Think about the way they thought, back then. The Revolution - the Manifesto - was considered self-evidently true. It would start with strikes, in which the workers would unite to protest the theft of their labor, and let the property owners fail without anyone to support them. It had to happen. All nations would eventually see a rise of the proletariat against the bourgeoisie, overthrowing capitalism, installing socialism, until the state should wither away and everyone live in the foretold Communist paradise.
But just because it was inevitable didn't mean it wouldn't get terribly unpleasant along the way. In particular, there was this big American capitalistic monster squatting over the globe, interfering with the inevitable -- in fact, being by all accounts a pleasant place to live, and in postwar years booming prosperously, and making friends. Casting you as the great enemy.
The big question, for the party chiefs, was how to undermine it. How to speed the Revolution along, get it over with, get to the good part: the triumph of the people, and the communist paradise that the true believers were sure would follow.
Communists had had high hopes. After all, hadn't capitalism essentially collapsed under its own contradictions in the U.S., back in 1929? They'd had a decade of misery. It looked like socialism might actually take hold - yet where were the strikes? The inevitable violent responses by the police? The crackdowns? The collapse of government?
The government had instead done the unthinkable. It had actually sided with the people. It wrote reforms - limited work weeks, minimum wage, workplace standards; it set up retirement plans, and welfare, recognized unions and the right to organize. Tax money was being used to send ordinary people to college! It was building roads and bridges, railroads and air travel. It was *breaking up* the huge corporations! It was putting *restrictions* on the behavior of the wealthy!
To prevent the Communist revolution, it was *co-opting* pieces of socialism - using taxes on the rich to help the common man and woman. And it had worked! This hybrid was in danger of being stable. The inevitable was being postponed indefinitely.
And that was simply unacceptable.
For a Communist revolution to happen, the people had to suffer. The bourgeoisie must indulge their worst excesses. They had to stop believing in their country.
So what do you do, to destabilize a nation where the people are happy? Where lives are getting better? Where the wealthy aren't running away with all the money?
You change the attitudes. You do your best to introduce class warfare.
But how? You can't just make people who are happy believe they're unhappy. You can't get people who are benefitting from an arrangement to change it.
You had to attack this from the top. If the pro-democracy people had coopted socialism, you had to coopt capitalism. You had to control the minds of the bourgeoisie. You had to make them think this was a bad deal. You had to convince them that taxes were always evil, no matter their purpose. Appeal to their greed - their selfishness - their belief that someone else was benefiting from their labor.
Turn *them*, in their own minds, into the heroic, oppressed proletariat.
And for that, you need a Book. You need the equal of the Manifesto. You have to get a book published that celebrates bourgeois capitalism the way Marx celebrated communism.
Structure it the same way. Invent a society where the wealthy bourgeoisie are the real producers, and thus victims whose productivity is being stolen; cast wage-earning workers and champions of equality as leeches and oppressors. Turn the Manifesto inside-out. And sell it as an American story.
For that, you need an American. Fortunately, back then, Americans were made as often as they were born.
This meant all you needed was to import a deep-cover Soviet plant. Give her a cover story that wrote her up as hostile to Communism. Have her write a book - it will be long-winded with wooden characters, like a Russian novel, but the right people won't care; given her immigrant status, they would even celebrate this aspect.
Americans love the outrageous. Make the novel outrageous: end with the destruction of most of humanity, but stack the deck with such unpleasant people that your book's intended audience will cheer as the world ends, as her heroes reinvent a paradise around themselves, with everyone but themselves dead or dying. To your genocidal protagonists, add things simply not done in novels - put a hundred-page polemic directly in the middle of the novel. Invert everything. Turn vice into virtue. Turn fairness into madness. Turn compassion into oppression. Turn the reader inward: make the reader as close to autistic as you can, thinking and understanding nothing but himself: then rewrite who he is.
If your author develops a cult of personality about herself, celebrating the individual and hating cooperation and society, so much the better. Let the wealthy imagine they are better than everyone else - suck them into her cult of disdain for humanity.
If her life is a mess of internal contradictions, that won't hurt you - after all, as far as you're concerned, capitalism is a mess of internal contradictions; her bourgeois fans won't even notice.
It might take decades - even generations - for your plan to bear fruit. You might even be dead and gone. But the Revolution will triumph. You will be vindicated. Implementing your plan, with the help of your agent, you can eventually cause the bourgeoisie to follow your blueprint - they will imagine themselves the sole producers, with everyone else a worthless parasite. They will imagine, then, that they must undo the pieces of social welfare that made their capitalist system work. They will use their leverage upon society to steal more and more wealth, then purchase government, then direct it to destroy itself. And without the protection that this strangely effective hybrid government was providing for its citizens, the mass of the citizenry will fall back into lives as oppressed proletariat - for this always happens to laissez-faire capitalism, the necessary precursor to the Revolution.
And because the novel's premise - of workers that don't do the work, of people who don't act like people - is false, it of course won't wind up the way your novel pretended it would. When their lives are thrown back into poverty and misery, ordinary people will not, in fact, lie down and die. They will become angry. And they will rise up. They will fight back. They will unite. For they will, by then, have nothing to lose but their chains.
So what do you think? Can we make it a screenplay? Bounce back and forth between 1947 and 2011. Follow A*n R*nd as she writes her novel and develops her cult, but add conversations with Soviet agents throughout - and then watch as her novel turns real, with people like R*nd Pa*l and Pa*l Ry*n becoming eager disciples, quoting from her book, and implementing her screeds...