done.  But Stalin will not be remembered for his contributions to the people’s cause, organizing the Bolshevik Party clandestinely under the Tsar –but for his crimes against the people when he got into power!”

The first man said: “You know what your problem is?  You’re a sectarian.”

The second man said: “Me!  A sectarian?  But you’ve spent your entire life arguing against everyone else, upholding Stalin’s crimes as his great contribution to the people’s cause!”

The first replied “No.  You have upheld Trotsky’s treachery towards the Soviet people, his conspiracy against the Bolshevik Party and against Stalin.  And you argue that his villainous record represents a great contribution to the revolutionary struggles of the people” (the clock had begun ticking a little faster).

The second replied: “No.  Trotsky correctly worked to expose Stalin’s murderous actions against the Bolshevik Party and the Soviet people.  I’m not going to relativise him in this way.  It seems that your praise for the two of them is simply a way of attacking Trotsky and preserving Stalin.”

The first continued: Now, don’t get excited.  Of course we accept that Stalin was not perfect.  But he made no mistakes of principle...”

The second replied: “You’ve spent your life saying that.  What the hell do you mean?  Do you mean his genocidal policies were not mistakes because he was not a Marxist-Leninist?”

The first said: “He followed a necessary path on the road to socialism.  But so did Trotsky when he fought the uprising at Kronstadt. Chaos would have broken out if they hadn’t acted in those terrible ways.  Are you saying Trotsky was not a Bolshevik?”

The second said: “Of course Trotsky was a Bolshevik; he was the head of the Red Army –and Lenin’s true heir!  And if he had headed the Party after Lenin died, things would have turned out completely differently to the way they were with Stalin in charge!”

The waitress came to my table to pour me out another cup of coffee.  I could have told these two disputants that Lenin was no different from Stalin –his treatment of the other socialist groups in the Soviet Union –the anarchists, especially, not to speak of the more liberal people and the religious ones –was at least heavy-handed and certainly very repressive, in line with his theory of the dictatorship of the proletariat.  The trouble was that both of these two men revered Lenin, the repressor of the anarchists, the Mensheviks, the philosophers and the Orthodox clergy, which is why Trotsky could not claim that Stalin was not the true heir to Lenin.  The clock ticked on agreeably.

But what use would it have been to butt in on their conversation.  They would both have labelled me an anarchist, a social democrat, even a Christian or worse, whereas I simply considered myself a human being trying to find the truth.  Both were narrow in their outlook, but the first man’s attempt to line up a collection of argumentative people who openly disavowed each other seemed absurd to me.  Yes thought the clock, while –as if to confirm me –at that moment I heard the second man’s voice telling the first:

“A few years ago you were attacking Che Guevara and Fidel Castro as enemies of Marxism-Leninism.  Now you want to line them up with the others.  Where’s the consistency in that?  And now you’re doing the same with Khrushchev –for years he was seen as the enemy of Stalin, even though he was a Stalinist –he was still against Trotsky –yet now you want to line him up there with Mao and the others.  You’re not making any sense!”

Back came the first man’s voice: “The world doesn’t make any sense to people like you because it is full of contradictions.  Just because two people hate each other during their lives doesn’t mean they can’t work together for the same cause –after all, Lenin and Trotsky were opposed to one another before the Revolution, and yet they united to make the Revolution.  And even if one kills another, as you seem to believe Stalin did Trotsky, this doesn’t mean they are against the cause they each proclaim in their own way.”

“Sophistry!” said the second man.  I heard the clock tick just a little faster than before.

But the first man said: “Let me continue!  Please!”  And I noticed his piercing eyes from under his dark eyebrows staring very angrily at the second man.   He went on, while the other gazed distractedly:

“You want socialism?  Then you have to take into account the differences that exist between different nations.   You can’t expect socialism in North Korea to look the same as in Cuba or the Soviet Union, except in the most superficial way.  They are different cultures with different histories, different traditions, different religious beliefs, different ethical codes, and so on.  How might an African country follow a socialist path? Do you think that just by waving red flags and getting everyone to read Mao’s red book they would become socialist?  Would the revolution in Nigeria look the same as in Russia in 1917?  Would the Nigerians have their own Winter Palace to attack?  How absurd!  And what about our own great country, India!   Do you envisage a Long March like Mao’s –in India?  The national question is central.”

“I don’t know why you’re talking down to me –of course, the revolution differs from country to country, from culture to culture –and if anything, I should be telling you about the importance of culture, since you vainly turned your back on those developments in the 1960s and 1970s.  This doesn’t mean differences are simply due to national characteristics, and it does not explain why differences exist within the revolutionary movement in a single country.  So let’s hear what you have to say about that!”

“Differences have always existed between socialists, but they are still socialists...”

“Oh, so perhaps you would include the National Socialists in your merry list?”

In the silence that followed this comment I noticed that the clock had assumed a worried look and I heard it ticking more softly but at twice the speed!  And glancing across at the mirror, I saw the first man staring even more angrily at the second, whose look betrayed a distinct fearfulness.  Finally, the first man spoke again.

“You refer to Hitler and you should be very careful how you speak of him, my friend.  After all, it is known that in his conspiracy against the Soviet Union, Leon Trotsky allied himself with the German Nazis.”  I could hardly hear the clock now.

Now the second man’s expression changed to steaming anger.  He almost banged his fist down on the table, as he said:

“And you should be very careful to note that Stalin’s generals got very chummy with Hitler’s generals in the 1930s, behind the backs of the Russian people.  If that was not conspiracy, I don’t know what is.  Trotsky had nothing whatever to do with Hitler’s project, whereas Stalin –it is proven –had a good deal in common with him!”  The clock jumped about a millimetre on the mantelpiece and stared at the two men.

“So you continue to insist on upholding Trotsky against Stalin?”

“You are being ridiculous.  The facts speak for themselves.  How do you explain the Hitler-Stalin Pact to divide Poland?  Your speculations about Trotsky hold no water, and you have no right to wear the badge of Trotsky –no more right than Hitler had!”

“Do you dare to equate me with Hitler?” said the first man, brandishing a magazine across the table at the second man.

“If the cap fits...”

“You agent provocateur!”  By now the clock had stopped ticking and was now breathing fitfully.

“It is a provocation to say that Trotsky had any dealings with Hitler –a provocation put about in the West by people like Sayers and Kahn in their awful diatribe, The Great Conspiracy.  But I can see this conversation is going nowhere.  Why don’t you get back to my original question about why differences exist within the socialist movement in a single country?”

“You are the one who brought Hitler into this.  And please note that both Sayers and Kahn were Jews, so if you’re thinking of using that worn-out propaganda about Stalin being anti-Semitic, you’ll have to explain why so many Jews supported him –all over the world!”

“O.K., I’m sorry for bringing Hitler into it.  Now, go ahead and answer my question.”

But then the first man said something I wasn’t expecting:

“I should draw your attention to something else, while we are talking about these matters.  The Jews were generally vilified in the 19^th century –for one thing by the Catholic Church; for another, by certain socialists who still have a following today –before Hitler was even born.”

His colleague looked surprised, but I knew what the first man was referring to –statements made by Proudhon and Bakunin deploring the Jews and wishing fire and brimstone on them.  Thus the first man was making a veiled attack on the anarchists.  The second man, meanwhile, thinking at first that he referred to certain remarks made by Marx in his study, The Jewish Question, suddenly realized that he was not, but was on about some obscure reference he had not himself come across.  He sat with a serious look, but he was a perceptive man and he ended up by saying:

“The 19^th century could not know what would happen in the 20^th century; some socialists allowed themselves to make extreme statements not realizing that what they were saying would be taken literally by the lumpenised products of militarism and imperialism who inhabited the following century.  They cannot be held to account for their blind excesses.”

The first man continued:

“What I have understood for some time now is that while socialism made some very important strides in the 20^th century, it is now at its ebb.  The tide has temporarily turned, is no longer flowing in but away.  This is indisputable.  What has stopped it from flowing in is the egotism that has accompanied it, giving rise to sectarianism, where everyone, and his uncle, wants to be the leader, instead of cooperating with the others.  It is the competitiveness of the capitalist system transferred to the workers’ movement.  And the only way to deal with this is to bring things together, starting with the ideas.  Instead of maintaining the great differences that have divided everyone, we must unite around the correct line.  What we should do is praise each of the prominent socialists for his contribution –not fight everyone who differs from the rest!”

While he was speaking, I thought, oh, yes, all led by you!  The clock agreed and smiled.  But the second man said:

“So you would agree with Khrushchev’s rehabilitation of Tito, then?”

“Of course!”

“But that means contradicting Stalin and the Stalinists.”

“As I freely admit, Stalin made mistakes, but not of principle –oh, and Tito also made mistakes...”

“In Tito’s case you mean the mistake of trying to annex Albania?” asked the second man.

“Annex is a strong word, but yes, along those lines –and the Albanians are not exempt from mistakes either.”

“And I suppose Nikita Khrushchev, and Fidel Castro, the Vietnamese, Laotians, Cambodians, all the communist parties –and all the leftist movements, too?

“You suppose correctly.”

“And you?”

“I’m only human.”

“So you have made mistakes?”

“Surely, and you too...”

“And your mistake would be following one leader and denouncing another –or is it that my enemy’s enemy is my friend, eh?

“We are all Marxist-Leninists –we have never made a secret of that.”

“Not Maoists, then?”

“No, not Maoists.  We recognized Mao’s revolutionary contributions, but we were never Maoists, always Marxist-Leninists.”

“But you did use to call yourself a Maoist.”

“Never.”

“Never, eh?  Well, look at this paper of yours from 1970,” and the second man drew out a rather tattered-looking newspaper from his inside pocket.  “Yes, its’ one of yours, and here, you see, it says: ‘I am a Maoist.’”

“That is all in the past,” said the first man, trying to grab the paper from him.

“That’s what we’re talking about,” said the second man.  “The past!”

And then silence reigned –for about a minute.  The waitress passed by their table and the first man asked for more coffee.  The clock was ticking a little shakily but was starting to sound a little relieved as things seemed to be coming to an end.  The second man was still looking at the first man, obviously hoping for a reply to his question.  Then the first man began again:

“A person can be many things but Hegel talks about the negation of the negation.  You may think I was a Maoist, but I was not.”

“Even though you said you were,” said the second man, ignoring the first man’s Hegelian hocus-pocus.

“They are just words in a paper attributed to me.  Words are not the same as actions.  We respected Mao but we were always Marxist-Leninists –in practice.”

End of conversation, I ventured to think.  How could the second man carry on with this charade of a conversation? I thought.  The clock must have agreed with me because by now it had resumed ticking normally.  The first man was never going to admit he was wrong to him.  Nevertheless, the second man then said:

“You have built a mass movement –that can be a liability as well as an asset.  In doing so, you sought a better world –but I ask myself what would be better in your eyes, given that your own ideas were wrong.  Now you must admit this –you were wrong.  Whatever happens when you admit it, even if your movement collapses...  
Think of all those loyal people who will be even more misled than they are already if you don’t admit your mistakes to all of them –to the world –and not just to one or two of your trusted inner circle.”

“Unity above all else,” said the first speaker.  “Marx, Engels, Lenin, Stalin, Mao and Hoxha are not enough even with Trotsky added.  We must inscribe the lesser lights of the Marxist-Leninist movement on our banners –people like, Plekhanov Bukharin, Dmitrov, Kim Il-sung, Liu Shao-chi and Guevara... I could go on.”

And I thought to myself: for you, the future stops at the wide open door of Marxism-Leninism.  You invoke what you think of as “everyone” to annihilate others –still!

***

An hour had passed since I came in.  The clock was still ticking, but it looked back at me in some alarm as the first man left; the second man seemed to be sleeping at the table –but with his eyes open, staring into space.

I read from my book: The Hungarians entered Central Europe at the end of the ninth century, and conquered the Slav kingdom of Moravia, which then occupied the middle of the Danube valley.

September 20, 2016 (with many thanks to Alicia)