Part I
Situating the Centre
Chapter 1
The Lost World of Cultural Studies, 1956â1971
An Intellectual History
Dennis Dworkin
The best-known achievements of the Centre for Contemporary Cultural Studies (CCCS) at the University of Birmingham are from the 1970s and early 1980s. They draw on the cultural Marxist tradition of E. P. Thompson and Raymond Williams; the Western Marxism of Antonio Gramsci and Louis Althusser; and multiple strands of feminist and critical race theory. Yet, when the Centre was founded in 1964, these later developments were by no means preordained. Indeed, browsing through the annual reports and pamphlets that chart the Centreâs early history, I am struck by just how distant the world in which the Centre originated now seems. Many of the intellectual sources on which it relied no longer inform current debates and discussions. Rather than names such as Foucault and Spivak, Said and Bhabha, Butler and Zizek, we encounter Leavis and Eliot (the latter not as a poet but as a cultural critic), Weber and Riesman, and Berger and Luckmann. Of the pioneering influences on cultural studies, perhaps only Raymond Williams is still cited in contemporary discussions.
The word âlostâ in the title of my essay therefore does not refer to the retrieval of a narrative that has been buried and recovered.1 Rather, it seeks to recapture an intellectual and political world that has largely disappeared. The essay consists of three parts. First, I provide a rough sketch of the Centreâs origins and early formation. I stress the ideas on which it was founded, emphasizing its connection to the milieu of adult education and the early New Left of the 1950s and early 1960s. Second, I discuss the founding of the Centre in 1964, its original goals and aspirations, and its early intellectual trajectory. Third, I analyse the transformation of the cultural studies project in the late-1960s and early-1970s, focusing on the impact of 1968 and its associated meanings on the Centreâs students and faculty. Here, I draw on new sources that have recently emerged, including interviews. As a result of the tumultuous experience of the late-1960s, and numerous contentious debates and internal struggles, Centre researchers acquired new theoretical vocabularies, thought about cultural practices in fresh ways and explored collective modes of work.
In 1964, Eric Hobsbawm reviewed Stuart Hall and Paddy Whannelâs The Popular Arts (1964) for the Times Literary Supplement. He described what constituted cultural studies the year in which the Centre opened. âBritish criticism in the fieldâ, wrote Hobsbawm, âhas long been the virtual monopoly of the local New Left: that is to say, it reflects a lot of Leavis (but without the Leavisite rejection of post-industrial culture), a much smaller quantity of Marx, a good deal of nostalgia for âworking class cultureâ, a pervasive passion for democracy, a strong pedagogic urge and an equally strong urge to do goodâ.2
Hobsbawm captured critical elements of early cultural studies: its debt to Leavisite criticism, its ambivalent relationship to Marx and Marxism, and its connection to the early New Left. His allusion to its ânostalgiaâ for working-class culture and a âstrong pedagogic urgeâ was less straightforward. He was likely referring to texts such as Richard Hoggartâs The Uses of Literacy (1957) and Raymond Williamsâs Culture and Society (1958) and The Long Revolution (1961), which portrayed working-class values nostalgically. They helped define the terrain of cultural studies and the cultural politics of the New Left, but their ideas developed in the older intellectual and political milieu of workersâ and adult education.
Williams perhaps best summed up the dual influence of Leavis and Marxism for cultural studies: âLeavis has never liked Marxists, which is in one way a pity, for they know more than he does about modern English society, and about its immediate history. He, on the other hand, knows more than any Marxist I have met about the real relations between art and experienceâ.3 F. R. Leavis was an influential literary and cultural critic, particularly during the interwar years and the following decade. He viewed criticism as an aesthetic and moral practice based on the stringent training of oneâs sensibility and the close reading of texts. Critics were to bring the âplay of the free intelligenceâ to bear upon âthe underlying issuesâ of the modern world. He saw them as being in the avant-garde of cultural renewal, necessitated by a spreading and corrosive mass culture. Early contributors to cultural studies â including Hall, Hoggart and Williams â rejected Leavisâs blanket dismissal of mass culture but embraced his wide-ranging interests and his reliance on the close reading of texts. Indeed, Hallâs initial definition of socialist humanism in the New Left journal Universities and Left Review (ULR) appropriated a quote from Leavis: âa vital capacity for experience, a kind of reverent openness before life, and a marked intensityâ.4
As Hobsbawm implied and Williams reiterated, there is an ambivalent relationship between early cultural studies and Marxism. Marxismâs contention that the class relationships of modern capitalism provide the general context in which cultural practices are shaped was generally accepted. Deterministic versions of that relationship, notably mechanical and deterministic deployments of the base/superstructure model, were not. Here, Williamsâs influential chapter on âMarxism and Cultureâ in Culture and Society is illustrative of this viewpoint. He accepted base/superstructure insofar as it meant viewing cultural practices in a wider context. Yet he found the model to be static and believed that it was incompatible with the totalizing and dynamic impulse of Marxâs overall historical analysis. He argued that Engelsâs critique (in letters written in the latter part of his life) of its formulaic deployment by those calling themselves Marxists had long ago highlighted its limits. Williams did not reject Marxism: he viewed its existing form as inadequate to either grasp the specificity of cultural practices or grapple with cultureâs reciprocal impact on social and economic relations. In a now-famous formulation, Williams argued, âIt would seem that from their emphasis on the interdependence of all elements in social reality, and from their analytic emphasis on movement and change, Marxists should logically use âcultureâ in the sense of a whole way of life, a general social processâ.5
Williamsâs thinking here is creative and innovative yet also a product of its time. First, it is symptomatic of the Cold War milieu in which he thought and wrote that when he did use Marxist concepts, he felt compelled to rework and disguise them, employing terms such as the âsystem of economic lifeâ rather than the âmode of productionâ. Otherwise, he would have been summarily dismissed. Second, Williamsâs critique of Marxist cultural theory was largely aimed at English Communist critics, who, in his view, had failed to resolve the conflicts arising from their commitments to English romantic criticism, Marxist theory and Communist Party membership. In contrast with Williamsâs later, more memorable engagement with Western Marxist thinkers such as Antonio Gramsci, Lucien Goldman and György LukĂĄcs, his original encounter took place within a distinctly national intellectual milieu largely bereft of innovative Marxist cultural criticism. The same could be said for early cultural studies more generally.
When Hobsbawm wrote his review, cultural studies occupied a hazily defined space on the intellectual map, a product of debates and discussions that took place in and around the late 1950s and early 1960s New Left. The New Left emerged from the experience of the Suez and Hungary crises in 1956 and grew and expanded as a result of a shared commitment to the nuclear disarmament movement of the late-1950s and early-1960s. It consisted of two groups, although there was an overlap between them. The Reasoner group, creators of the Reasoner and subsequently the New Reasoner, was mostly composed of ex-Communists, predominantly from the interwar generation. ULR was created by a group of Oxford students who wanted to create a discussion that would lead to a new kind of socialist politics, one that addressed the momentous transformations in post-war British society. What was ânewâ about the first New Left was that it represented a third way: it rejected both the politics of the Labour and Communist parties in their existing forms. In 1960, New Left Review (NLR) supplanted the two journals. Despite their diverse origins and distinctive, sometime conflicting, interests, the political perspectives of the two groups were converging. âCultureâ was central to their politics.
The New Left came into existence at a time of Cold War polarities, Conservative Party triumph and widespread political apathy. The major question it faced, like the Left more generally, was not only returning the Labour Party to office but also re-energizing it with a socialist agenda in tune with the rapidly changing times â the result of full employment, steadily growing income, signs of class mobility and spreading mass culture. New Left activists were critical of orthodox leftists who remained committed to traditional notions of the class struggle and narrow views of politics. They also chided âlabor revisionistsâ, such as C. A. R. Crosland, for believing that the mixed economy and the welfare state created the foundation of a post-capitalist society that obsoleted class politics. Various New Left writers analysed the consequences of the reshaping of working-class consciousness and culture, laying the groundwork for the more academic discussions that took place later at the Centre. Overall, they insisted upon the resilience of working-class culture, while condemning the growing impact of Americanization. Indeed, New Left activists were ambivalent about the United States. On the one hand, they viewed the impact of American mass culture as a threat to workin...