Leon Rosselson 1991
In 1991, the Soviet Union’s state system collapsed, sending the global Communist movement into dramatic decline. The very idea of Communism was seen to have failed, and the notion that lasting progress could be won for the working classes around the world was rocked to its foundation. Rosselson writes that his father died just before the collapse; “This is for those whose lives were lit by much burning faith, guided by such absolute conviction that they must now be desolated by the way history seems to have reversed itself. Gone was the comradeship shared by those who never lost their belief that, despite the deceptions, the disappointments and the defeats, their dream of a more just and humane society would ultimately triumph.”ÿ
Nancy Kerr: https://nancykerr.bandcamp.com/track/song-of-the-old-communist
https://nancykerr.bandcamp.com/track/song-of-the-old-communist
He was one of those dogged old men Who lived in the past, telling stories you don’t want to know About how it was then, the hunger, the hardship The hopes and the struggles of so long ago And we must have looked bored, for like sparks from the cinders His eyes glowed with anger, his words seemed to burn He said, “I will be heard, for my life is not over- I’ve something to say yet, and you’ve something to learn” He said, “You, who have nothing at all to believe in Oh you, whose motto is ‘money comes first,’ Who are you to tell us that our lives have been wasted And all that we fought for has turned into dust?” I was only a lad, when we read that in Russia The workers, the Soviets, had taken all power And the man they called Lenin, who led them, was our inspiration His triumph was our finest hour And I’ll always remember how fear shook the wealthy Like thieves who have just been caught out in their crime But we, who had known only war and the workhouse Rejoiced, as a new world was born at that time You can’t know what it meant, and the pride that we felt To know working people, people like us Could shake off the shackles, could topple the palaces Remake the world without ruler or boss It was this kept us going, this dream of a new world Through all those dark years of defeat and despair When we who were proud to proclaim ourselves communists Fought for that world free from hunger and fear It was down with the means test, no cuts in our wages We want three pounds a week and the seven hour day! And there wasn’t a thing that we got, but we fought for it Don’t you know bosses give nothing away? And the strikes and the marches, the battles to beat off The bailiffs and coppers when hope was still young Hot heads and hot hearts, as we tested our power “The workers triumphant!” – that was our song For a time, he was silent, and lost in his memories Then, but more softly, his words came again – Perhaps we hoped for too much, perhaps the cost was too much There are things I know now that I couldn’t know then We believed revolution was just round the corner And we were the vanguard to bring it about And the other left parties we classed as class traitors Bourgeois social fascists, of that we no doubt! And then the times changed, we campaigned for the popular front The old line might never have been But we led the workers in combating fascism Mosley in London and Franco in Spain We believed we were history’s chosen And Soviet Russia, our future, our heart and our soul And the Five Year Plan was a vision of plenty For us who’d lived half of our lives on the dole We knew of the trials and purges of course And were shocked when we heard those old comrades confess But, yes, we defended the first worker’s state In the face of the slander and lies of the press He said, “You, who have nothing at all to believe in Oh you, whose motto is ‘money comes first,’ Who are you to tell us that our lives have been wasted And all that we fought for has turned into dust?” You may think we were duped, well we paid for our dreams- Broken lives, broken marriages, jobs lost and jail Some lost heart in the Left, some betrayed us for medals There are always some turncoats whose souls are for sale But the best of us never surrendered our vision And we kept the faith through the bleakest defeat Do you think that was easy, surrounded by hatred The sneer of indifference, the hurt of deceit? And our lives were made rich by the cause that we fought for The friendship the fellowship, sharing one aim To transform society, end exploitation And that day will come yet, but not in my time And again he was silent, and what could we tell him? That the world now was different, that he’d had his day? That an old man’s dreams were not our concern? But still, there was something he wanted to say- Now when I look back, I see what we fought against- Homelessness, hunger, injustice and war But what did we fight for? What dream did we strive for? I used to know once, now I’m no longer sure He said, “You, who have nothing at all to believe in Oh you, whose motto is ‘money comes first,’ Who are you to tell us that our lives have been wasted And all that we fought for has turned into dust?”