Memories of Tony Cliff

R.F. Kampfer

IT’S BEEN ABOUT 30 years since I met Tony Cliff, the leader of what was then called the International Socialism group in Britain, back before I borrowed a Party name from the rotefrontkampferbund.  I was recently out of the Army, and touring the Socialist Youth groups of Europe.  A note signed by Kim Moody, identifying me as a member of the Independent Socialists, was good anywhere for potluck, a couch, and a long political discussion.

I’d been reading Tony Cliff since 1962, and was looking forward to meeting him when I got to London.  Along with Hal Draper and Max Shachtman, he was among the few Marxist writers whose work was a pleasure, as well as a duty, to read. He combined encyclopedic knowledge with razor-sharp insight, and a wicked sense of humor.

Most of the articles of his that I’d read had been about recent struggles in the British labor movement.  His accounts were so vivid that I assumed he was a young British worker, something like Albert Finney in “Saturday Night and Sunday Morning.”

When I found my way to his house that night (the London bus system seems designed to mislead German paratroopers), I was surprised to find an old man (younger than I am now, in fact) with a houseful of children and a Yiddish-British accent that Benny Hill would have a hard time imitating.

Due to a failure of communication from the IS office, he hadn’t known that I was coming over, but he showed no surprise at finding a scruffy young American on his doorstep.  Chanie brought me a cup of tea, and while the kids watched “Dr. Strangelove” on TV, we talked about everything from class-consciousness in the U.S. Army, to the role of the no-strike pledge in enabling the post-war purge of the Communist Party from the CIO.

Despite the vast difference in our movement seniority, it felt like he was genuinely interested in everything I had to say. I got the feeling that every fact and opinion was mentally evaluated, cross-indexed, and filed away for future reference.

Even when I disagreed with him, saying that waging an ideological war against unredeemable sectlets was a waste of time and resources that could better be devoted to trade union work, he remained patient and polite.

I never got back to London.  Even though organizations diverged, I always remembered Tony Cliff with admiration and affection.  He’s gone now, but his work lives on, and will be an inspiration to generations yet to come.

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R.F. Kampfer’s Random Shots column appears regularly in Against the Current.  In real life, the author is a veteran socialist, an auto worker, rank and file activist and a member of Solidarity.

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