By TOM O’LINCOLN. A slightly different version appeared in Socialist Review No 2, Melbourne, Winter, 1990.
Jose Carlos Mariátegui seems to be little known outside Latin America. Yet in that region, he holds an important place in revolutionary history.
The official Communist Party of Peru claims his legacy, on the grounds that he was its virtual founder. The ferocious Shining Path guerrilla movement derives its nickname from a professed commitment to the “shining path of Jose Carlos Mariátegui”. Another left party, formed by the fusion of several groups in 1984, took the name United Mariateguista Party.
Others claim him as well, incuding the bourgeois nationalist Aprista party. So his closest collaborators made a strong statement immediately after his death to clarify where he really stood:
Mariátegui was not an “intellectual” but a proletarian ideologist, a revolutionary, a marxist of the Third International, know it once and for all, esteemed Messrs petty bourgeois intellectuals. In the struggle we must wage – we will defend his heritage which belongs to the worker, the peasant, and the revolutionary intellectual. (1)
In Latin America he is widely regarded as one of the great Marxists. This is partly because that continent, despite its revolutionary traditions, has produced few major Marxist theoreticians. The Mexican writer Jose Aricó wrote in 1978 that Mariátegui's major work on Peruvian society “remains, fifty years after its publication, the only really significant theoretical work of Latin American Marxism”. (2)
Mariátegui was born in the town of Moquegua in 1894. When his father abandoned the family, he and his mother were plunged into poverty. He was unable to pursue his schooling beyond the age of 15, and had to enter the printing trade. Within a short time he had worked his way off the shop floor and into journalism. In 1914 he published his first item of artistic criticism under the pseudonym “Juan Croniqueur.”
While his early interests were artistic, and he also showed a talent for racing coverage, he was drawn more and more toward political journalism. In 1916 he left his first employer to join a new daily, El Tiempo, which had a more leftist orientation. Two years later he launched his own magazine, only to find that the owners of El Tiempo refused to print it. This led him to break with El Tiempo and launch a newspaper called La Razón, which became his first major venture in leftwing journalism.
The new paper waged a vigorous defence of the campaign then underway for reform of the universities, and went on to become a tribunal for the defence of the young labour movement. La Razón supported a strike for the eight-hour day held in May 1919, and it reported its editor’s speech at a workers’ demonstration:
JC Mariátegui, acclaimed by the demonstrators, rose to speak. He said that for the second time the writers of La Razón had had their spirits raised by a visit from the people; that La Razón was a newspaper of the people and for the people. (3)
The paper’s aggressive radicalism brought it into conflict with the government. It was rumoured that the ruling circles offered Mariátegui a choice: either go to jail, or travel to Europe with government assistance. At any rate, he departed precipitately for Europe in 1919.
The first World War had ended only a year before. At first Mariátegui, like many young South Americans of his time, had placed his hopes in the democratic ideals professed by Woodrow Wilson, but by late 1919 the realpolitik of the Versailles treated had exploded such hopes. By this time he was more attracted to the two great revolutions of the age, those in Mexico and Russia. His arrival in Europe brought him immediately into intellectual circles close to the Communist International.
In France he established relations with the writers around the journal Clarté edited by Henri Barbusse. But for health reasons he had to proceed quite soon to Italy. It was the experience of Italian Communism and Italian fascism which decisively shaped his thought.
He was in Italy during the great Turin factory occupations of 1920, and in January 1921 he was present at the Livorno Congress of the Socialist Party, where the historic split occurred that led to the formation of the Communist Party. By the time he left the country in 1922, Mussolini was already on his way to power.
The Italian experience brought Mariátegui some important insights. The first was the obvious crisis of Italian liberalism. The old methods of bourgeois politics were proving utterly ineffectual in the face of the postwar crisis. The only serious alternatives before society were socialism or fascism. And while this catastrophic situation did not apply immediately to Peru, he did take home with him the conviction that the lived in an age when bourgeois politics were bankrupt.
In the 1920s Mariátegui advanced a fairly sophisticated analysis of fascism that in some ways foreshadowed Trotsky’s. He recognised that fascism was a response to deep social crisis, that it based itself on the petty bourgeoisie of town and country, that it relied heavily on a cult of violence. And he understood that fascism was the price that a society in crisis paid for the failures of the left:
Italian fascism represents, clearly, the anti-revolution or, as it is usually called, the counter-revolution. The fascist offensive is explained, and is realised in Italy, as a consequence of a retreat or a defeat of the revolution. (4)
He responded to the whole Italian experience by forming a permanent commitment to the Communist movement, which he saw as the only serious force holding out hope for progress in an age of world crisis.
Mariátegui was deeply concerned about the débacle of reformist socialism after 1914, and appalled at the way the established socialist leaders had betrayed the workers of Turin:
The survival of the reformist spirit in the majority of functionaries and leaders of the Italian proletariat – was obvious – The revolution was sabotaged by its leaders." (5)
He concluded that independent Communist organisation was essential, and he was instrumental in forming the first Peruvian Communist cell, along with three countrymen, in Rome in 1921-22. It was shortlived, however, as he left Italy soon afterwards.
Return to Peru
Mariátegui had ardently hoped to visit the Soviet Union. But family commitments (he married an Italian woman, Ana Chiappe, and fathered a child) along with his chronically poor health rendered the trip impossible. After a tour through northern Europe, where he was struck by the poverty he found in Austria and Germany, he returned to Peru in March, 1923.
He was soon invited to lecture at the new “Popular University” by nationalist leader Haya de la Torre. Here he delivered a series of presentations on the “History of the World Crisis", dealing primarily with Europe, in which he made explicit his orientation to the working class:
Above all, I dedicate my lectures to this vanguard of the Peruvian proletariat. No one needs to study the world crisis more than the proletarian vanguard groups. I don’t come to this free tribunal of a free university to teach you the history of the world crisis, but to study it alongside you. (6)
In these lectures Mariátegui argued that world capitalism was in terminal decline and that Peru, as a colony of imperialism, would be decisively affected. Within this crisis a new civilisation was working its way to the surface. “According to all indications, the proletarian, socialist civilisation is destined to succeed the declining, decadent moribund capitalist civilisation.” (7) But this could only happen if the workers were armed with a correct political orientation, he continued. Before the war, the European labour movement had been divided between reformist socialism and revolutionary socialism. In the postwar era the division was between reformists and revolutionary Communists, and the workers must follow the Communists.
He also turned his hand to journalism, writing sketches of international celebrities under the title “Figures and Aspects of the World Scene", discussing Mussolini, Lloyd George, Poincaré but also Lenin and Trotsky.
In this period, following the call of the Fourth Congress of the Communist International, Mariátegui campaigned in the workers’ movement to create a United Front. And while he was careful to insist that the United Front did not mean any submerging of distinctive politics, he nevertheless was prepared to engage in practical collaboration even with the Aprista party. It seems Mariátegui feared that any premature founding of a socialist or Communist party would only lead to it being crushed by state repression.
In 1926 he launched his most famous publication, the journal Amauta. In its pages he was to publish the articles about Peruvian society which are his main theoretical legacy. Even now, he did not declare the journal a socialist publication in very explicit terms:
This review – does not represent a group. It represents rather a movement, a spirit. Peru has felt, for some time, the existence of a current of renewal, which grows daily more vigorous and defined. The authors of this renewal are called vanguardists, socialist, revolutionaries, etc. History has not yet baptised them definitively – What they have in common [is the desire] to create a new Peru as part of a new world. (8)
When reproached with the sometimes heternogeneous nature of the journal’s content, he replied that the sense of direction shared by its central collaborators would protect it against losing its way. And indeed by 1928 Amauta was ready to be more explicit about its politics:
On our banner we inscribe this single, simple and great word: Socialism. With this motto we affirm our absolute independence from the idea of a Nationalist Party, petty bourgeois and demagogic. (9)
The second sentence was a declaration that Mariátegui was breaking relations with the Aprista nationalists. At this time he also decided it was time to do some intense organising. In 1929 he assisted in the formation of the General Confederation of Labour, whose main organised strength was in Lima and its port of Callao, and sent a number of his collaborators to attend the Latin American Trade Union Congress sponsored by the Communist International. In the same year he initiated the formation of the Socialist Party of Peru.
He argued, successfully or so it seemed, for the formation of a socialist rather than a Communist Party. A debate has long raged about his grounds for doing so. Part of his reasoning was simply pragmatic: he felt that a party calling itself “socialist” might not face as much repression. Some writers have argued that there was little more involved than this. Guillermo Rouillon contends that after somoe initial factional problems,
the party soon achieved with the guidance of Jose Carlos a monolithic organisation, and consequently the Bolshevik temper which characterized the Communist Party of Marxist-Leninist tendency. (19)
Others suggest Mariátegui was striving for a party less sectarian and less elitist than was intended by the Comintern, which was caught up at the time in its ultra-left “Third Period”. Jose Aricó argues:
The socialist definition of the party was not a simple problem of nomenclature. It was connected to: 1) a particular conception of alliances; 2) a differing view on its class components from that of the Comintern –; 3) a rather heterodox vision of the process of constituting it – before being the originator, it had to be result of the actions of groups at the base. (11)
The Catalan socialist Josep Ferrer contends:
Mariategui conceived the idea of a party with a wide base, though with a disciplined Communist leadership, embracing both the working class and the peasantry, in open opposition to the Comintern thesis which called for organising solely the proletariat. (12)
It seems clear that Mariátegui sought to build a revolutionary party, and that he had differences with the international movement, but the details are unlikely never to be entirely clarified, for lack of a clear statement from him about his views and intentions.
(Shortly after his death, the party overturned its previous decision and re-named itself Communist. It then engaged in ultra-left adventures that cost it dearly.)
By the end of the twenties, Mariátegui had completed two significant theoretical works. One was his Seven Essays of Interpretation of Peruvian Reality, of which the most important dealt with economic history and the situation of the Indian peoples. The other was his Defence of Marxism.
Unfortunately, there were to be no more. Mariátegui had been in poor health most of his life, losing a leg in 1924. In 1930 he became gravely ill and died. Groups of workers attended his body all night, and on the following day the trade unions supervised his burial. A multitude of workers raised the red flag and sang the Internationale. He was saluted by his saddened admirers as "the teacher, the artist and the most noble friend of the workers”. (13) And the remaining editors of Amauta declared:
Mariátegui, his memory, his life, his work belong to the proletariat – His life is our example, his work an unbreakable affirmation, his cadaver a protest. (14)
Mariátegui described himself as “a man with an allegiance and a faith” (15) and explained them in these words:
My sympathies are not with one nation or another. My sympathies are with the universal proletariat – my temperament is a polemical temperament, belligerent and combative – I don’t aspire to the title of an impartial man because on the contrary I pride myself on my partisanship, which places my thought, my opinions and my sentiments on the side of those who want to construct, on the ruins of the old society, the harmonious edifice of the new. (16)
As so much of his intervention in that struggle was intellectual, the roots and characteristics of his Marxist theoretical method assume a considerable importance. Mariátegui came to Marxism in Italy. His intellectual "universe” contained many of the same influences as that of Antonio Gramsci and the early Italian Communists. He was actually introduced to the works of Marx by the philosopher Benedetto Croce, whom he got to know personally in the house of his wife’s family. Croce was influenced by the syndicalist writer Georges Sorel, with whom he had worked at one time. The combined influence of Crocean “idealist Marxism” and Sorel’s ideas on the role of myth gave Mariátegui’s own thought a definite flavour. He writes at times about the socialist program as a “myth” in the Sorelian sense; his works are oftened with words such as “faith", “agony", "mystique"; and he displays an openness to many non-Marxist currents of thought such as Freud. For example:
The struggle for socialism raises the workers, who take part it in with extreme energy and absolute conviction, to an ascetism such that it is totally ridiculous to throw their materialist creed into their faces in the name of a theoretical and philosophical morality – The materialist, if he professes and serves his faith religiously, can only by a linguistic convention be distinguished from and counterposed to an idealist. (17)
Statements of this sort have been seized on by non-socialist critics and used to argue that Mariátegui wasn’t really a Marxist. These arguments, however, are based on a narrow view of Marxism. The statement quoted is remiscent of Lenin’s view that “intelligent idealism is nearer to intelligent materialism than is stupid materialism.” (18) It must also be seen within the context of his work as a whole, in which there is no shortage of statements affirming his agreement with classical Marxism and with Bolshevism.
For example the statement “Programmatic Principles of the Socialist Party", drafted for the party’s organising committee in 1928, refers to the “international character of the modern economy” which makes national solutions to the capitalist crisis unviable, to the need for a world revolutionary movement, and to the imperialist stage in the development of capitalism. “The practice of Marxist socialism in this period is that of Marxism-Leninism. Marxism-Leninism is the revolutionary method of the stage of imperialism and monopolies. The Socialist Party of Peru adopts it as its method of struggle.” (19)
His most substantial work dealing with theoretical method is his Defence of Marxism, written in 1928. At the time he felt a need to put his views into coherent form, not least because of the attacks on Marxism he had experienced in Peru. He seized upon the appearance of Henri de Man’s book Beyond Marxism as a suitable opportunity.
Henri de Man was a Belgian Social Democrat who became disillusioned with the Marxism he was familiar with, turning instead towards psychologies of social change (the German edition of his book was called On the Psychology of Socialism). De Man located the main source of the class struggle in a "social inferiority complex” suffered by the working class, arguing that what the workers resented about the bourgeoisie was less their wealth than their power. In the course of his work de Man struck telling blows against vulgar materialism (a revolutionary workers’ movement should indeed focus more on the issue of power than on the wealth of the ruling class) and against social democratic reformism, whose theoretical poverty he exposed. Mariátegui is quick to point out that “the most important thing about Beyond Marxism is undoubtedly its critique of reformist politics.” (20)
At the same time, however, de Man raised numerous mistaken criticisms of Marxism itself. He accused it of mechanical determinism, of lacking moral strength, of ignoring the psychological dimension. Mariátegui seeks to refute the charges, and in doing so confronts not only the work of de Man but also other writers including Max Eastman and Emile Vandervelde.
His starting point is the charge of economic determinism. The economic question is at the heart of the Marxist method, Mariátegui writes, and a "revision, let alone a liquidation of Marxism that does not attempt first of all a documented and original correction of Marxist economics is inconceivable." (21) This however is a general question of method, and not a matter of crude and automatic correlations. The Marxist method “only seeks the economic causes in the last analysis”. (22) We shall see in discussing his work on Peruvian society that he pays considerable regard to that “last analysis", but at this point he is concerned to refute the accusation that Marx saw economic factors as automatically determining consciousness and events:
Marx – took to its limits his demonstration that the process of capitalist economy itself, where most fully and vigorously carried out, leads to socialism; but he understood always as a prior condition of the new order, the spiritual and intellectual training of the proletariat to realise it, through the class struggle. (23)
Mariátegui quotes an unnamed friend as worrying that Marxism is not spiritual enough, and makes an indignant reply:
Do those who aspire to a spiritualisation of Marxism believe that the creative spirit is less present and active in the actions of those who struggle in the world for a new social order than in the moneylenders or industrialists of New York who, in a case of capitalist weariness, abandon a strong Nietzschean ethic Ð the sublimated morality of capitalism Ð in order to flirt with fakirs and practicioners of the occult? (24)
He doesn’t hesitate to speak of an “ethical function” of socialism, but this must be sought in the creation of a “morality of producers”. The source of this morality, in turn, he locates in classical Marxist fashion in the class struggle at the point of production:
A morality of producers as Sorel conceives it, as Kautsky conceives it, does not arise mechanically from economic interests; it is formed in the class struggle, carried out with a heroic spirit and passionate will. It is absurd to seek the ethical sentiment of socialism in the bourgeoisified trade unions – or in parliamentary groups, spiritually assimilated to the enemy.” (25)
Thus Mariátegui’s basic methods a complex dialectic between "material” and “ideal” factors in the historical process. That his starting point remains materialist should be clear. If not, this will be reinforced when we look at his study of Peruvian society.
Before turning to that work, however, we must consider one other matter: his views on developments in the Soviet Union at the end of the 1920s. It appears that in devoting himself heavily to Peruvian questions after his return home, Mariátegui failed to develop his ideas to meet the challenge of new events in Europe. He was slow to modify his highly optimistic views on the prospects for revolution in Europe, and made no substantial analysis of developments in the USSR whatsoever.
Finally in 1928, Trotsky expulsion from the Soviet Communist Party forced him to respond to Russian events. In doing so he displayed a certain familiarity with inner-party developments in that country, discussing Trotsky’s problems as an outsider ni the Bolshevik organisation and the origins of the Stalin-Trotsky conflict, which he traced back to 1924. However he made no attempt to set the conflict against the background of social forces: the isolation the revolution, the social weight of the peasantry, the growth of bureaucracy. Trotsky, he wrote, had an “international sense of the socialist revolution", which was a fine thing, but it “weakens him at the moment in the practicalities of Russian politics."
It is not a matter of establishing socialism in the world but of creating it in a nation which, though it is a nation of 130 million inhabitants spread across two continents, is nevertheless geographically and historically a unit. It is logical that in this stage, the Russian revolution should be represented by those men who most deeply sense its national character and problems. Stalin, pure Slav, is one of these men. (26)
To is credit, Mariátegui continued to regard Trotsky as a genuine socialist, and clearly didn’t swallow the lies about him being a counter-revolutionary. At the same time, his whole analysis was limited to a superficial and pragmatic study in realpolitik, which was unworthy of his intellect and opened him to exploitation by the later Stalinist tradition in his own country, to which his Marxism was not inherently congenial.
Analysing Peruvian society
In his Seven Essays of Interpretation of Peruvian Reality, Mariátegui made the first attempt ever at a materialist analysis of a Latin American society. Beginning with the country’s economic history, the book proceeds to a discussion of the “Indian problem", which Mariátegui locates firmly within the “land problem”. Other chapters consider public education, religion, regionalism and centralism, and literature, but space precludes a consideration of these.
The arriving Spanish conquistadors found, and destroyed, the great empire of the Incas. But they failed to replace it with a progressive new form of society, Mariátegui argues:
Spain did not send to Peru – a dense mass of colonisers. The weakness of Spanish imperialism rested precisely on its character and structure as more of a military and ecclesiastical enterprise than a political and economic one. (27)
Rather than make use of the Indians, the Spaniards seemed to seek their extermination. The use of black slaves to work on haciendas (large landholdings) created a strange mixture of feudal and slave economy in the coastal areas; while the conquerers regarded the mountains, which they disliked, simply as areas to be plundered for gold.
The colonial regime throttled Peru's commercial expansion by denying it the right to trade with any country except Spain, resulting eventually in an independence struggle as “the natural impulse of the productive forces of the colonies struggled to break this tie”. (28) But the indepencence struggle represented the interests of the criollo (ethnic Spanish) elite, rather than those of the Indian masses, and consequently it merely left the country tied to a new imperialist trading partner: Britain.
However Peru was located on the wrong coast to benefit greatly from trade with Britain, and remained a backwater except for a temporary boom in sales of guano (excrement of seafowl, used as manure). Guano sales allowed the formation of a stronger bourgeoisie along the coast, but when Peru lost control of the guano deposits to Chile in the War of the Pacific, this “revealed to us in tragic fashion the danger of an economic prosperity based almost exclusively on the possession of a natural resource.” (29)
Peru faced an “almost absolute collapse of the productive forces" (30) and the shattered bourgeoisie temporarily lost power to the military. However when the economy revived it did so partly on the basis of modern industry. The Panama Canal had shortened trade lines, and the new industry found itself supplying another new imperialist power: the United States.
Still, the economy remained overwhelmingly agricultural. In addition to the small-scale cultivation of the Indians, there was the semi-feudal agriculture of the coastal haciendas. The imperialist connection continued to hinder the development of bourgeoisie society:
In feudal Europe – the countryside needed the services of the town – whereas the coastal hacienda produces cotton or cane for distant markets. Once assured transport for these products, its communication with the local community only interests it secondarily.” (31)
The consequence was a weak urban bourgeoisie, unable to dominate the landowners.
Having sketched this background, Mariátegui turns to the country’s Indian population. The second chapter is devoted to a critique of various mistaken approaches.
He condemns as inadequate any attempt to protect the oppressed by merely passing laws and decrees, which are simply ignored by the dominant groups. Similarly he makes short shrift of those who argue, much like White Australia once did, that only racial assimilation can remove the difficulty. As for humanitarian teachings, they have “never held back or embarrassed imperialism” (32) while religious leaders have already proved bankrupt. Education might seem a more promising approach, but it cannot hope to challenge entrenched vested interests:
Socio-economic factors condition the teacher’s work inexorably. Gamonalismo [economic domination by large landowners - TOL] is fundamentally incompatible with the education of the Indians. Its survival depends as much on maintaining their ignorance as on cultivating their alcoholism. (33)
Thus only an economic approach can deal with the problem, and for the Indian the central economic issue is the land:
We are not content to demand the Indian’s right to education, culture, progress, love and heaven. We begin by demanding his right to the land. (34)
Feudal relations in the countryside persist despite the Latin American "revolution” (i.e. war of independence) because the revolution was not a confrontation between the bourgeoisie and the aristocracy, as it was in France, nor did it take on the dimensions of a mass struggle:
If the revolution had been a movement of the indigenous masses – it would necessarily have had an "agrarianist” physiognomy – the French revolution particularly benefited the rural class, which it had to rely on for support to avoid the return of the old regime. This phenomenon also seems to apply both to the bourgeois and the socialist revolution, to judge by – Russia. (35)
Given this blocking of Peru’s social development, Mariátegui concludes that the bourgeoisie has missed its chance to take the country forward. “I think the time for trying liberal methods has passed.” (36) He looks to the working class, but also argues for a revolutionary strategy that sees the Indian population as a force for socialism. Not only will the Indians fight for land, as the French and Russian peasants did, but the Indians still retain elements of communist consciousness from earlier times.
At the base of Inca civilisation was an “agrarian communism” that yielded economic results superior to those of colonial Peru:
Against all the reproaches which – can be made against the Inca regime – it assured the survival and growth of a population which, when the conquistadors arrived in Peru, was up to ten millions and which, in three centuries of Spanish rule, fell to one million. (37)
After the independence struggle, the urban and rural ruling classes attacked collective property, but this did not mean creating a freeholding peasantry. Rather, because of the domination of the rural elite, it simply turned out to be a means of imposing semi-feudal relations on a wider area.
Those Indians who retained their land farmed communally, while those deprived of it formed communities of whatever type they could, such as labour gangs contracting collectively. Different forms of communalism emerged:
These differences have developed not through evolution – but under the influence of laws directed at the individualisation of property – They demonstrate the vitality of indigenous communism which invariably impels the aborigines to various forms of cooperation and association. The Indian, despite the laws of a hundred years of the republic, has not become an individualist – Individualism cannot prosper, or even effectively exist, except under a regime of free competition. And the Indian has never felt less free than when he has felt alone. (38)
Such arguments remind us of the hopes held by some 19th Century revolutionaries and partly shared by Marx, that Russian peasant communes could become (in Marx’s words) “the direct starting point of the economic system toward which modern society is tending” Ð that is, socialism. (39)
The rapid development of capitalism rendered these hopes obsolete, with the Russian peasants moving decisively towards demands for private ownership of the land. However, the long-term underdevelopment of Peru’s countryside has meant that the consciousness of the rural population has retained elements of rural communism, which could be important for revolutionary strategy.
Certainly, a triumph by the working class in the cities and the creation of a collective democracy in industry is the central pre-condition for an advance towards socialism. Yet the elements of collectivism among Peruvian Indians could be an important factor in cementing an alliance between the working people of town and country. This became clear in the late 1960s when stormy struggles arose among the mountain dwellers of Peru. At that time one of their leaders, Hugo Blanco, wrote:
The communal, collective system of the ayllu [peasant commune] has, to be sure, deteriorated fundamentally in the face of advancing capitalism. Nevertheless, the ayllus maintain many communal features. Although the private ownership of plots is now generally established, the ayllu still makes efforts to prevent the sale of land to outsiders and to redistribute uncultivated land – The contribution of work is reciprocal: work is reimbursed with work (hayni). work for the common benefit is carried out collectively. The communal organisation is perserved, although every day it deteriorates more because of official regulation.
The ayllu is acquiring strength with the revolutionary upsurge; it rediscovers itself. It is possible that the ayllu will become one of the basic forms of the future workers’ and peasants’ government. (40)
If so, that government will look back on Jose Carlos Mariátegui as one of its greatest forebears
All translations are my own. In the notes below our subject is generally abbreviated “JCM”.
1. Dieso Meseguer I, JCM y su Pensamiento
Revolucionario, Lima, 1974, p. 224.
2. Jose Aricó, “Mariátegui y el Marxismo Latinoamericano", Socialismo y Participación, no 5, Lima, December 1978, p. 16.
3. Quoted in Meseguer, p. 23.
4. JCM, La Escena Contemporánea, Lima 1959, p. 18.
5. Ibid, p. 16.
6. JCM, Historia de la Crisis Mundial, Lima, 1959, p. 18.
7. Ibid, p. 16.
8. Quoted in Maria Wiese, JCM: Etapas de su Vida, Lima, 1980, p. 39.
9. Hugo Neira (ed) JCM en sus Textos, Lima, 1973, Vol. I, p. 109.
10. Guillermo Rouillon, La Creación Heroica de JCM: La Edad Revolucionaria, Lima, 1984, p. 433.
11. Aricó, p. 25.
12. Josep Ferrer, “Un Original Marxismo Americano", Hacer, Madrid, 20 March 1989.
13. Quoted in Mesequer, op cit, p. 17.
14. Quoted in ibid, p. 224.
15. Quoted in Wiese, p. 55.
16. JCM, Historia de la Crisis Mundial, p. 188.
17. JCM, Defensa del Marxismo, Lima, 1981, p. 223.
18. V. I. Lenin, quoted in John Daniels (ed) Extracts from Lenin’s Philosophical Notebooks, Nottingham, n.d.
19. JCM en su Textos, Vol I, p. 114.
20. JCM, Defensa del Marxismo, p. 22-23.
21. Ibid, p. 31.
22. Ibid, p. 27.
23. Ibid, p. 67.
24. Ibid, p. 105.
25. Ibid, p. 59.
26. JCM en sus Textos, Vol II, p. 72-3.
27. JCM, Siete Ensayos de Interpretación de la Realidad Peruana, Lima, 1984, p. 14.
28. Ibid, p. 17.
29. Ibid, p. 23.
30. Ibid, p. 24.
31. Ibid. p. 31.
32. Ibid, p. 41.
33. Ibid, p. 43.
34. Ibid, p. 50.
35. Ibid, p. 66.
36. Ibid. p. 52.
37. Ibid, p. 55.
38. Ibid, p. 83.
39. Quoted in Hal Draper, Karl Marx’s Theory of Revolution, Vol. II, The Politics of Social Classes, New York, 1978, p. 432.
40. Hugo Blanco, Land or Death: The Peasant Struggle in Peru, New York, 1972, p. 28.