THE VAGUE AND CONTRADICTORY FORMULA OF ‘DEMOCRATIC centralism’ has never been understood as a static device independent of historical circumstances. Though it has been dogmatized, despite the opposition of other non-revisionist tendencies in the international labour movement such as Rosa Luxemburg and the Worker's Opposition in Russia during the 9th Party Congress in 1920, the formula always had to be reinterpreted according to the needs of different phases of class struggle. In every phase of development, the relation between the components ‘democracy‘ and ‘centralism‘ has been defined in a different way.3 Since the 3rd Party Congress centralism was considered to be the basic organizational principle of the party, whereas democracy had to be adapted to the changing circumstances and to the political conditions of different countries. Certainly Lenin was right in arguing in his pamphlet Chto delat (1902) that, under the circumstances of tsarist autocratic rule, ‘democratism’ within the party would have been ‘an empty and dangerous game’. Also the Menshevik leaders - in spite of their controversies with Lenin - still admitted at that time that a centralized and disciplined party organization was of the highest importance. Thus Schapiro is probably right when he sees little difference between Bolsheviks and Mensheviks on the question of democratic centralism at the time of the conflict in Iskra.

AT THE TIME OF WRITING (APRIL I975), THE REFERENDUM ON WHETHER or not Britain should stay in the European Communities is imminent. Originally is seemed as if the Referendum was going to be mainly about whether the terms of membership, renegotiated by the British government in fulfilment of its election pledge, were acceptable or not. However, more and more the actual terms, agreed after prolonged discussions and considerable heart-searching on all sides, seem to be fadin into the background and the central issue is revolving around the question of sovereignty and whether or not British membership of the Communities involves Britain in an unacceptable loss of it.

AS A WAY OF REACHING IMPORTANT POLITICAL DECISIONS, THE referendum is usually regarded as a clumsy and unsatisfactory instrument and quite unimportant as a contribution to political democracy. Yet widespread demands for more participation ‘by the people’ have brought the referendum into new-found favour. Interest has been rekindled too by its application to the issue of membership of the European Community, with the clear possibility of directly comparing the referenda in the four countries involved. This new interest in the referendum comes at a time when many party systems, the traditional supports of a purely parliamentary democracy, appear to be in disarray, and there are signs of increasing volatility within electorates which can foreshadow basic realignments in party systems. Questions now are naturally being raised about the future ordering of democratic politics, and for this reason it seems justifiable to focus an examination of the referendum especially on the problem of political change.

ONE CONTINUING CHARACTERISTIC OF GERMAN POLITICAL STYLE IS A ‘politics of fear’ which is propagated by both Left and Right. The Extra Parliamentary Opposition's anxieties about the neo-fascist potential in the political system are complemented by the campaign of the Springer press against totalitarian extremists of the Left. Fear is of course not necessarily unfounded in a regime which at its foundation was regarded as only ‘provisional’ and which has had every reason to fear its enemies after its experience of reactionary conservatism and Nazism and now of developments in the German Democratic Republic. The Federal Republic has been under considerable pressure since its inception to protect itself more successfully than its Weimar predecessor against its enemies. Unfortunately a ‘militant democracy’ can easily become an illiberal democracy, more concerned with its own stability than with political development.

AN ANONYMOUS COMMENTATOR ON THE GREEK POLITICAL SCENE predicted in 1970 that it was unlikely that the Greeks, even if resentful of the Colonels' 'unta, would ‘respond widely to their presently exiled (self- or otherwise) erstwhile political leaders’ and concluded that 'the self-exiled Karamanlis, with his protracted silences, had lost much of his credit with his followers’. He was by no means alone in writing off the old politicians in general, and Constantine Karamanlis in particular, as a serious factor in the Greek political equation. But when the Greek military regime collapsed in July 1974 in the wake of President Makarios's overthrow in Cyprus and the subsequent Turkish invasion, President Phaidon Gizikis had no other choice than to summon the 67-year-old Constantine Karamanlis to clear up the mess created by seven years of military government. Karamanlis, far from being a spent force, returned to a welcome verging on delirium and looks set fair for another long term as Prime Minister and most likely, once the new constitution has been enacted, as President of Greece.