* You Love State Socialism (You just don't know it)
Tom Jennings 1:125/111

The essay below speaks for itself. It's not an exercise in¨
commie-bashing, in case you were wondering. Taken from a book of¨
essays written by Miklos Haraszti, a Hungarian dissident, it is¨
on the surface a harsh criticism of state socialism, told in¨
terms of western capitalism.

(The manuscript for the book was smuggled out of Hungary, to be¨
published first in France as "L'artiste d'Etat" then as "The¨
Velvet Prison: Artists Under State Socialism" in the U.S. (Basic¨
Books Inc, New York).)

                         *  *  *

"Outside the capitalist corporation's walls there is still an¨
ideal free market where total freedom of opinion and speech, the¨
right to assembly, and the freedom to organize flourish. Everyone¨
goes his own way and can become a proud and independent artist,¨
free of censorship. But inside the company it is a different¨
story. There; the employee must reckon with a microcosm of¨
socialism. His human rights are severely circumscribed -- except¨
of course, his right to work. He cannot go outside the walls,¨
cannot wander at will around the factory, cannot say, write or¨
organize whatever he wants. In these matters, it is the firm's¨
interests, conveyed by its owners and managers, that determine¨
right from wrong within the corporate culture. The employee may¨
love his work, but he cannot do what he likes *unless* his ideas¨
have first been approved by his superiors. His skills have no¨
value in themselves; they exists to sustain the fiscal health of¨
the corporation. His relations with other members of the company¨
are not strictly private; they are defined by the hierarchy of¨
professional skills. If he does not live for his work, the¨
company will let him go. As long as there are other corporations¨
for whom he can work, he is all right, even if he is fired. He¨
could even, if he wishes, leave of his own accord!

"How is this (admittedly simplified) state of affairs different¨
from state socialism? Only one aspect is truly different: the¨
existence of other companies. Under socialism it is the same¨
giant firm everywhere.

"Suppose that the company for which you work buys and sells art.¨
The board of directors, faithful to the owner's wishes, seeks¨
free and independent art. Anyone can come in from the street. If¨
his art is marketable, the whole company will work for him; no¨
one will intervene in his business. If his artistic freedom is¨
curtailed, he can threaten to leave the company and look for¨
another, or he can choose to become self-employed.

"Now consider the free artist who is asked by the company to¨
paint a portrait of the owner, or to create a sculpture that¨
symbolizes the company's ideals, or simply say something nice¨
about the firm on television. The money he is paid is not a part¨
of profits; it is renumeration for having complied with the ideas¨
of the firm's management. Creative freedom has undergone a subtle¨
change: the more successfully the artist has identified himself¨
and his ideas with the interests of management, the more creative¨
freedom he can retain. He has become a *directed artist*. He has¨
become a company artist.

"How is this state of affairs different from socialism? Only to¨
the extent that, under capitalism, the artist is free to resign¨
and go to another company. On our part of the world artists can¨
only find employment with the artistic department of the national¨
company or with one if its branches. All artists are the firm's¨
employees, and their colleagues (the other employees in other¨
departments and branches) are their audience.

"The distinction between directed and free artists, between¨
directed and free art, disappears at a stroke. The artists'¨
existential uncertainty is over. A steady paycheck is assured.¨
The rent will be paid, food on the table, and a roof overhead.¨
But artists' creative freedom is also over. Nevertheless they¨
have gained a great deal: by becoming state employees they are¨
given special attention. Their position is not competitive but¨
hierarchical: they gain a measure of control over the consumers¨
of their art in exchange for being controlled themselves by the¨
coordinating authority of the state. The company's neutrality in¨
the thorny question of aesthetics is over.

"The ethics of state socialism resemble the ethics of a large¨
company. Its discipline and freedom are like those of the¨
company's workers. Further, if you will imagine the greatest¨
possible "industrial democracy" that such a concern might achieve¨
within the constraints of its corporate culture, you will have¨
arrived at an almost exact model of freedom in today's modern¨
socialist society.

"Is it censorship that guarantees that the employees of Twentieth¨
Century Fox will create movies that serve the interests of the¨
entire company? Do relationships within the film studio require¨
censoring? Is the unavoidable process of creative compromise and¨
self-correction properly called censorship? Voluntary discipline,¨
identification, and devotion are essential elements in the¨
professional's acceptance of the company as his own/ Is this not¨
freedom? After all, didn't someone once observe that freedom is¨
simply the recognition of necessity?

"It does not matter whether the answer is yes or no: we know what¨
this is all about. This form of censorship is far more effective¨
than a negative, externally imposed restriction of private¨
freedom. It is quite irresistible when it bathes the employees of¨
the socialist supermonopoly -- the nation -- in its amniotic¨
warmth. Don't forget: under socialism, there are no longer any¨
owners."
