Introduction

The debate on China’s socialist market economy is not a debate in the proper sense. It is an impasse. Two positions confront each other across a shared theoretical deficit, and the confrontation has been productive of heat rather than light for decades. The campist position derives China’s socialist character from public ownership and party intent. The state-capitalist position derives its capitalist character from the presence of exploitation and market competition. Neither position has a theory of the state. Neither takes seriously what markets produce as social relations. The terms of the debate have remained stable because neither camp is equipped to move beyond them.

Theryn Arnold’s article "Toward a Marxist State Theory of the Socialist Market Economy" is the most serious attempt to break this impasse that has appeared on the Anglophone Marxist left in some time. Its intellectual ambition is genuine. Its engagement with Ollman, Jessop, and the developmental state literature is sophisticated. Its diagnosis of shared instrumentalism across the dominant positions is correct. Arnold is right that both campism and state-capitalism treat the state as a tool pointed in different directions rather than as a specific historical form with its own structural logic, and he is right that neither grapples seriously with what markets produce as social relations.

The argument that follows concedes all of this. It then argues that Arnold reproduces the instrumentalism he correctly diagnoses in the dominant positions, at a theoretical register high enough that the repetition is difficult to see. The sophistication of the framework is not incidental. It is what makes the article’s failure consequential rather than merely another contribution to an exhausted debate.

Two failures are central. First, Arnold operates with a category — “socialist state form” — that is borrowed from CPC self-description and reinserted into a framework ostensibly designed to subject that self-description to structural analysis. The Poulantzas and Jessop invocations do not ground the category; they dress it in the language of Marxist state theory^[1] without performing the determination the theory requires. Second, Arnold conducts state theory without class composition. The Jessop framework he deploys requires knowing what class forces contest the institutional terrain and with what organisational capacities. This is a class composition question. Arnold’s framework cannot ask it.

These are not peripheral failures. They determine what Arnold’s political conclusion, critical solidarity without illusions, actually amounts to, and what it conceals.

I. What Arnold Gets Right

Serious polemic begins with concession. Arnold earns several.

The Ollman deployment is correct, and its implications are properly drawn.^[2] The market mystification framework establishes that markets are not neutral allocative mechanisms but social relations that produce specific ideological effects through daily participation in buying and selling. These effects, the atomisation of buyers and sellers, the naturalisation of competition, and the occlusion of production and the class relations it embeds, all operate through experience rather than propaganda. They are reproduced by people’s actual conduct in the market, regardless of who owns the enterprises involved. The capital-as-relation argument follows: ownership transfer to the state does not dissolve capital-as-relation if market imperatives remain operative. Arnold applies both arguments correctly against the SME affirmation tradition. Liu Guoguang’s normative account of the SME cannot answer Ollman’s structural argument, and Arnold is right to say so.

The critique of developmentalism is equally sharp. Wade’s “governing the market” framework is liberal institutionalism.^[3] State capacity is treated as a politically neutral variable that can be increased or decreased independently of the class relations that produced it and that it reproduces. The class content of development: accumulation for whom, under what conditions, who bears the costs, is evacuated from the analysis. China becomes the latest and most successful developmental state; the socialist question is not answered but dissolved. Arnold identifies this as a distinct theoretical failure rather than collapsing it into either of the dominant left positions, which is the correct move.

The distinction between state-market relations and state-capital relations is a genuine analytical contribution. Developmental accounts analyse the former without engaging the latter. State-capitalist accounts identify the latter without specifying the former. Holding the two analytically distinct is the precondition for asking the right questions about the SME. Neither camp makes this distinction. Arnold does.

The shared instrumentalism diagnosis is correct. The campist position treats the state as an instrument wielded for socialism. The state-capitalist position treats it as a transmission belt for capital. The developmentalist position treats it as a technocratic agent managing market outcomes. None of them asks what the state is in Marxist terms: what specific historical form it takes, what structural pressures its own reproduction generates, and how those pressures interact with the class forces that contest it. Arnold’s identification of this shared deficit is the most important contribution the article makes.

These are real achievements. The article is the most advanced version of the position it represents. That is why the failure at its centre matters.

II. The Ungrounded Category

Arnold’s argument depends on a category he never grounds: “socialist state form.” The article’s central thesis is that the SME is a contradictory configuration in which socialist state form and capitalist market relations are in structural tension. Remove this category, and the thesis collapses. The SME becomes simply a configuration in which market relations generate structural pressures on a state whose class character remains undetermined, which is not a thesis but an absence of one.

The Poulantzas and Jessop invocations are the crucial moves. Arnold deploys Jessop’s strategic-relational approach^[4] to demonstrate that state institutions are structured terrains that favour certain actors, interests, and strategies over others: that strategic selectivities are built into the institutional form of the state and produce tendencies in state action that can be contested through class struggle. He deploys the condensation framework to show that the state is a condensation of class forces in struggle rather than an instrument of a unified ruling class.^[5] These are correct deployments. But neither framework entails that the Chinese party-state has a “socialist” form. They entail that the Chinese party-state has a determinate class character that must be established through structural analysis. Arnold performs this analysis against the campist and state-capitalist positions. He does not perform it against his own.

The condensation thesis requires asking what class forces the Chinese state’s specific institutional configuration structurally favours. Not what it intends. Not what ownership forms dominate. Not what goals are officially declared. What class forces does it condense? What interests are structurally selected by its institutional configuration? What tendencies in state action does it produce regardless of the intentions of those who administer it?

Arnold does not ask these questions in relation to the category his own conclusion depends on. He asks them, effectively, against campism: the structural pressures market relations introduce into party-state governance operate regardless of CPC intent. This is the correct application of the framework. He does not apply it against the presupposition that the state form is socialist.

The reason is visible in the article’s movement. Arnold’s procedure is to take the most sophisticated version of the SME affirmation tradition, Liu Guoguang’s theoretical synthesis,^[6] establish its limits (normative rather than structural), and then replace its normative account with a structural one while retaining its central conclusion. The Chinese party-state’s institutional form is socialist; the question is what structural pressures capitalist market relations introduce into that form. But “socialist state form” in Arnold’s structural account does the same work it does in Liu’s normative account: it names the class character of the Chinese state by reference to the political project of those who administer it. The translation into the language of Marxist state theory does not change the derivation.

Jessop’s strategic selectivities, applied without concession, generate a different question. The Chinese party-state has undergone four decades of integration into global capitalism. Its fiscal revenues depend substantially on accumulation. Its industrial competitiveness depends on labour productivity. Specific class interests have crystallised around the party-state apparatus in ways that are not reducible to administrative function. The class fraction that has emerged around the fusion of political and economic power in the party-state is not an ideological construction of the CPC’s critics. It is a structural product of the SME itself. What does this imply about what the Chinese state condenses? Arnold’s framework is well-equipped to ask this question. The article does not ask it.

What Arnold produces is a structural account of market relations in the SME and an institutional account of the party-state’s capacities. These are not the same as a structural account of the party-state’s class character. The distinction matters because the political conclusions Arnold draws depend on the second. “Socialist state form” is carrying analytical weight the article’s argument has not earned for it.

III. State Theory Without Class Composition

The failure to ground “socialist state form” is a symptom of a methodological failure that runs deeper. Arnold conducts state theory without class composition. This is not a gap in the analysis that could be filled by adding a section on Chinese workers. It is a structural incompleteness that determines what the framework can and cannot do.

Jessop’s strategic-relational approach establishes that state institutions favour certain actors over others. The selectivities are built into the institutional form of the state. But selectivities are not free-standing structural tendencies; they favour specific class actors with specific capacities for organisation and action. Without knowing what those actors and capacities are — without knowing the actual class forces that contest the terrain — the strategic-relational framework identifies tendencies in the abstract. It specifies that the terrain is uneven without specifying who stands where on it, and with what organisational capacity to move.

Class composition analysis provides this ground.^[7] Technical composition is the organisation of labour in the production process: the division of labour, the technological form of the labour process, and the specific ways labour power is deployed in production. Political composition is the capacity for collective organisation and struggle that emerges from technical composition: not automatically, not mechanically, but as a real possibility determined by the specific forms of combination and fragmentation the labour process produces. The relationship between the two is not identity. Technical composition does not produce political composition directly. But technical composition sets the parameters within which political composition develops, and political composition is what gives class struggle its specific forms at any historical conjuncture.

State theory requires class composition analysis because the state condenses class forces. The condensation thesis is not a description of an abstract structural relationship between the state and capital-in-general. It is a claim about what specific class forces, with what specific organisational capacities, are present in the condensation at a given historical moment. The Chinese party-state’s structural selectivities favour specific class actors. Identifying those actors, and understanding why those actors and not others are favoured, requires knowing what the SME has produced at the level of class formation.

Arnold’s framework operates at the level of institutional analysis. It identifies ownership forms, planning capacities, fiscal dependencies, and state-enterprise governance structures. These are real features of the SME. But they are features of the institutional shell of the state, not of the class relations the state condenses. The SME’s specific institutional configuration is a product of class struggle as well as a mechanism of its reproduction. Understanding what it is requires understanding both.

The result of conducting state theory without class composition is visible in Arnold’s argument. The Chinese party-state appears in the analysis as an institutional actor with specific capacities: the ability to direct industrial policy, to insulate strategic sectors from short-term profitability, and to deploy development finance without liberal market constraints. These capacities are real. But they float free of the class analysis that would determine what they are capacities for, and in whose interest they are exercised. Arnold notes that state-owned enterprise governance, development finance, and five-year planning produce different outcomes from liberal market states. He does not ask which class forces produced these institutional arrangements, which class forces they reproduce, and which class forces bear the costs.

This is not a minor omission. It is the question historical materialism requires asking of any institutional configuration. The minimum the tradition demands of itself is to apply its method without exception.

IV. The Chinese Working Class After the SME

The investigation Arnold’s framework cannot conduct is not beyond reach. Its outlines are visible in the compositional reality the SME has produced. That reality is not neutral evidence awaiting interpretation. Each of its principal features points in the same direction: the Chinese party-state’s strategic selectivities systematically disfavour the class whose interests a socialist state would structurally favour. This is what “socialist state form” needs to be measured against. It is the measurement Arnold’s framework refuses.

The hukou household registration system is the most significant mechanism of compositional fragmentation the SME has generated and actively reproduced. The migrant working class, estimated at over 300 million workers,^[8] the largest single stratum of the Chinese working class, is subject to a system that ties social rights, welfare provision, and access to urban services to registration in the worker’s place of origin rather than place of work. The migrant worker in Shenzhen or Shanghai has no claim on the social provision of the city in which they work and live. Their children cannot attend local schools. Their access to healthcare is circumscribed. They are, in structural terms, a stratum with the technical composition of an urban proletariat and the political composition of a population systematically excluded from the civic and welfare structures that would provide the organisational basis for urban class politics. Reforms have been announced repeatedly. Structural transformation has not followed. The hukou system has been adapted and extended to manage the specific form of fragmentation the SME requires. A workers’ state has no need of this mechanism. Its active reproduction is not a policy anomaly or an ideological contradiction to be managed over time. It is direct evidence of where the party-state’s strategic selectivities fall when the interests of the migrant working class and the interests of the accumulation regime conflict.

Platform labour has produced a new compositional stratum whose relationship to the party-state makes the same point from a different angle. Meituan, Didi, and the broader platform economy have generated a form of labour process control exercised through the algorithm rather than direct supervision. The delivery worker and the ride-share driver are formally self-employed. The fiction of the independent contractor performs the same ideological work in China as it does in Britain or the United States: it dissolves the employment relation while preserving its substance. The party-state’s response to platform labour has been instructive. Regulatory interventions have targeted data security and platform monopoly power, the interests of accumulation management, not the wage theft, algorithmic discipline, and organisational suppression that define the platform worker’s experience. The 2021 delivery worker strikes and the broader pattern of wildcat action in platform labour demonstrate that the political composition of this stratum is not simply the fragmentation its technical composition produces. The party-state’s selective regulatory attention demonstrates something else: which contradictions of platform capitalism the state moves to manage, and which it permits to persist.

The class crystallised around the party-state apparatus itself is a structural product of the SME that Arnold’s framework identifies but does not follow through. The fusion of political and economic power in the party-state has produced a class fraction whose interests are bound up with the specific institutional form of the party-state. This fraction is not reducible to the CPC bureaucracy. It encompasses the state-enterprise managerial class, the development finance networks, and the patronage structures that connect political position to economic advantage across four decades of reform. Its interests diverge from capital-in-general in specific ways, which is why the party-state pursues policies that pure market logic would not dictate. But they are not socialist interests. The institutional insulation of strategic sectors from short-term profitability that Arnold correctly identifies as a genuine party-state capacity is simultaneously an arrangement that protects the accumulation regime from which this fraction benefits. The strategic selectivity that produces real planning capacity is the same selectivity that serves a specific class fraction’s stake in the party-state’s institutional form.

China’s structural position in global accumulation circuits closes the primary argument. The workshop of the world specifies China’s integration into global value chains in ways that impose accumulation imperatives on the party-state regardless of its intentions. The wage regimes that sustain China’s competitive position in global circuits, the labour discipline those regimes require, and the organisational suppression that sustains that discipline are not contingent policy features. They are conditions of the specific form of global integration the SME produced and that the party-state’s reproduction now depends on. The costs of maintaining that competitive position fall structurally on the Chinese working class.

The common prosperity campaign and the tensions between accumulation imperatives and social provision that have marked the Xi period require acknowledgment here.^[9] They are real features of the SME’s contradictions and not simply ideological decoration. The anti-monopoly interventions of 2021 and 2022, the regulatory pressure on private tech capital, the rhetorical insistence on shared prosperity — these indicate genuine tensions within the party-state’s strategic orientation rather than a seamless reproduction of accumulation interests. A fully adequate compositional analysis would need to account for them. What they do not establish is that the party-state’s strategic selectivities have shifted in favour of the Chinese working class as a class. The common prosperity campaign is a response to the political consequences of extreme inequality — a stability management intervention — not a structural reorientation of whose interests the party-state condenses. The tension between accumulation imperatives and social provision is real; the resolution of that tension, in each instance, has favoured the conditions of accumulation over the organisational capacities of the class that bears its costs.

The cumulative argument does not produce a finalised determination of the Chinese state’s class character. The compositional evidence points consistently in one direction: the party-state’s strategic selectivities, traced through what the SME has produced over four decades, do not structurally favour the Chinese working class. That is a more determinate result than Arnold’s framework delivers. It is also a partial one, and it should be held as such: as the outlines of a determination, not its completion. What it establishes with sufficient precision is that “socialist state form” cannot be sustained as an analytical category on the basis of the available compositional evidence. The category is doing theoretical work that the analysis has not earned for it.

V. The Deferral as Theoretical Failure

Arnold presents the transitional question as empirically open: is the SME a form in which socialist institutional capacities are progressively constraining market relations, or are accumulation imperatives progressively subsuming the party-state’s own reproduction? This is framed as methodological rigour: a question that cannot be answered in advance but that the Marxist state theory framework is positioned to investigate.

The framing conceals a prior theoretical failure. The transitional framework only runs if the state doing the transitioning has already been determined to have a specific class character. Without that determination, “transitional form” is a container without content. Transitional toward what? From what? On whose behalf? These are not questions the empirical investigation will answer. They are the presuppositions without which no empirical investigation of the transitional question can be formulated.

Lenin’s NEP is the historical model Arnold invokes.^[10] The NEP was a strategic retreat from war communism under conditions of economic devastation and peasant resistance. Lenin’s analysis treated it as a transitional form in a specific and determinate sense: the Soviet state was a workers’ state, the bourgeois state apparatus had been destroyed, and the specific class forces October had placed in the commanding position gave content to the transitional framework. The question of whether the NEP’s market relations were being progressively constrained by expanding socialist institutional capacities was meaningful because the class character of the state constraining them had been established. Remove that determination, and the transitional framework collapses.

But the NEP example does not establish that such determinations are straightforward. The Soviet state’s class character became the object of sustained and unresolved theoretical dispute within the Marxist tradition from at least 1923 onward. Trotsky’s degenerated workers’ state thesis,^[11] the state-capitalist analyses of Dunayevskaya, James, and Cliff,^[12] and the bureaucratic collectivism thesis of Burnham and Shachtman^[13] represent not a failure of the tradition but its most serious attempt to grapple with exactly the questions Arnold’s transitional framework raises: what happens to a workers’ state when specific class forces crystallise around the state apparatus, when market relations are reintroduced under party supervision, when the gap between declared political project and structural class reality widens? These debates did not end in consensus. They ended in determinate and contested positions: Trotsky held the degenerated workers’ state thesis against the evidence of the purges and the Molotov-Ribbentrop pact; Cliff broke from it on the grounds that a workers’ state could not sustain arms competition with Western capital without becoming structurally indistinguishable from it. Both positions were determinations, held with different degrees of confidence against genuinely difficult evidence.

This history bears directly on Arnold’s argument in two ways. First, it confirms the critique’s central point: the NEP parallel presupposes what it needs to establish, and the Marxist tradition’s most serious engagement with this presupposition produced not comfortable agreement but decades of contested determination. The appropriate response to the difficulty of the SME question is not methodological suspension but the kind of rigorous and revisable determination the Trotsky-Cliff debate models, however uncomfortable its conclusions. Second, it complicates the critique’s own position. The compositional evidence marshalled in section IV points consistently in one direction. It does not produce the kind of decisive determination that would have settled the degenerated workers’ state debate, had such evidence been available in 1940. Determinations made under conditions of genuine analytical difficulty are partial and provisional. The tradition demands they be made nonetheless: held as determinations rather than suspended as open questions, revised when the evidence requires it, but never deferred on the grounds that the evidence is complex.

Arnold’s methodological suspension is not, therefore, what the NEP example warrants. What the NEP example warrants is harder: the recognition that determining the class character of a transitional or post-revolutionary state is among the most difficult problems the Marxist tradition has faced, that it has generated the tradition’s most serious theoretical controversies, and that those controversies were conducted through the production of contested determinations rather than through the principled refusal to determine. “This cannot be answered in advance” is not the lesson the tradition draws from its engagement with the Soviet question. The lesson is that it must be answered, under difficulty, with appropriate epistemic humility, and revised as the analysis develops. The deferral Arnold performs is not methodological caution. It is the refusal of the tradition’s actual practice when confronted with its hardest cases.

VI. Critical Solidarity as Political Posture

“Critical solidarity without illusions” names a posture. It specifies how the analyst should orient herself toward a situation she cannot determine. “Critical” modifies the solidarity; it does not replace it. “Without illusions” specifies an emotional register: clear-eyed, unsentimental, resistant to both campist enthusiasm and state-capitalist dismissiveness. What it does not specify is what follows politically from the analysis Arnold has developed.

Arnold is aware of a version of this charge and moves to pre-empt it. He distinguishes solidarity at the level of geopolitical antagonism — resisting the ideological offensives of Western imperialism against China — from solidarity with the CPC’s project. The first does not entail the second. Criticising the structural contradictions the SME generates for Chinese workers is compatible with resisting the specific ideological uses to which those criticisms are put by Western imperialism. This is a real distinction and it should be acknowledged. The problem is not that Arnold fails to make it. The problem is that the distinction cannot be sustained without the prior class determination he has refused to make.

Geopolitical solidarity that is analytically separable from solidarity with a specific state project requires knowing what that state project is: which class forces it condenses, which interests its strategic selectivities serve, what its relationship to the class whose emancipation socialism names actually amounts to. Without that determination, the distinction between the two levels of solidarity is analytical in form but collapses in practice. The question “should socialists in Britain resist Western imperialism’s ideological offensive against China” cannot be answered without some account of what China is: not as a geopolitical actor, but as a class formation. If the answer to the class question is that the Chinese party-state condenses a specific class fraction’s interests against the Chinese working class, then the geopolitical antagonism between China and the United States is not an antagonism between socialism and imperialism. It is an antagonism between two configurations of capital. Solidarity oriented by the former characterisation and solidarity oriented by the latter are not the same politics, whatever the analytical care with which their levels are distinguished.

Arnold’s “critical solidarity without illusions” is therefore not rescued by the distinction he draws. It inherits the instability of the undetermined class question and transmits it to the political level. Where the structural determination is refused, the geopolitical frame fills the practical political gap, not as a crude assertion that China’s anti-imperialism settles its socialist character, but as the only available basis for orientation once the class determination has been suspended. The critical distance Arnold establishes from campism at the theoretical level does not survive to the political level because the theoretical work that would sustain it has not been done.

Anti-imperialism is not anti-capitalism. Anti-capitalism requires a determination of class character that geopolitical positioning cannot substitute for. The question of what the Chinese party-state is — whose reproduction it serves, which class forces it condenses — is a class question. It is answered by the kind of compositional and structural analysis this article has attempted to advance. “Critical solidarity without illusions” is what fills the space that answer would otherwise occupy.

Conclusion

Historical materialism is not a method that applies itself selectively. The tradition that holds bourgeois political economy to the standard of structural determination, that insists on tracing ideological categories back to the class relations they express and conceal, that demands analysis of what actually exists rather than what is declared or intended: this tradition must apply the same standard to itself. The minimum it demands of itself is what it demands of everything else.

Arnold’s article is the best available version of a position that fails this demand at its centre. The failure is not one of theoretical ambition or analytical sophistication. It is a failure of application. The framework Arnold develops is capable of generating the determination the argument requires. The determination is refused, dressed as methodological caution, and replaced with an orientation — critical, unsentimental, and without illusions — that preserves the comfort of indeterminacy while performing the rigour of analysis. Historical materialism is not a vocabulary of determination. It is determination itself. The tradition that mistakes the former for the latter has learned to speak the method without practising it.

The SME question is not uniquely difficult. Every serious application of the condensation thesis to a specific state formation involves contested evidence, incomplete compositional data, and genuine analytical difficulty. The difficulty is not a reason to defer. It is the condition under which materialist analysis has always operated and against which it has always measured itself. What Arnold’s framework produces when its deferral is removed, and its categories are applied without presupposition, are the outlines of a determination the tradition is capable of making. The party-state’s strategic selectivities, traced through the compositional reality the SME has produced, do not point toward a contradictory configuration suspended between socialist form and capitalist relation. They point toward a state whose reproduction is structurally entangled with the accumulation regime it manages, whose institutional capacities serve specific class interests, and whose relationship to the Chinese working class is not one of structural favouring. That is a determination. It is the kind of determination historical materialism exists to make.

The tradition that cannot apply its method to the questions it finds politically inconvenient is not Marxism under difficult conditions. It is something else, wearing Marxism’s vocabulary. Distinguishing between the two is what theoretical criticism is for.

1. Nicos Poulantzas, State, Power, Socialism, trans. Patrick Camiller (London: New Left Books, 1978); Bob Jessop, The State: Past, Present, Future (Cambridge: Polity, 2016).

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2. Bertell Ollman, “Market Mystification in Capitalist and Market Socialist Societies,” in Market Socialism: The Debate among Socialists, ed. Bertell Ollman and David Schweickart (New York: Routledge, 1997), 81–129.

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3. Robert Wade, Governing the Market: Economic Theory and the Role of Government in East Asian Industrialization (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2004).

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4. Jessop, The State, 47–71.

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5. Poulantzas, State, Power, Socialism. The condensation thesis holds that the state is not a thing but a relation — a specific material condensation of the balance of forces between classes and class fractions.

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6. Liu Guoguang, On the Theory of Socialist Market Economy, with Sun Weiwei (Reading: Paths International, 2021).

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7. The foundational texts of the operaismo tradition on class composition include Romano Alquati, “Organic Compositions of Capital and Labour-Power at Olivetti” (1961–62), and Mario Tronti, Workers and Capital, trans. David Broder (London: Verso, 2019). For a systematic secondary account, see Steve Wright, Storming Heaven: Class Composition and Struggle in Italian Autonomist Marxism (London: Pluto Press, 2002).

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8. National Bureau of Statistics of China, Migrant Workers Monitoring Survey Report 2023 (Beijing: NBS, 2024). The figure of approximately 300 million migrant workers has been consistent across monitoring surveys since 2018.

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9. On the 2021–22 anti-monopoly interventions, see Angela Huyue Zhang, High Wire: How China Regulates Big Tech and Governs Its Economy (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2024). On the common prosperity campaign, see Xi Jinping, “Solidly Promote Common Prosperity,” Qiushi, October 15, 2021.

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10. V.I. Lenin, “The New Economic Policy and the Tasks of the Political Education Departments,” in Collected Works, vol. 33 (Moscow: Progress Publishers, 1966), 60–79.

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11. Leon Trotsky The Revolution Betrayed. trans. Max Eastman New York :: ACLS Humanities E-Book, Ann Arbor, Michigan: MPublishing, University of Michigan Library, 2012.

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12. Raya Dunayevskaya, “The Nature of the Russian Economy,” New International 12, no. 10 (December 1946); C.L.R. James, Raya Dunayevskaya, and Grace Lee, State Capitalism and World Revolution (Chicago: Charles H. Kerr, 1986); Tony Cliff, State Capitalism in Russia (London: Pluto Press, 1974).

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13. James Burnham, The Managerial Revolution (New York: John Day, 1941); Max Shachtman, The Bureaucratic Revolution: The Rise of the Stalinist State (New York: Donald Press, 1962).

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