To reject compromises "on principle," to reject the admissibility of compromises in general, no matter of what kind, is childishness, which it is difficult even to take seriously. A political leader who desires to be useful to the revolutionary proletariat must know how to single out concrete cases when such compromises are inadmissible, when they are an expression of opportunism and treachery...--Lenin, "Left-wing Communism, an Infantile Disorder"
Regardless of what anyone thinks of Lenin's politics, he was a gifted political organizer who understood very well the process requirements of building a social movement. At the time of his writing, some communists (the right-wing) were too ready to compromise while others (the left-wing) were too ready not to compromise. Both lacked a firm commitment to social transformation and the patience and work it often entails. If someone wishes to be useful to nonhuman animals, s/he must be ready to work patiently, and to ask and understand when compromise is appropriate. That doesn't mean there cannot be differences of opinion about how to answer questions about when compromise is appropriate, but any advocate unwilling to even ask this question is no advocate at all.
If there was one thing Lenin understood well, it was the danger of compromising too much but also refusing to compromise when it was irrational not to do so. As a general matter, pretending as though we can build social transformation without some compromises is deeply misguided. We all walk on sidewalks. Some compromises are the requirement of our work. On the other hand, some compromises go to far. Many reflect opportunism, some thinly veiled, but others, completely naked, but in animal advocacy, welfarism (new or traditional, militant or non) is always a type of inexcusable opportunism in various forms.
Traditional animal welfare organizations, for example, do not even keep their willingness to compromise on ending the property status of nonhuman animals a secret, and instead, to reassure their donors, publicly remind us all that the only changes they seek, if they seek any at all, are a little extra cage space, some better food, and perhaps a slightly less painful, slightly less terrifying death for nonhuman animals. They acknowledge the moral consideration of nonhuman animals, but then fail to explain what that moral consideration entails: veganism, abolition of the property status of nonhuman animals (and the restoration of animal personhood that this abolition entails), and an end to speciesism. They sell indulgences in the form of humane labels and donations to a nonvegan public.
New welfare groups are slightly cagier. They appropriate the rhetoric of "abolition later" and abolition's critique of nonhuman animals slavery. But then they turnaround and promote reforms to 'help nonhuman animals today', to promote vegetarianism today (sometimes even strict vegetarianism, but much more often not), to promote single issue "bans" on types of treatment. Banning the whip but leaving the shackles will not result in anyone's freedom, and it will never lay the ground work for anyone's freedom.
In effect, new welfare organizations sell indulgences in exchange for donations to a primarily nonvegan public. They promote antics instead of serious work to prevent anyone from take nonhuman animals too seriously. In these "reforms", this nonvegan public tends to see progress, even serious change, when any reasonable person can see that reform proposes to do little more than keep the system intact at the cost of lives. In short, the difference between welfare and new welfare is largely a rhetorical one.
There should be no doubt that welfare reform is a kind of opportunist compromise and collaboration with the status quo. It is, unmistakably, then, wholly ridiculous when those who advocate both reform and violence (ridiculous enough by itself), point the finger at anyone as a "collaborator". Any time and resources spent on welfare reforms are time and resources spent without meaning for nonhuman animals, but they also signal to the public that animals are ours to use, if only we use them in particular ways. All welfare organizations engage in this kind of wink and nod that proposes to 'reduce suffering' rather than to abolish the slavery of nonhuman animals.
But there has been a lot of debate about "militant new welfare", the "left-wing" of the welfare movement, recently, and that debate has reflected a lot of confusion. Part of the problem is that there are (at least) two kinds of militant new welfare groups: older groups who appropriate abolition and attempt to graft on both violent adventurism and lukewarm, piecemeal reforms, and newer groups who just appropriate abolition and attempt to graft on violence.
The first generation of militant new welfare groups proposed "anything" done for nonhuman animals as meaningful, never asking whether it was morally justified, never asking whether it actually a series of mutually contradictory tactics achieve anything tactically. The old militancy (and this is a misuse of the term militancy) proposed not a strategy but rather a refusal of strategy in an effort to woo any and all takers. But at much length, these latter groups have figured out how difficult it is to sell reform and violence as a consistent whole to an already vegan public who sees nothing changing.
The new militancy dispenses with the most obviously anti-abolitionist plank of the old program. But it still says that we can still be violent, we can still engage in single issue campaigns, and still use nonhuman animals, as our propaganda tools, we can still collect donations and we can still engage in antic-based activism, so long as we save the lives of a few nonhuman animals every once in a while we're at it. They're out to woo those disillusioned with the glacial pace of welfare reforms that would never achieve anything anyway, with a "new" program that replaces pointless reforms with pointless violence and confrontation.
This second generation of militant new welfare groups are even a bit cagier, but none of us should be fooled. They know that endless welfare campaigns (both old and new) are the seed bed of activist depression and pessimism. And so, these groups also appropriate the rhetoric of "abolition later" and abolition's critique of nonhuman animal slavery. But then they turn around and promote adventurism, even personal violence in some instances, in order 'to help nonhuman animals today'. They also signal to the public that animals are ours to use, so long as we use them for education (and donation drives). Sometimes, they promote vegetarianism (sometimes even strict vegetarianism), or single issue "bans" on types of treatment.
But just like nonmilitant new welfare groups, they sell adventurism and a petty revenge in exchange for donations to a primarily vegan audience who has come to see welfare reform as the meaningless twiddling of bureaucracy that it is."And if you can't be part of the direct action super squad," they say, "that's fine, you can go to a fur protest, and if that's too controversial, here are some veg*n pamphlets to hand out, or if you can't do that, no need to even buy a balaclava, you can buy the t-shirt, just be sure to make a donation -- it all saves the lives of nonhuman animals."
For an abolitionist, who supports the basic rights of all sentient beings, who sees animals as persons, not as education tools, not as marketing opportunities, and not as an excuse to break things, this is a distinction without a meaningful difference. Nevertheless, a lot of people have been confused by this shift in the scene.
But as Gary L. Francione has argued in Rain Without Thunder, (a book that every animal advocate should read), "all forms of animal welfare--even the most generous--assume that nonhumans are, for all intents and purposes, the slaves of humans." You can often tell a welfare organization by its nice Web site with a prominent donation button. But you can always tell a welfare organization by its mobilization and appropriation of the suffering of nonhuman animals and its prominent demand for donations and uncritical if not wholly unconditional support for its work.
In short, some welfare groups sell indulgences to a nonvegan public. Some groups sell adventurism to a vegan one. Some of these groups even have the brass to declare themselves anti-capitalist in an effort not only to appropriate the suffering of nonhuman animals, but to appropriate the suffering of the world's human poor while they're at it. But it's not anti-capitalism if you're trading off the backs of animals (human or non); it's the opposite.
Of course, it would be wrong to say that there is absolutely no difference between traditional welfarism, new welfarism, and militant new welfarism (in its various faces). They all propose to sell different things to their buyers. However, it seems clear that they are all in the business of selling something to someone, and if that business overlaps with helping nonhuman animals, it's mostly incidental. It's unfortunate, but a lot of very well-intended people are taken in by these groups. One thing is true, however: those who content themselves with promoting violence, reform, or violence and reform, refuse themselves the pleasure of actually talking about and making change for nonhuman animals.
To be an abolitionist, it is not enough to refuse violence and to refuse reform. Nor is it not enough to criticize other welfare groups or to smash windows. People who aren't even vegan already do that. It is not even enough to be lukewarmly ambivalent about abolition. To be an abolitionist is to talk, work and think abolition, and that requires that we be vegan, actively, that we refuse other forms of irrational prejudice, actively, (e.g., sexism, heterosexism, racism, and so on), that we work, actively, and only on what could legitimately lead to the abolition of animal slavery (e.g., promoting abolitionist veganism), that we oppose speciesism, actively, (not just in words, but also in deeds) and that we build, actively, a mass movement that insists on an end to animal slavery. Without a "mass", there can be no "movement", and so, nonviolence not only is, but must be, the guiding principle of the work of all abolitionists.
As radicals, we have to think bigger than branding and posturing. It is not enough to donate and bloviate. Radicalism is neither the pessimism of a refusal to struggle, nor is it the histrionic sociopathology required to see an enemy in every other face but our own. It reflects a rationally-driven set of tactics that are planned to meet a specific strategy that has been planned to meet specific objectives. Radicalism is a vegan breakfast program, a vegan cooking class, street theatre, animal rights lectures and reading groups, vegan food coops and, most of all, each of these things insofar as they promote abolitionist vegan education and the building of the framework in which veganism and the end to animal slavery are not only viable, they're desirable, not some day in a fabled future, but right now, today.
Real vegan radicalism is a matter of defeating our opponents with a touch, and that touch is education, perhaps also cookies.
Between the economism and ultraleftism of welfare in all its many faces, hustlers in a marketplace that conflate talk with action, abolitionists can build and organize a movement that leaves this opportunism behind, that not only says "no!" for those who need us to be uncompromising in defense of their rights, but to do the work required to get them free from slavery and the compromises that this work often entails. There's no need to wait around for anyone to lead us. Not everyone who says: "I'm an abolitionist" is an abolitionist. But unto him- or herself, every abolitionist is an underground railroad, a revolution and the broad and smiling face of a future that is inevitable, so long as we do the work requires to make it so.
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