In 1964, Ivan Avakumovic,
then the Professor of History at the University of British Columbia, published
the first volume of the History
of the Communist Party of Yugoslavia (KPJ) that took the reader from the
Party’s foundation in 1919 to the Nazi German (and Italian, Hungarian and Bulgarian) invasions
of Yugoslavia in 1941. There was presumably to be the second volume. But I have
never seen it, nor does it seem to exist anywhere on the Internet. Avakumovic,
according to Internet searches, went on to pen the history the Communist Party
of Canada but he seems to have never returned to his earlier topic.
I read the book in the
1980s. And now under the conditions of a lockdown I reread it. I found it better
than in the 1980s perhaps because many of the issues raised in the book have by
now played out: Communism does not exist, the Party does not exist, and the country
does not exist. But the reasons that have led to such an outcome can be now better
seen to lie in the Party’s origins. By knowing the epilogue we are in effect
better able to see the seeds of destruction—much better at least than I was
able to do in the 1980s.
I would like to mention the
high quality of the book. Avakumovic has read a multitude of party newspapers, obscure
bulletins, even leaflets produced during more than twenty years of the Party’s intra-war
existence. He has studied numerous publications issued by Party’s factions, and
discusses with gusto the factional struggles that dogged KPJ. He has what I
would call the “English” approach to historiography. It combines very clear writing
with somewhat ironic detachment from the subject matter, often “damning with faint
praise”, an attitude which to non-English readers, if the book were to be
translated, might often appear incomprehensible. It is only towards the end of
the book that I detected a slight loss of steam as if the author was somewhat
in a rush to complete the manuscript. Perhaps that Avakumovic was: I do not
know at exactly what time of his career he wrote it.
The main theme, of more
general than merely local importance, is the difficulty of establishing a
workers’ party in an ethnically, culturally and economically diverse environment,
where additionally the working class is not numerous and is unevenly
distributed across the country. This was a standard problem of Central European
left-wing parties including the Russian Social Democrats before 1914: should the party focus on dissatisfied
minorities, or should it focus on workers’ rights? These two parts always sat
uneasily in social-democratic (later communist) politics, and Austro-Marxists
and Bolsheviks tried, without huge success, to reconcile them. Yugoslav
communists tried too, but, as we know, failed.
This issue, in the
Yugoslav context, brings to the fore the
centrality of Croatia. Why? Because Croatia has exactly the two features that
made it both very susceptible to Communist agitation and rendered such
agitation problematic. It had significant (by Yugoslav standards) agglomerations
of the working class in large industrial cities (Zagreb, Rijeka/Sušak, Sisak, Split). And it also had an unsettled, and broadly secessionist,
popular sentiment with regard to the Yugoslav state that was hurriedly proclaimed
at the end of 1918 on the wreckage of the Habsburg monarchy.
KPJ history began with a string of successes in the 1920 elections. It garnered 12% of the vote in the general
election, becoming the fourth largest party in the Parliament and the only one with
sizeable representation throughout the country. In addition, it won mayoral
races in two largest cities (Belgrade and Zagreb). The threat to the ruling dynasty
that its successes presaged led the authorities to ban it. At that point, KPJ, by
now in semi-legality, had to choose whether to appeal mostly to the hurt national
feelings of the minorities that resented Serbian heavy-handedness, or to work
on fostering class consciousness and trade unionism. The Party tried to have
its cake and eat it. In the 1920s, it went into a virulent anti-Yugoslav propaganda,
supporting the break-up of the country. That policy might have been popular in
Croatia (and in a few other parts of the country, especially Macedonia), but it
pitted KPJ in Croatia in the contest for popular support against the Mussolini-financed
Ustaša movement. The problem was that, when it came to pure nationalism,
Fascists could always outbid Communists. Yet the book shows the remarkable degree
to which Communists and Fascists collaborated, especially in trying to
proselytize among the student youth in Croatia. From the mid-1930s however as
the Comintern began to impose a stronger anti-Fascist line and to support the
creation of “popular fronts” in Europe the collaboration waned.
Despite the fact that
Avakumovic shows no sympathy toward Tito, he recognizes Tito’s crucial
contribution (Tito became the General Secretary in 1937) to the turn away from
the “tactical collaboration” with Fascists, and increasing focus on trade unions
and workers’ rights. Tito also purged both the “Left” and the “Right” factions.
He was helped in that project, whether with his own tacit acquiescence or
rather fortuitously, by the simultaneous Stalinist purges that led to the deaths
of hundreds of Yugoslav communists living in the USSR. They were summarily accused
of all kinds of deviations and sent to the Gulag or shot. By 1941, when the
Nazis attacked Yugoslavia, KPJ was a much more cohesive party than in the early
1930s even if its membership was small (8000 plus 18,000 members of the
Communist Youth) . But as the latter number indicates, it was strong among the
young (especially at the University of Belgrade) and its “new cadres”, mostly
of workers’ origin, brought in by Tito were of a different caliber and tougher “cloth” than those who populated the
party before. It was by then a true Stalinist party.
But Yugoslavs were often tough
customers for the Comintern. One of the contributions of Avakumovic's book is to
bring out the fissiparous, quarrelsome nature of the party—harassed by the government,
hard-pressed to organize as it was infiltrated by spies and agents
provocateurs, yet always ready to fight within itself. The internal fights spilled
over to the Comintern, with various factions in a bewildering succession vying
for Comintern’s support, and then in about-faces refusing to do what Moscow
told them to. KPJ’s General Secretary, Sima Markovic, managed in the 1920s
to get first, into a nasty quarrel with Zinoviev (then the head of the Comintern),
accusing Zinoviev, inter alia, of not knowing Comintern’s official positions, and
then to top it off got embroiled in a debate with Stalin. (It was “the
unfortunate tendency of Yugoslav communists to contradict and oppose Soviet personalities”
as Avakumovic delicately puts it.) Stalin criticized Markovic’s “federalist” pro-Yugoslav
attitude accusing him of “greater Serbian nationalism”. Moreover, Stalin took
him to task for not understanding his (Stalin’s) championing of the rights of
oppressed nations, including their right to secession. Such fights continued
until Moscow eliminated all quarrelsome factionalists and got too busy in the
late 1930s with bigger issues to pay much attention to the Balkans.
In the end (not discussed
in this book of course) the Party fell victim to the same demons that it tried
to quell in the1920s: factionalism and nationalism. It disappeared and took to
the grave with it both the communist ideology and the country. Not an outcome
that many people at the founding congress in 1919 could have forecast.
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