‘Beat the Whites With the Red Wedge’: the essence of world revolution

El Lissitzky’s iconic Civil War poster ‘Beat the Whites With the Red Wedge’ is perhaps the single most recognisable piece of artwork to emerge from the entire Russian Revolution. Its influence is widespread even today. In this article, Nelson Wan and James Kilby explore how The Red Wedge came into being, how it captures the essence of revolution, and how a work of propaganda such as this can be considered great art.

[This article was originally published as part of issue 47 of In Defence of Marxism magazine – the quarterly theoretical journal of the Revolutionary Communist International – get your copy here!]

“In Moscow in 1918 there flashed before my eyes the short-circuit which split the world in two. This single blow pushed the time we call the present like a wedge between yesterday and tomorrow. My efforts are now directed to driving the wedge deeper. One must belong on this side or that – there is no mid way.”^[1] – El Lissitzky, 1918

The Russian Revolution of 1917 ushered in a wave of artistic and creative genius that stirred the depths of society. For the first time in their lives, the oppressed masses of Russia had the doors of art and culture flung open to them. Meanwhile the best and brightest of the Russian artists and intelligentsia aligned themselves with the revolution.

One of the greatest of these artists was the virtuosic Eleazar Markovich Lissitzky, known commonly as ‘El Lissitzky’. El Lissitzky was, amongst other things, a photographer, designer, typographer, and architect. El Lissitzky revolutionised almost every field of art that he worked in, and following the October Revolution, he identified heart and soul as a communist.

Whilst his contributions in other fields have been seminal, the work that El Lissitzky is perhaps best known for is his Civil War poster Beat the Whites With the Red Wedge, which was produced to aid the Bolshevik struggle against the White armies of reaction.

Intense struggle

Beat the Whites With the Red Wedge is a brilliant depiction of the revolutionary process at one of its most intense phases: that of civil war.

In the course of this struggle, society is polarised to the highest degree. There is no escaping the question: which side are you on?

This was precisely where the Russian Revolution found itself in late 1919, when El Lissitzky likely produced The Red Wedge. Although the October Revolution of 1917 was largely a bloodless affair, by March 1918 the intervention of the world’s imperialists to finance, arm, and supply forces to the counter-revolution, opened up the bloodbath of the Civil War.

In the course of this struggle, society – and indeed the world – was split into two opposing camps, the Reds and Whites. Despite being referred to as a ‘civil war’, it was in fact an international war, spread over a vast number of territories, and involving many more nations.

At one point or another, all the petty-bourgeois parties in what was the former Russian Empire either split, or lined up behind the Whites. The peasantry fractured between the poor and middle layers on one side, who gained from the Bolshevik’s land policy and were prepared to defend it, and the rich peasants, or ‘kulaks’, most of whom were hostile to the revolution.

Beat the Whites With The Red Wedge very graphically depicts this process, as the struggle between two sides internationally: light and dark. There is no middle camp.

Here we see a struggle between the revolution, represented on the left in brightness, overcoming the counterrevolution, depicted as darkness on the right. The red wedge itself clearly communicates the spearhead of the revolution – the Red Army, under the leadership of the Bolsheviks – smashing the White armies of reaction.

As with many great revolutionary artists, there have been efforts by the bourgeoisie to separate El Lissitsky’s art from his revolutionary beliefs, but this is impossible. As Trotsky said, an artist is not an “empty machine”. ^[2] They are a living person with a psychology shaped by the society around them.

The imagery of The Red Wedge tells us that El Lissitzky was not a mere ‘fellow traveller’, viewing the revolution as a blind process from without, but he in fact had an appreciation of the internal dynamics of the revolutionary process, and the totality of what a revolution represents.

It is abundantly clear that El Lissitzky understood the Russian Revolution from within, as a communist. To the naked eye, revolutions are chaotic and formless. To a petty bourgeois there is no reason or scientific rationality behind a revolution. But El Lissitzky is not depicting chaos. The Red Wedge expresses clarity, unity of purpose and action, consistency, and the class struggle itself; all with mathematical precision. Trotsky described Marxism as the “algebra of revolution”, which happens to be a fitting description of what The Red Wedge depicts. ^[3]

Driving a wedge

As an artwork The Red Wedge is highly abstract, and yet the simplistic forms provide an even deeper clarity in meaning. With the exception of some smaller triangles and rectangles, the composition is made entirely of two-dimensional shapes, and yet there is dynamism and movement expressed.

A highly likely influence for The Red Wedge was Nikolai Kolli’s Monument to the Red Army / Image: public domain

The form of the red wedge is sharp and forceful. With all its strength concentrated into one point, it penetrates the inert white circle. The smaller red wedges express motion to burst into the picture and shatter the smaller grey rectangles. The text aligns itself with this movement. And whereas smaller contingents of the Red Army are depicted in the rear as a series of orderly rectangles; the additional forces of the White Armies are depicted in disarray as they are confronted by the Reds.

By using abstract shapes and colours to depict the forces of revolution and counter-revolution, there is no hint of any nationalism to this struggle. There is simply a struggle between the two decisive classes of modern day society: the international working class, and the capitalists of all countries.

A highly likely influence for The Red Wedge was Nikolai Kolli’s Monument to the Red Army, which was built in 1918 in Moscow to celebrate the defeat of general Krasnov’s attempted military coup of November 1917.

Simply titled The Red Wedge, Kolli's monument consisted of a red triangle vertically inserted as a wedge into a white rectangular block. A very visible crack snakes downward from the tip of the triangle, suggesting that the force of the red wedge has succeeded in breaking the solidity of the white structure.

The abstract metaphor of this red wedge was intended to signify the victory of the Red Army over the White counter-revolution. The monument managed to convey a narrative, which would have been comprehensible to all levels of Russian society, as would have undoubtedly been the case with El Lissitzky’s transmutation of Kolli’s monument into his Red Wedge.

The red wedge itself is indeed a fitting metaphor for the vanguard of the revolution. On one level, it represents the military forces of the Reds: sharp enough to pierce the defences of the Whites and overwhelm them. But on another level, it represents the red programme of revolution: expropriation of the capitalists and landlords, workers’ power, and land to the peasants.

The Bolsheviks skillfully used their programme to drive a wedge into the armies of the counter-revolution, splitting their forces between the military tops – and the capitalists and landlords that they served – and the ranks, many of whom were won politically to the side of the revolution.

Indeed, of the 21 armies of foreign intervention that were sent by the imperialists to help crush the revolution, nearly all of them had to be withdrawn following mutinies, or the danger of rebellions, from within the ranks.

The red wedge therefore is effective in defeating the White Armies from within, something that El Lissitzky’s poster excellently conveys.

The impact of October

The Red Wedge is also noteworthy in that it reveals the profound impact that the Russian Revolution had on a layer of artists and their art.

The entry of the masses onto the stage of history unleashed a massive pent-up desire to conquer the world of culture on their part. The struggle to transform society produced a sense of spiritual uplift, which of course found its reflection in the art of the day.

The revolution attracted a wide layer of artists, who connected with the new spirit of the times. The old traditions and routines of the past were thrown out, in favour of new ideas, and new techniques.

The Red Wedge is clearly a product of the ‘Suprematist’ school of art, pioneered by El Lissitzky’s friend and mentor Kazemir Malevich in 1915. Malevich created some of the world’s first completely abstract paintings. He rejected the imitation of natural forms, and demanded the creation of abstract geometric compositions, in limited colours, in order to demonstrate “the supremacy of pure feeling in creative art”.^[4]

Malevich correctly pointed out that art that simply reproduces a faithful likeness of material objects does not in itself make for great art. It is the feelings that a work of art produces in people that are most significant.

Whilst this certainly contains a profound truth, Malevich, as a philosophical idealist, exaggerated the world of ‘non-objective’ feelings and emotions as primary to the material world. His philosophy of ‘Suprematism’ was therefore shrouded in a cloak of mysticism.

Malevich’s Black Square – and other works – opened the door to a genuine revolution in art / Image: Kazimir Malevich, 1915, Black Suprematic Square, oil on linen canvas, 79.5 x 79.5 cm, Tretyakov Gallery, Moscow

One of Malevich’s most famous works, where he took abstraction to its most extreme form, was his painting of a black square (to depict ‘pure feeling’) on a white background, which he made in 1915. From this he proceeded to more complex arrangements of geometric forms, such as his Suprematist Composition (Blue Rectangle Over the Red Beam), painted in 1915.

Malevich’s Black Square – and other works – opened the door to a genuine revolution in art, which based itself upon abstractions as a way to conjure feelings. Some of the best art of this period emerged from this trend.

Malevich, following 1917, fully embraced the revolution, becoming a member of the Collegium on the Arts of Narkompros (the People's Commissariat for Education). Despite being philosophically hostile to Marxism, he was encouraged to take up teaching roles at a number of prestigious art schools, and afforded wide opportunities to display his works. This is testament to the culture of freedom of artistic expression that characterised the early years of the Bolshevik’s rule, before it was suffocated by the rise of the Stalinist bureaucracy.

In October of 1919, El Lissitzky persuaded Malevich to join him teaching at the People’s Art School in Vitebsk, Belarus. In addition to teaching graphic design, printing, and architecture, El Lissitzky had spent the summer at Vitebsk designing and creating propaganda posters.

It was at Vitebsk that Malevich converted El Lissitzky to his Suprematist style. El Lissitzky produced Beat the Whites With the Red Wedge soon after, in either late 1919 or early 1920.

Despite his enormous contributions to the art of this period, Malevich was described by El Lissitzky as being “trapped in a world devoid of real objects”. ^[5] It was therefore left to El Lissitzky to undertake a more practical application of Malevich’s Suprematist ideas in The Red Wedge and other works.

The Red Wedge was a mass-produced poster, as opposed to a painting or a sculpture. It moved into the realm of typography, graphic design, and postering. And unlike Malevich’s attempts to convey ‘pure feeling’ (something that cannot exist), it intentionally sought to tap into and help develop a very specific feeling: the revolutionary optimism and determination of the working class and poor in their struggle to transform the world.

Agit-prop

It was no accident that El Lissitzky decided to produce his Red Wedge as a poster, rather than a traditional canvas or sculpture. According to El Lissitzky, typographic design underwent a radical change following the Russian Revolution:

"It is the great masses, the semi-literate masses, who have become the audience. […] The traditional book was torn into separate pages, enlarged a hundred-fold, coloured for great intensity, and brought into the street as a poster.”^[6]

There was an explosion of street art in the years following the October Revolution, of which posters played a large part. According to art historian Mikhail Guerman:

“The poster stimulated thought, expressed indignation, bubbled over with enthusiasm, provoked laughter, responded to events on the instant, and communicated news without delay. Posters were drawn at night, to be pasted up on the streets in the morning. Although the sheets were devised with the knowledge that their life was but a day, in the history of art they have lasted down the years. They have lasted not merely as witnesses of great events, but also because of their great and rigorous perfection.” ^[7]

Such was the spirit of the ‘Agit-Prop’ art that was produced by El Lissitzky and other avant-garde artists in this period.

Indeed, in the years following his creation of The Red Wedge, El Lissitzky and Malevich co-founded UNOVIS (‘Exponents of the New Art’), a collective of Suprematist artists. Rather than create art works for display in galleries or private homes, they decorated the walls and interiors of public buildings with Suprematist designs, posters, and signs. Their intention was to disseminate Suprematism as the visual language of world revolution.

Can propaganda be great art?

What is also remarkable about El Lissitzky’s Red Wedge is that it was produced as a propaganda poster, and yet this fact does not diminish its artistic quality.

The greatest art is that which deals with the biggest questions, those of life and death, which move the lives of millions / Image: Kazimir Malevich, Suprematist Composition (blue rectangle over the red beam), 1916

The greatest art is that which deals with the biggest questions, those of life and death, which move the lives of millions. It is art that has something to say about the world we live in, that stirs the emotions, and moves people to action.

Much of the greatest art is therefore political, as it deals with the conditions of life, struggles, and aspirations of the oppressed. But politics alone does not make art great. Whilst it is certainly possible for artists to convey a political message in their art, the message should emerge organically from the art, and not be something forced.

Generally speaking, works of propaganda rarely amount to great art, if they are even considered ‘art’ at all. This is since propaganda is mainly concerned with delivering a message that is entirely external to the art-form used. The artistic element is secondary; it is a mere hook to convey a political point.

But whilst El Lissitzky’s Red Wedge is undoubtedly a work of propaganda, its artistic and political intentions harmoniously align. The propaganda present in the work is not shallow demagoguery; it is the distilled essence of the Russian Revolution and all that it sought to achieve.

The Red Wedge is as clear an expression of the revolutionary struggle to change society as any artist could ever produce. There is a universality to it, in that it could be understood in any class society, where the revolutionary class is fighting for its future, and for the future of humanity as a whole.

As such, this artwork instantly connects with the aspirations of the exploited and oppressed everywhere to overthrow their oppressors, and begin the transformation of society. It taps into the burning sense of anger that millions feel about their conditions of life, and the hatred felt towards their rulers. It shows that together, if organised, we can fight back – and win. It is a true inspiration.

Conversely, the image strikes fear into the hearts of the ruling class, who are terrified of a mass movement sweeping them from power.

The Red Wedge therefore cannot but help to stir people’s emotions, wherever they are. It is this that makes it a truly great work of art.

A spur to action

El Lissitzky did not regard the propagandistic elements of The Red Wedge as an externally imposed compromise. If there remains any further doubt on where El Lissitzky’s convictions lay, one need only look at the personal confessions that were published in his biography:

“Every piece of work I did was an invitation, not to make eyes at it but to take it as a spur to action, to urge our feelings to follow the general line of forming a classless society.”^[8]

Whilst some petty-bourgeois philistines, who see only themselves and their own narrow interests, may baulk at the idea of artistic creation for a political purpose, there was clearly no contradiction present for El Lissitzky, as he tirelessly dedicated his art to the revolution and the building of a new society.

To this day, millions of people worldwide are inspired by The Red Wedge. It stands as a striking reminder that it is indeed possible for the oppressed and exploited to take power into their own hands, and defeat the forces of reaction. In a world of intolerable suffering and chaos, it is a symbol that a new world is possible.

References

[1] S Lissitzky-Kuppers (ed.), El Lissitzky: Life, Letters, Texts, Thames and Hudson, 1992, pg 329

[2] L Trotsky, Literature and Revolution, University of Michigan Press, 1960, pg 171

[3] ibid., pg 104

[4] K Malevich, ‘Suprematism’, The Non Objective World, Paul Theobald and co., 1959, pg 67

[5] E Lissitzky, Russia: An Architecture for World Revolution, M.I.T. Press, 1930, pg 29

[6] E Lissitzsky ‘Our Book’, Twentieth Century Art Theory, Prentice-Hall, 1990, pg 295

[7] M Guerman, Art of the October Revolution, Harry N Abrams, 1979, pg 76

[8] S Lissitzky-Kuppers (ed.), El Lissitzky: Life, Letters, Texts, Thames and Hudson, 1992, pg 326