IN DEFENSE OF RATIONAL ANARCHISM
Copyright George
H. Smith (november 1997)
Anarchism is a theory of the good society,
in which justice and social order are maintained without the State (or
government). Many anarchists in the libertarian movement (including
myself) were heavily influenced by the epistemological and moral theories
of Ayn Rand. According to these anarchists, Rand's principles, if
consistently applied, lead necessarily to a repudiation of government on
moral grounds.
I call this rational anarchism,
because it is grounded in the belief that we are fully capable, through
reason, of discerning the principles of justice; and that we are capable,
through rational persuasion and voluntary agreement, of establishing
whatever institutions are necessary for the preservation and enforcement
of justice. It is precisely because no government can be established by
means of reason and mutual consent that all Objectivists should reject
that institution as unjust in both theory and practice.
Although it is sometime useful to
distinguish between the meanings of "State" and
"government," such distinctions are irrelevant to the present
discussion, so I shall use the terms interchangeably. Following the
classic discussion of the sociologist and historian Max Weber, I shall
define the "State" as a human community that (successfully)
claims the monopoly of the legitimate use of physical force within a given
territory."
The State is vested with the exclusive
power to enact legislation, adjudicate legal disputes, enforce laws, etc.,
while forcibly preventing other individuals and associations from engaging
in the same activities. The State, in other words, exercises a coercive
monopoly in the enforcement of justice. This ultimate power of
decision-making is known in political theory as "sovereignty."
In the words of the historian A. P. d'Entreves, "the problem of the
birth of the modern State is no other than the problem of the rise and
final acceptance of the concept of sovereignty."
The concept of sovereignty is the focal
point of the current debate between anarchists and minarchists (a label
coined by Sam Konkin for the advocates of minimal, or "limited,"
government). The fundamental problem is this: Where does the right of
sovereignty come from, and how can it be justified? This is an especially
difficult problem for those in the Lockeian tradition of minarchism -
which, in this context, includes the followers of Ayn Rand.
John Locke (like Ayn Rand) believed that
all rights belong to individuals. There are no special "group
rights" that exist in addition to individual rights. The rights of
all groups (including the group that calls itself a
"government") must be based on, and in some way derived from,
the rights of individuals.
I call this approach political
reductionism, because it maintains that the sovereign rights of a
(legitimate) government are reducible to the rights of individuals.
Political reductionism stands in opposition to political emergence theory,
which argues that at least one right (usually the right to enforce the
precepts of justice) does not originally belong to individuals, but
emerges only in civil societies under government.
Now, having presented this background
material, I will address several key issues in the minarchist/anarchist
controversy.
AYN RAND AND THE SOCIAL CONTRACT TRADITION
According to John Locke, every person in an
anarchistic state of nature would possess the "executive power"
to enforce his own rights against the aggressive actions of others. But
owing to various "inconveniences" (such as the likelihood of
personal bias when acting as judge in one's own case), Locke argued that
rational people would unanimously agree to leave this state of nature and
join a "civil society," which would thereafter use majority rule
to decide upon a particular form of government, such as constitutional
monarchy, democracy, and so forth.
This "social contract" was
Locke's way of accounting for our obligation to obey the political
sovereign. Beginning with the rights of individuals, Locke tried to show
how the executive power to enforce these natural rights would be
delegated, through a process of consent, to government. Eighteenth-century
Americans were chiefly indebted to John Locke for their belief in
government by consent.
Ayn Rand defends a consent doctrine in
several of her essays, but she never explains how this consent should
manifest itself - whether, for example, it must be explicit or merely
tacit (as Locke believed). Nor does she explain precisely which rights are
delegated to government and how they are transferred. Therefore, although
Rand appears to fall within the social contract tradition (at least in a
general way), it is unclear where she would stand on the nature and method
of political consent. I sincerely hope that some of her minarchist
followers can shed some light on this problem.
CONSENT THEORY VS. GOVERNMENT
Many of John Locke's critics - such as David
Hume, Josiah Tucker, Adam Smith, Edmund Burke, and Jeremy Bentham - argued
that the inner logic of consent theory, if consistently applied, will land
us in anarchy. As these critics pointed out, no government has ever
originated in consent, and there is no reason to suppose that individuals,
in full possession of their natural rights, would ever subordinate
themselves voluntarily to a government.
I agree with these critics. If we accept
the premise that individuals (and only individuals) possess equal and
reciprocal rights, and if we insist that these individuals must consent to
be ruled by a government, and if we condemn as illegitimate all
governments that rule without consent - then all governments, past and
present, have been illegitimate.
Furthermore, I maintain that Objectivists,
if they are to remain true to the consent doctrine, must embrace this kind
of "practical anarchism" and condemn all historical governments
as unjust. True, Objectivists insist that government can be justified in
theory - though none (that I know of) has ever spelled out the necessary
criteria - but this theoretically legitimate government has never existed
anywhere on this earth. Nor can it exist anywhere except in what Edmund
Burke called "the fairyland of philosophy." As Josiah Tucker (a
contemporary of Burke) put it, the consent theory of government is
"the universal demolisher of all governments, but not the builder of
any."
John Locke identified two fundamental
problems that must be addressed by the political philosopher. First, what
is the justification of the State? Second, assuming that we can justify
the State in theory, what are the standards by which we can judge the
legitimacy of a particular government? Too often minarchists deal only
with the first question, while ignoring the second.
Suppose I am asked what could conceivably
change my mind and cause me to endorse government, and suppose I give the
following reply: "If I believed in the God of Christianity, and if I
believed that God had dispatched a squad of angels to communicate with me
personally, and if these angels told me that the State is a divine
institution, ordained by God for the protection of human rights, and if
these angels further informed me that anarchism would lead to widespread
death and destruction - then, under these circumstances, I would abandon
my anarchism in favor of minarchism."
But consider an important feature that
would be missing from my newfound justification of the State. While
believing that the State is justified, qua institution, I would not
possess specific standards by which to judge whether a self-professed
"government" is in fact a legitimate State at all, or whether it
is merely a gang of usurpers and oppressors who claim to act on behalf of
that divine institution.
As a remedy for this problem, suppose the
angels provide me with a clear and unmistakable standard, to wit:
"You will know legitimate rulers by the visible halos over their
heads. This sign, and this sign alone, will mark the agents who are
authorized by God to act on behalf of the State." Well, after looking
around at the functionaries of existing governments, and after seeing no
such halos, I would conclude that no one who presently claims to represent
the State is morally authorized to do so. On the contrary, I would surmise
that America is currently in a state of anarchy, since it contains no
legitimate government - so, devoted minarchist that I am, I would dedicate
my life to abolishing our wicked "government" and to exposing
those Satanic politicians who fraudulently pose as functionaries of that
divine institution, the State.
This is a species of the "practical
anarchism" that Objectivists must logically endorse. For halos, they
have substituted consent as the discernible sign of a legitimate
government - and, like halos, consent is nowhere to be found in real-life
governments. Hence, while defending the State in theory, these consent-minarchists
should oppose all existing governments in practice. And this, I dare say,
is a kind of minarchism that I can live with quite well - for we are more
likely to be visited by angels than to find a government based on consent.
AYN RAND, ANARCHIST
My next point will probably cause me to be
branded as a psycho-epistemological pervert, but here it is: I am
convinced that Ayn Rand was essentially an anarchist in substance, if not
in name. She was at most a nominal governmentalist. If the conventional
meaning of a word is to count for anything at all (and it should), then
Rand's ideal "government" is in fact no government at all, but
is merely a sheep in wolf's clothing.
How can I make this outrageous claim? I
base it on Rand's moral opposition to coercive taxation. The power of
coercive taxation, as Alexander Hamilton said in The
Federalist Papers is the very life-blood of government. Indeed,
the great debate over ratification of the United States Constitution
centered on whether or not the federal government should have the power to
tax. The Articles of Confederation had withheld this power from Congress,
reserving it exclusively for the states. Many Anti-Federalists opposed the
Constitution because they realized that the federal government, if granted
the power to lay and collect taxes directly from the people, would strip
the states of their sovereign authority.
If the defenders of either side in the
ratification debate had encountered Rand's argument for "voluntary
taxation," they would have assailed it, first, as a veritable
contradiction in terms (which it is), and, secondly, as a rejection of
sovereign government altogether (which it also is). Virtually every
defender of government - from John Locke to Thomas Jefferson to Ludwig von
Mises - has recognized coercive taxation to be an essential component of
sovereignty, a power without which no true government can exist.
The principle of "voluntary
taxation" reduces Rand's "government" to a free-market
protection agency, which, like every business, must either satisfy its
customers or close up shop. What is to prevent a dissatisfied customer
from withholding his money from a Randian "government," while
subscribing instead to the services of another agency? Why cannot a
landowner (or combination of landowners) refuse to pay for the services of
their Randian "government," which they regard as inefficient,
and take their business elsewhere?
The right to pay for services or not,
according to one's own judgment, is a characteristic of the free market;
it has no relationship, either theoretically or historically, to the
institution of government. There is no way a government can retain its
sovereign power - its monopoly on the use of legitimate force - if it does
not possess the power of compulsory taxation.
When the nineteenth-century minarchist
Auberon Herbert advanced his theory of "voluntary taxation," he
was widely praised by anarchists, such as Benjamin Tucker, who embraced
him as one of their own. But he was assailed by fellow minarchists, such
as Herbert Spencer, who correctly pointed out that Herbert's position was
indistinguishable from anarchism. Likewise, Rand's position on taxation
places her squarely in the anarchist camp - her idiosyncratic use of the
word "government" notwithstanding. We should focus in this
debate on the concept of government and its essential characteristics, not
on the word usage of a particular writer.
OBJECTIVE JUSTICE VS. LEGAL MONOPOLISM
I defend anarchism, or society without the
State, because I believe that innocent people cannot be forced to
surrender any of their natural rights. Those who wish to delegate some of
their rights to a government are free to do so, provided they do not
violate the rights of dissenters who choose not to endorse their
government.
As Ayn Rand has said, the lives of other
people are not yours to dispose of. Yet this is precisely what every
government attempts to do. A government initiates physical force (or the
threat of force) to prohibit other people from exercising their right to
enforce the rules of justice. (Either every person has this executive
power, or no one does, according to the principle of political
reductionism.) A government, while engaging in certain activities which it
claims are just, coercively prevents other people from engaging in those
selfsame activities.
By what moral means, I ask, does a
government come to possess this exclusive right? A government cannot
bestow justice on an action that would be unjust if undertaken by someone
else. Nor can a government, through force or arbitrary decree, render an
action unjust when undertaken by someone else, if that same action is just
when undertaken by government. The principles of justice are objective and
therefore universal; they apply equally and without exception to every
human being, as does every rational precept and procedure. A mathematical
computation, for example, cannot be correct when computed by a government,
and incorrect when computed by someone else. A deductive syllogism, if
valid for those in government, is equally valid for those outside of
government. Murder, if wrong when committed by an individual, is equally
wrong when committed by a government.
Likewise, an activity, if moral when
pursued by a government, is equally moral when pursued by someone else.
All this should be obvious to those who agree with the principles put
forth by Ayn Rand. If, therefore, the principles of justice are objective
(i.e., knowable to human reason), then a government can no more claim a
monopoly on the legitimate use of force than it can claim a monopoly on
reason.
Those minarchists who claim that justice
can prevail only under government must implicitly defend the view that
justice is either subjective or intrinsic. If justice is subjective, if it
varies from one person to the next, then government can be defended as
necessary to establish objective rules. Likewise, if justice is intrinsic
to government itself, if whatever a government decrees is necessarily
just, then government is justified automatically.
If, however, justice is neither subjective
nor intrinsic, but instead is objective - i.e., if it can be derived by
rational methods from the facts of man's nature and the requirements of
social existence - then the principles of justice are knowable to every
rational person. This means that no person, group of persons, association,
or institution whether known as "government," "State,"
or by any other name - can rightfully claim a legal monopoly in matters
pertaining to justice.
Rational anarchism, in short, is simply the
application of Ayn Rand's theory of objective knowledge to the realm of
justice.
STATE-SOVEREIGNTY VS. SELF-SOVEREIGNTY
As far as I know, the first sustained attack
on legal pluralism came from Marsilius of Padua in the fourteenth century.
In his Defender
of the Peace, Marsilius attacked the legal pluralism of his day -
especially as it pertained to the political authority of the Church and he
maintained that one authority, and one alone, should have sovereign power
in a given territory.
In defense of this view, Marsilius argued
that to deny the right of sovereignty leads ultimately to a logical
contradiction. Someone - some person, association or institution - must
have the authority to render a final verdict in order for a legal system
to operate. One of Marsilius's more interesting examples went something
like this:
Suppose two "competing
governments" (to use the misleading terminology of Ayn Rand) claim
jurisdiction over the same territory, and suppose both have the right to
issue compulsory subpoenas that require a person to appear in court on a
given day. Furthermore, suppose I receive subpoenas from both agencies
demanding that I appear in court at exactly the same time. Since it is
impossible for me to be in two places at once, it is impossible for me to
obey both governments simultaneously.
Yet this conflicts with our initial premise
- that both agencies have a rightful authority to issue subpoenas -
because I am logically required to disobey at least one of these
governments.
I don't know the official Objectivist
position on subpoenas, but the logic of the foregoing argument can easily
accommodate other examples. The important point here is the reasoning
behind this "logic of sovereignty argument," as it is sometimes
called. This argument exerted considerable influence after 1576, when Jean
Bodin used it to defend absolute monarchy. It was also used for the same
purpose in the seventeenth century by Sir Robert Filmer (Locke's dead
adversary) and Thomas Hobbes.
It is scarcely accidental that the logic of
sovereignty argument was a favorite among the defenders of absolutism, and
was vigorously opposed by John Locke and other champions of limited
government. For consider: If the sovereign (whether one man or group of
men) is the final arbiter in all matters pertaining to justice, then how
can the sovereign himself be held accountable for committing acts of
injustice? The absolutists insisted that he cannot be so judged by any
human authority; the sovereign was accountable to "none but
God."
Sovereign power, in this view, must be
absolute (i.e., unconditional), because by definition there is no higher
authority than the sovereign himself. The sovereign is therefore above the
law, not under it, which means that there can exist no rights of
resistance and revolution by the people. To advocate a "divided
sovereignty," according to Filmer, Hobbes and other absolutists, is
to advocate anarchy.
I cannot go into the various ways that
Locke and other minarchists tried to get around this logic of sovereignty
argument, but I think the absolutists had the stronger philosophical case.
Either a government has sovereign power, or it doesn't. Either a
government has the final authority to render and execute legal decisions,
or it doesn't. Sovereignty is an all-or-nothing affair. And if this is
true, then no person has a right to resist the sovereign, however unjust
his actions may appear. For who is to decide whether a law is unjust, if
not the sovereign himself? Who is to decide whether a right has been
violated, if not a sovereign government in its role as final arbiter?
In any dispute between a sovereign
government and its subjects, the government itself must decide who is
right; and, as Locke suggested, the sovereign, like everyone else, is
likely to be biased in his own favor.. I would therefore like to know how
those Objectivists who use the logic of sovereignty argument as a weapon
against anarchism can avoid sliding down the slippery slope into
absolutism.
If I am arrested for smoking pot or for
reading a prohibited book (say, Atlas Shrugged) do I have a right
forcibly to resist my incarceration?
If you say "no," then you are
defending absolutism. If you say "yes," then what happened to
the sovereign power of government to render final decisions in matters of
law? - for in resisting the government I am clearly acting as judge in my
own case.
Ayn Rand somewhere says that a government
becomes tyrannical when it attempts to suppress freedom of speech and
press, but who is to decide when this line has been crossed, if not the
sovereign government? Surely we can't have crazy people like Ayn Rand
running around condemning some laws as unjust and calling for
disobedience, because this will lead to anarchy. We cannot preach
sovereignty when it suits our purpose, and then oppose it when we don't
like particular laws, for this undermines the rationale of sovereignty
itself - i.e., that legal matters cannot be left to the discretion of
individuals. The doctrine of natural rights, as foes of consent theory
repeatedly pointed out, is inherently anarchistic. Burke called natural
rights "a digest of anarchy," while Bentham castigated them as
"anarchical fallacies."
If at any point Objectivists are willing to
admit that individuals have the right to resist an unjust law or overthrow
a despotic government, then they are conceding the basic premise of
anarchism: namely, that true sovereignty resides in each individual, who
has the right to assess the justice of a particular law, procedure or
government.
There can be no (logically consistent)
middle ground between state-sovereignty and self-sovereignty, between
absolutism and anarchism. I defend the self-sovereignty of anarchism. If
Objectivists do not understand how I can defend the individual as the
"final authority in ethics," I recommend they read Ayn Rand's
essay on that topic.
THE LOGIC OF STATE-SOVEREIGNTY VS.
OBJECTIVE JUSTICE
In over twenty-five years of arguing with
Randian minarchists, I have encountered few who seem even remotely aware
that the logic of sovereignty argument has been a central theme in
political theory for over four centuries. Those familiar with its long
history will understand that it has everywhere and always been used to
defend and expand the absolute power of government.
In The
Federalist Papers, for example, both Madison and Hamilton
repeatedly use the logic of sovereignty argument to defend extensive
discretionary powers in the federal government, and to prove that no limit
can logically be imposed on the taxing power of Congress. Indeed, Hamilton
insists that an "unqualified" (i.e., absolute) power to tax is
logically deducible from the axiom of sovereignty, and Madison defends a
similar position.
As the saying goes, if you lie down with
dogs, you get up with fleas. The minarchists who lie down with the logic
of sovereignty argument are infested with the fleas of absolutism, but
apparently they haven't noticed or don't care.
Our primary concern should be with the
justice of a legal system - i.e., with what laws are enforced,
not with who enforces them. This justice can be ascertained by objective
standards of right.
If the legal system of an agency (whether
governmental or private) is truly just as evaluated by objective standards
- and if, by "competition," we mean any attempt forcibly to
overturn this legal system, replacing it with an unjust system - then our
agency may forcibly resist and overthrow the outlaw agency, owing to its
effort to violate individual rights.
As I said, however, the right to suppress
the outlaw agency has nothing to do with the alleged necessity for a final
arbiter. Rather, it is simply an application of the right of every
individual, whether by himself or in combination with others, to resist
and repel despotism, whatever the source of that despotism may be. The
pertinent issue, therefore, is not whether we need a coercive monopoly to
enforce justice; but whether we can determine the justice of legal system
by objective methods, and whether, having objectively condemned a given
system as unjust, we can then forcibly resist any individual or agency
which seeks to impose that system.
This has everything to do with the
individual right of self-defense, as manifested in the libertarian rights
of resistance and revolution, and has nothing whatever to do with the
supposed need for a final arbiter.
Objectivists, if they are to remain true to
the theory of rights defended by Ayn Rand, must agree with anarchists that
the moral legitimacy of a particular government depends, not on the
subjective claims of that government, but on true measure of justice in
its legal system, as evaluated by objective criteria.
If a legal system is objectively just, then
its enforcement agency (whether governmental or private) may properly
restrain the "competition" of an unjust legal system, whether
implemented by a government or by a private agency. If, however, the
competitor also works within the framework of a just legal system (perhaps
differing from the other agency in optional matters of procedure), then
that competitor may not be forcibly restrained from entering into
contractual relationships with willing customers.
The logic of sovereignty argument is valid
only within a subjective theory of justice, where a coercive arbiter must
prevail in the absence of reason. In an objective theory of justice,
however, what appears to minarchists (mistakenly) as the logic of
sovereignty - i.e., the right forcibly to eliminate unjust agencies - has
in fact nothing to do with the supposed need for a final arbiter, but is
instead the application of an individual's right of self-defense.
Minarchists, after noting that an objective
theory of justice can generate the right to exclude competing agencies in some
cases (i.e., when the agency is unjust), erroneously conclude that this
right flows from political sovereignty. But sovereignty demands the
exclusion of competing agencies in all cases, even if the
competitor is far more just than the sovereign itself. Sovereignty, based
as it is on subjectivism, cannot logically discriminate between just and
unjust legal systems, so it transforms the de facto power of an existing
government into de jure sovereignty - operating, in effect, from the maxim
of Alexander Pope, "Whatever is, is right." This is why the
theory of sovereignty and its attendant absolutism have always denied the
rights of resistance and revolution.
A system of objective justice, on the other
hand, enables us to discriminate between the initiation of force and the
retaliatory use of force, thereby providing a rational method of assessing
any person, agency or government which claims to use legitimate violence.
Furthermore, a system of objective justice defines and sanctions the use
of defensive violence, which has traditionally been expressed in
libertarian theory as the rights of resistance and revolution.
These rights, which stem from the
individual right of self-defense, can justify the suppression of any
agency or government that seeks to impose an unjust legal system. And
though this suppression of "competition" may sometimes bear a
superficial resemblance to the sovereign suppression of all competition
(whether just or unjust), this should not mislead Objectivists and
libertarians into supposing that these two actions - one by a sovereign
government, the other by a private justice agency - are based on the same
mode of justification.
One (suppression by a sovereign government)
is rooted in political subjectivism (or relativism), and has no
relationship to the justice or injustice of the victimized agency. The
other (suppression by a justice agency) is rooted in political
objectivism, and is confined solely the suppression of unjust agencies and
governments. The former power is justified by political sovereignty, a
right that cannot be reduced to the rights of individuals. The latter
power is justified by the right of self-defense, a right that is possessed
equally by every individual and can be delegated (or not) to a specialized
agency. The former theory leads necessarily to absolutism and cannot be
reconciled with consent. The latter theory generates agencies whose power
is specifically limited by the consensual delegation of rights by
individuals.
As I have said before, we must ultimately
choose between state-sovereignty and self-sovereignty, between absolutism
and anarchy, between subjective decree and objective justice. There is no
middle ground in logic. The chickens of the Law of the Excluded Middle
have come home to roost. And they are fouling the minarchist nest.
LEGAL PLURALISM VS. STATE-SOVEREIGNTY IN
HISTORY
The lesson here is that power is always
dangerous, regardless of who wields it - be it a private protection agency
or a sovereign government.
As Acton said, "Power tends to
corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely." Even the rulers in
an ideal Objectivist society would be likely to abuse their power, and
would therefore require constant monitoring. (I ask you, who is more
likely to seek power in an Objectivist society - the Howard Roarks or the
Ellsworth Tooheys?) It was this concern about the abuse of power that led
Thomas Jefferson and others in his tradition to favor decentralization, a
system in which power is checked by other external powers.
This was the original idea behind
"limited government." A "limited government" was a
government whose power was limited, or checked, by another power external
to itself. Ultimately, according to Locke, Jefferson, and other
minarchists, the only effective check on sovereign power is the right of
the people to resist unjust laws and overthrow despotic governments. This
sovereign right of the people was the external check that imposed real
limits on a "limited government."
There are very good reasons to suppose that
legal pluralism would be more effective in preserving justice than legal
monism. The Western legal tradition, as many historians have pointed out,
was rooted in legal pluralism. Legal pluralism existed in Europe for many
centuries, until it was finally destroyed by rapacious and violent
monarchs. Medieval Europe had a complex network of political authorities,
legal systems and overlapping jurisdictions. There existed customary law,
the king's law, feudal law, municipal law, canon law, and so forth. What
some minarchists claim cannot exist, therefore, did in fact exist for many
centuries.
Moreover, as Voltaire, Lord Acton and other
liberal historians have argued, the Western World owes its liberty to the
conflict among these competing authorities. Neither the spiritual nor the
temporal authorities had libertarian intentions, but the ongoing
competition between these institutions gradually led to the development of
"intermediate" institutions (such as municipalities), as Pope
and Prince conceded various "liberties" and
"immunities" in an effort to win allies to their side. And it
was these intermediate institutions, not governments, which were largely
responsible for the freedom that is unique to the Western World.
A remarkable system of competing
governments also existed in America for many decades prior to the War for
Independence. The colonials came to regard their provincial governments as
independent and autonomous institutions that were necessary to check
British power. And the British government, in its turn, restrained the
power of the colonial assemblies. This situation resulted in a paralysis
of power (since neither government could do much) and in a great deal of
personal liberty.
Later, after the countervailing power of
Britain had been eliminated by a successful Revolution, the Constitution
established a powerful national government - which, as Madison proudly
announced during the Philadelphia Convention, was vested with greater
powers than even the British Parliament against which Americans "have
so lately rebelled."
This sentiment was seconded in The
Federalist Papers by Alexander Hamilton, who criticized the
fundamental principles of the American Revolution, called for their
repudiation by the American people, and advocated instead a Constitution
and monopolistic government that were based on a newer and more
sophisticated "science" of political sovereignty.
In just a few short years the decentralized
legal pluralism of pre-Revolutionary America had succumbed to the logic of
sovereignty and a powerful central government - those evil Siamese-twins
that are largely responsible for our present unhappy condition.
Consider two of the most powerful and
influential ideas in twentieth century politics: the notion of an
all-powerful State that is the sole arbiter of justice, and the notion of
an infallible general will that can force people to be free. The former
was the brainchild of Thomas Hobbes, the latter of J.J. Rousseau. Consider
also that it was these two philosophers of sovereignty who, more than
anyone else, separated sovereignty from its religious roots in the divine
right of kings, gave it a secular foundation, and unleashed the
"mortal god" of Leviathan on the Western World.
I don't defend anarchism because I ever
expect to see an anarchist society. (An anarchist America is almost as
unlikely as an Objectivist America.) But I do think we can effectively
combat statism with the right intellectual ammunition, and this includes
the total repudiation of political sovereignty in favor of individual
rights and voluntary institutions.
___________________
The address of this document:
http://www.ifi.uio.no/~thomas/po/rational-anarchism.html
Author's address:
smikro@earthlink.net
Index to the Post-Objectivism web site:
http://www.ifi.uio.no/~thomas/po/articles.html
_______________________________________________________________________
NOTES ON ANARCHISM
Noam Chomsky
Taken
from "For Reasons of State", 1970
See
more of Chomsky's reflections on Anarchism @ www.zmag.org/chomsky/interviews/
A
French writer, sympathetic to anarchism, wrote in the 1890s that
``anarchism has a broad back, like paper it endures
anything''---including, he noted those whose acts are such that ``a
mortal enemy of anarchism could not have done better.''[1] There have
been many styles of thought and action that have been referred to as
``anarchist.'' It would be hopeless to try to encompass all of these
conflicting tendencies in some general theory or ideology. And even if
we proceed to extract from the history of libertarian thought a living,
evolving tradition, as Daniel Guerin does in Anarchism, it remains
difficult to formulate its doctrines as a specific and determinate
theory of society and social change. The anarchist historian Rudolph
Rocker, who presents a systematic conception of the development of
anarchist thought towards anarchosyndicalism, along lines that bear
comparison to Guerins work, puts the matter well when he writes that
anarchism is not "a fixed, self-enclosed social system but rather a
definite trend in the historic development of mankind, which, in
contrast with the intellectual guardianship of all clerical and
governmental institutions, strives for the free unhindered unfolding of
all the individual and social forces in life. Even freedom is only a
relative, not an absolute concept, since it tends constantly to become
broader and to affect wider circles in more manifold ways.
For
the anarchist, freedom is not an abstract philosophical concept, but the
vital concrete possibility for every human being to bring to full
development all the powers, capacities, and talents with which nature
has endowed him, and turn them to social account. The less this natural
development of man is influenced by ecclesiastical or political
guardianship, the more efficient and harmonious will human personality
become, the more will it become the measure of the intellectual culture
of the society in which it has grown. [2]
One
might ask what value there is in studying a ``definite trend in the
historic development of mankind'' that does not articulate a specific
and detailed social theory. Indeed, many commentators dismiss anarchism
as utopian, formless, primitive, or otherwise incompatible with the
realities of a complex society. One might, however, argue rather
differently: that at every stage of history our concern must be to
dismantle those forms of authority and oppression that survive from an
era when they might have been justified in terms of the need for
security or survival or economic development, but that now contribute
to- rather than alleviate- material and cultural deficit. If so, there
will be no doctrine of social change fixed for the present and future,
nor even, necessarily, a specific and unchanging concept of the goals
towards which social change should tend. Surely our understanding of the
nature of man or of the range of viable social forms is so rudimentary
that any far-reaching doctrine must be treated with great skepticism,
just as skepticism is in order when we hear that ``human nature'' or
``the demands of efficiency'' or ``the complexity of modern life''
requires this or that form of oppression and autocratic rule.
Nevertheless, at a particular time there is every reason to develop,
insofar as our understanding permits, a specific realization of this
definite trend in the historic development of mankind, appropriate to
the tasks of the moment. For Rocker, ``the problem that is set for our
time is that of freeing man from the curse of economic exploitation and
political and social enslavement''; and the method is not the conquest
and exercise of state power, nor stultifying parliamentarianism, but
rather ``to reconstruct the economic life of the peoples from the ground
up and build it up in the spirit of Socialism.'' But only the producers
themselves are fitted for this task, since they are the only
value-creating element in society out of which a new future can arise.
Theirs must be the task of freeing labor from all the fetters which
economic exploitation has fastened on it, of freeing society from all
the institutions and procedure of political power, and of opening the
way to an alliance of free groups of men and women based on co-operative
labor and a planned administration of things in the interest of the
community.
To
prepare the toiling masses in the city and country for this great goal
and to bind them together as a militant force is the objective of modern
Anarcho-syndicalism, and in this its whole purpose is exhausted. [p 108]
As a socialist, Rocker would take for granted ``that the serious, final,
complete liberation of the workers is possible only upon one condition:
that of the appropriation of capital, that is, of raw material and all
the tools of labor, including land, by the whole body of the workers.''
[3] As an anarchosyndicalist, he insists, further, that the workers'
organizations create ``not only the ideas, but also the facts of the
future itself'' in the prerevolutionary period, that they embody in
themselves the structure of the future society- and he looks forward to
a social revolution that will dismantle the state apparatus as well as
expropriate the expropriators. ``What we put in place of the government
is industrial organization.'' Anarcho-syndicalists are convinced that a
Socialist economic order cannot be created by the decrees and statutes
of a government, but only by the solidaric collaboration of the workers
with hand and brain in each special branch of production; that is,
through the taking over of the management of all plants by the producers
themselves under such form that the separate groups, plants, and
branches of industry are independent members of the general economic
organism and systematically carry on production and the distribution of
the products in the interest of the community on the basis of free
mutual agreements. [p 94]
Rocker
was writing at a moment when such ideas had been put into practice in a
dramatic way in the Spanish Revolution. Just prior to the outbreak of
the revolution, the anarchosyndicalist economist Diego Abad de Santillan
had written: ...in facing the problem of social transformation, the
Revolution cannot consider the state as a medium, but must depend on the
organization of producers. We have followed this norm and we find no
need for the hypothesis of a superior power to organized labor, in order
to establish a new order of things.
We
would thank anyone to point out to us what function, if any, the State
can have in an economic organization, where private property has been
abolished and in which parasitism and special privilege have no place.
The suppression of the State cannot be a languid affair; it must be the
task of the Revolution to finish with the State. Either the Revolution
gives social wealth to the producers in which case the producers
organize themselves for due collective distribution and the State has
nothing to do; or the Revolution does not give social wealth to the
producers, in which case the Revolution has been a lie and the State
would continue.
Our
federal council of economy is not a political power but an economic and
administrative regulating power. It receives its orientation from below
and operates in accordance with the resolutions of the regional and
national assemblies. It is a liaison corps and nothing else. [4] Engels,
in a letter of 1883, expressed his disagreement with this conception as
follows: The anarchists put the thing upside down. They declare that the
proletarian revolution must begin by doing away with the political
organization of the state....But to destroy it at such a moment would be
to destroy the only organism by means of which the victorious
proletariat can assert its newly-conquered power, hold down its
capitalist adversaries, and carry out that economic revolution of
society without which the whole victory must end in a new defeat and a
mass slaughter of the workers similar to those after the Paris commune.
[5] In contrast, the anarchists---most eloquently Bakunin---warned of
the dangers of the ``red bureaucracy,'' which would prove to be ``the
most vile and terrible lie that our century has created.'' [6] The
anarchosyndicalist Fernand Pelloutier asked: ``Must even the transitory
state to which we have to submit necessarily and fatally be a
collectivist jail? Can't it consist in a free organization limited
exclusively by the needs of production and consumption, all political
institutions having disappeared?'' [7] I do not pretend to know the
answers to this question. But it seems clear that unless there is, in
some form, a positive answer, the chances for a truly democratic
revolution that will achieve the humanistic ideals of the left are not
great. Martin Buber put the problem succinctly when he wrote: ``One
cannot in the nature of things expect a little tree that has been turned
into a club to put forth leaves.'' [8]
The
question of conquest or destruction of state power is what Bakunin
regarded as the primary issue dividing him from Marx. [9] In one form or
another, the problem has arisen repeatedly in the century since,
dividing ``libertarian'' from ``authoritarian'' socialists. Despite
Bakunin's warnings about the red bureaucracy, and their fulfillment
under Stalin's dictatorship, it would obviously be a gross error in
interpreting the debates of a century ago to rely on the claims of
contemporary social movements as to their historical origins. In
particular, it is perverse to regard Bolshevism as ``Marxism in
practice.'' Rather, the left-wing critique of Bolshevism, taking account
of the historical circumstances surrounding the Russian Revolution, is
far more to the point. [10] The anti-Bolshevik, left-wing labor movement
opposed the Leninists because they did not go far enough in exploiting
the Russian upheavals for strictly proletarian ends. They became
prisoners of their environment and used the international radical
movement to satisfy specifically Russian needs, which soon became
synonymous with the needs of the Bolshevik Party-State. The
``bourgeois'' aspects of the Russian Revolution were now discovered in
Bolshevism itself: Leninism was adjudged a part of international
social-democracy, differing from the latter only on tactical issues.
[11]
If
one were to seek a single leading idea within the anarchist tradition,
it should, I believe, be that expressed by Bakunin when, in writing on
the Paris Commune, he identified himself as follows: I am a fanatic
lover of liberty, considering it as the unique condition under which
intelligence, dignity and human happiness can develop and grow; not the
purely formal liberty conceded, measured out and regulated by the State,
an eternal lie which in reality represents nothing more than the
privilege of some founded on the slavery of the rest; not the
individualistic, egoistic, shabby, and fictitious liberty extolled by
the School of J.-J. Rousseau and other schools of bourgeois liberalism,
which considers the would-be rights of all men, represented by the State
which limits the rights of each- an idea that leads inevitably to the
reduction of the rights of each to zero. No, I mean the only kind of
liberty that is worthy of the name, liberty that consists in the full
development of all the material, intellectual and moral powers that are
latent in each person; liberty that recognizes no restrictions other
than those determined by the laws of our own individual nature, which
cannot properly be regarded as restrictions since these laws are not
imposed by any outside legislator beside or above us, but are immanent
and inherent, forming the very basis of our material, intellectual and
moral being- they do not limit us but are the real and immediate
conditions of our freedom. [12]
These
ideas grew out of the Enlightenment; their roots are in Rousseau's
Discourse on Inequality, Humboldt's Limits of State Action, Kant's
insistence, in his defense of the French Revolution, that freedom is the
precondition for acquiring the maturity for freedom, not a gift to be
granted when such maturity is achieved. With the development of
industrial capitalism, a new and unanticipated system of injustice, it
is libertarian socialism that has preserved and extended the radical
humanist message of the Enlightenment and the classical liberal ideals
that were perverted into an ideology to sustain the emerging social
order. In fact, on the very same assumptions that led classical
liberalism to oppose the intervention of the state in social life,
capitalist social relations are also intolerable. This is clear, for
example, from the classic work of Humboldt, The Limits of State Action,
which anticipated and perhaps inspired Mill. This classic of liberal
thought, completed in 1792, is in its essence profoundly, though
prematurely, anticapitalist. Its ideas must be attenuated beyond
recognition to be transmuted into an ideology of industrial capitalism.
Humboldt's vision of a society in which social fetters are replaced by
social bonds and labor is freely undertaken suggests the early Marx.,
with his discussion of the ``alienation of labor when work is external
to the worker...not part of his nature... [so that] he does not fulfill
himself in his work but denies himself... [and is] physically exhausted
and mentally debased,'' alienated labor that ``casts some of the workers
back into a barbarous kind of work and turns others into machines,''
thus depriving man of his ``species character'' of ``free conscious
activity'' and ``productive life.'' Similarly, Marx conceives of ``a new
type of human being who needs his fellow men... [The workers'
association becomes] the real constructive effort to create the social
texture of future human relations.'' [13]
t
is true that classical libertarian thought is opposed to state
intervention in social life, as a consequence of deeper assumptions
about the human need for liberty, diversity, and free association. On
the same assumptions, capitalist relations of production, wage labor,
competitiveness, the ideology of ``possessive individualism''- all must
be regarded as fundamentally antihuman. Libertarian socialism is
properly to be regarded as the inheritor of the liberal ideals of the
Enlightenment. Rudolf Rocker describes modern anarchism as ``the
confluence of the two great currents which during and since the French
revolution have found such characteristic expression in the intellectual
life of Europe: Socialism and Liberalism.'' The classical liberal
ideals, he argues, were wrecked on the realities of capitalist economic
forms. Anarchism is necessarily anticapitalist in that it ``opposes the
exploitation of man by man.'' But anarchism also opposes ``the dominion
of man over man.'' It insists that ``socialism will be free or it will
not be at all. In its recognition of this lies the genuine and profound
justification for the existence of anarchism.''[14] From this point of
view, anarchism may be regarded as the libertarian wing of socialism. It
is in this spirit that Daniel Guérin has approached the study
of anarchism in Anarchism and other works.[15] Guérin quotes
Adolph Fischer, who said that ``every anarchist is a socialist but not
every socialist is necessarily an anarchist.'' Similarly Bakunin, in his
``anarchist manifesto'' of 1865, the program of his projected
international revolutionary fraternity, laid down the principle that
each member must be, to begin with, a socialist.
A
consistent anarchist must oppose private ownership of the means of
production and the wage slavery which is a component of this system, as
incompatible with the principle that labor must be freely undertaken and
under the control of the producer. As Marx put it, socialists look
forward to a society in which labor will ``become not only a means of
life, but also the highest want in life,'' [16] an impossibility when
the worker is driven by external authority or need rather than inner
impulse: ``no form of wage-labor, even though one may be less obnoxious
that another, can do away with the misery of wage-labor itself.'' [17] A
consistent anarchist must oppose not only alienated labor but also the
stupefying specialization of labor that takes place when the means for
developing production mutilate the worker into a fragment of a human
being, degrade him to become a mere appurtenance of the machine, make
his work such a torment that its essential meaning is destroyed;
estrange from him the intellectual potentialities of the labor process
in very proportion to the extent to which science is incorporated into
it as an independent power... [18] Marx saw this not as an inevitable
concomitant of industrialization, but rather as a feature of capitalist
relations of production.
The
society of the future must be concerned to ``replace the detail-worker
of today...reduced to a mere fragment of a man, by the fully developed
individual, fit for a variety of labours...to whom the different social
functions...are but so many modes of giving free scope to his own
natural powers.'' [19] The prerequisite is the abolition of capital and
wage labor as social categories (not to speak of the industrial armies
of the ``labor state'' or the various modern forms of totalitarianism
since capitalism).
The
reduction of man to an appurtenance of the machine, a specialized tool
of production, might in principle be overcome, rather than enhanced,
with the proper development and use of technology, but not under the
conditions of autocratic control of production by those who make man an
instrument to serve their ends, overlooking his individual purposes, in
Humboldt's phrase.
Anarchosyndicalists
sought, even under capitalism, to create ``free associations of free
producers'' that would engage in militant struggle and prepare to take
over the organization of production on a democratic basis. These
associations would serve as ``a practical school of anarchism.'' [20] If
private ownership of the means of production is, in Proudhon's often
quoted phrase, merely a form of ``theft''- ``the exploitation of the
weak by the strong'' [21]- control of production by a state bureaucracy,
no matter how benevolent its intentions, also does not create the
conditions under which labor, manual and intellectual, can become the
highest want in life. Both, then, must be overcome. In his attack on the
right of private or bureaucratic control over the means of production,,
the anarchist takes his stand with those who struggle to bring about
``the third and last emancipatory phase of history,'' the first having
made serfs out of slaves, the second having made wage earners out of
serfs, and the third which abolishes the proletariat in a final act of
liberation that places control over the economy in the hands of free and
voluntary associations of producers (Fourier, 1848.) [22] The imminent
danger to ``civilization'' was noted by de Tocqueville, also in 1848: As
long as the right of property was the origin and groundwork of many
other rights, it was easily defended---or rather it was not attacked; it
was then the citadel of society while all the other rights were its
outworks; it did not bear the brunt of attack and, indeed, there was no
serious attempt to assail it. but today, when the right of property is
regarded as the last undestroyed remnant of the aristocratic world, when
it alone is left standing, the sole privilege in an equalized society,
it is a different matter.
Consider
what is happening in the hearts of the working-classes, although I admit
they are quiet as yet. It is true that they are less inflamed than
formerly by political passions properly speaking; but do you not see
that their passions, far from being political, have become social? Do
you not see that, little by little, ideas and opinions are spreading
amongst them which aim not merely at removing such and such laws, such a
ministry or such a government, but at breaking up the very foundations
of society itself?[23] The workers of Paris, in 1871, broke the silence,
and proceeded to abolish property, the basis of all civilization! Yes,
gentlemen, the Commune intended to abolish that class property which
makes the labor of the many the wealth of the few. It aimed at the
expropriation of the expropriators. It wanted to make individual
property a truth by transforming the means of production, land and
capital, now chiefly the means of enslaving and exploiting labor, into
mere instruments of free and associated labor. [24] The Commune, of
course, was drowned in blood. The nature of the ``civilization'' that
the workers of Paris sought to overcome in their attack on ``the very
foundations of society itself'' was revealed, once again, when the
troops of the Versailles government reconquered Paris from its
population.
As
Marx wrote, bitterly but accurately: The civilization and justice of
bourgeois order comes out in its lurid light whenever the slaves and
drudges of that order rise against their masters. Then this civilization
and justice stand forth as undisguised savagery and lawless revenge...
the infernal deeds of the soldiery reflect the innate spirit of that
civilization of which they are the mercenary vindicators... The
bourgeoisie of the whole world, which looks complacently upon the
wholesale massacre after the battle, is convulsed by horror at the
destruction of brick and mortar. [Ibid., pp 74, 77] Despite the violent
destruction of the Commune, Bakunin wrote that Paris opens a new era,
``that of the definitive and complete emancipation of the popular masses
and their future true solidarity, across and despite state
boundaries...the next revolution of man, international in solidarity,
will be the resurrection of Paris''- a revolution that the world still
awaits.
The
consistent anarchist, then, should be a socialist, but a socialist of a
particular sort. He will not only oppose alienated and specialized labor
and look forward to the appropriation of capital by the whole body of
workers, but he will also insist that this appropriation be direct, not
exercised by some elite force acting in the name of the proletariat. He
will, in short, oppose the organization of production by the Government.
It means State-socialism, the command of the State officials over
production and the command of managers, scientists, shop-officials in
the shop... The goal of the working class is liberation from
exploitation. This goal is not reached and cannot be reached by a new
directing and governing class substituting itself for the bourgeoisie.
It is only realized by the workers themselves being master over
production. These remarks are taken from ``Five Theses on the Class
Struggle'' by the left-wing Marxist Anton Pannekoek, one of the
outstanding left theorists of the council communist movement. And in
fact, radical Marxism merges with anarchist currents. As a further
illustration, consider the following characterization of ``revolutionary
Socialism'': The revolutionary Socialist denies that State ownership can
end in anything other than a bureaucratic despotism.
We
have seen why the State cannot democratically control industry. Industry
can only be democratically owned and controlled by the workers electing
directly from their own ranks industrial administrative committees.
Socialism will be fundamentally an industrial system; its constituencies
will be of an industrial character. Thus those carrying on the social
activities and industries of society will be directly represented in the
local and central councils of social administration. In this way the
powers of such delegates will flow upwards from those carrying on the
work and conversant with the needs of the community. When the central
administrative industrial committee meets it will represent every phase
of social activity. Hence the capitalist political or geographical state
will be replaced by the industrial administrative committee of
Socialism.
The
transition from the one social system to the other will be the social
revolution. The political State throughout history has meant the
government of men by ruling classes; the Republic of Socialism will be
the government of industry administered on behalf of the whole
community. The former meant the economic and political subjection of the
many; the latter will mean the economic freedom of all- it will be,
therefore, a true democracy. This programmatic statement appears in
William Paul's The State, its Origins and Functions, written in early
1917- shortly before Lenin's State and Revolution, perhaps his most
libertarian work (see note 9). Paul was a member of the Marxist-De
Leonist Socialist Labor Party and later one of the founders of the
British Communist Party. [25] His critique of state socialism resembles
the libertarian doctrine of the anarchists in its principle that since
state ownership and management will lead to bureaucratic despotism, the
social revolution must replace it by the industrial organization of
society with direct workers' control. Many similar statements can be
cited. What is far more important is that these ideas have been realized
in spontaneous revolutionary action, for example in Germany and Italy
after World War I and in Spain (not only in the agricultural
countryside, but also in industrial Barcelona) in 1936.
One
might argue that some form of council communism is the natural form of
revolutionary socialism in an industrial society. It reflects the
intuitive understanding that democracy is severely limited when the
industrial system is controlled by any form of autocratic elite, whether
of owners, managers and technocrats, a ``vanguard'' party, or a state
bureaucracy. Under these conditions of authoritarian domination the
classical libertarian ideals developed further by Marx and Bakunin and
all true revolutionaries cannot be realized; man will not be free to
develop his own potentialities to their fullest, and the producer will
remain ``a fragment of a human being,'' degraded, a tool in the
productive process directed from above.
The
phrase ``spontaneous revolutionary action'' can be misleading. The
anarchosyndicalists, at least, took very seriously Bakunin's remark that
the workers' organizations must create ``not only the ideas but also the
facts of the future itself'' in the prerevolutionary period. The
accomplishments of the popular revolution in Spain, in particular, were
based on the patient work of many years of organization and education,
one component of a long tradition of commitment and militancy. The
resolutions of the Madrid Congress of June 1931 and the Saragossa
Congress in May 1936 foreshadowed in many ways the acts of the
revolution, as did the somewhat different ideas sketched by Santillan
(see note 4) in his fairly specific account of the social and economic
organization to be instituted by the revolution. Guérin writes
``The Spanish revolution was relatively mature in the minds of
libertarian thinkers, as in the popular consciousness.'' And workers'
organizations existed with the structure, the experience, and the
understanding to undertake the task of social reconstruction when, with
the Franco coup, the turmoil of early 1936 exploded into social
revolution. In his introduction to a collection of documents on
collectivization in Spain, the anarchist Augustin Souchy writes: For
many years, the anarchists and the syndicalists of Spain considered
their supreme task to be the social transformation of the society. In
their assemblies of Syndicates and groups, in their journals, their
brochures and books, the problem of the social revolution was discussed
incessantly and in a systematic fashion.[26] All of this lies behind the
spontaneous achievements, the constructive work of the Spanish
Revolution.
The
ideas of libertarian socialism, in the sense described, have been
submerged in the industrial societies of the past half-century. The
dominant ideologies have been those of state socialism or state
capitalism (of increasingly militarized character in the United States,
for reasons that are not obscure.) [27] But there has been a rekindling
of interest in the past few years. The theses I quoted by Anton
Pannekoek were taken from a recent pamphlet of a radical French workers'
group (Informations Correspondance Ouvrière). The remarks by
William Paul on revolutionary socialism are cited in a paper by Walter
Kendall given at the National Conference on Workers' Control in
Sheffield, England, in March 1969.
The
workers' control movement has become a significant force in England in
the past few years. It has organized several conferences and has
produced a substantial pamphlet literature, and counts among its active
adherents representatives of some of the most important trade unions.
The Amalgamated Engineering and Foundryworkers' Union, for example, has
adopted, as official policy, the program of nationalization of basic
industries under ``workers' control at all levels.''[28] On the
Continent, there are similar developments. May 1968 of course
accelerated the growing interest in council communism and related ideas
in France and Germany, as it did in England.
Given
the highly conservative cast of our highly ideological society, it is
not too surprising that the United States has been relatively untouched
by these developments. But that too may change. The erosion of cold-war
mythology at least makes it possible to raise these questions in fairly
broad circles. If the present wave of repression can be beaten back, if
the left can overcome its more suicidal tendencies and build upon what
has been accomplished in the past decade, then the problem of how to
organize industrial society on truly democratic lines, with democratic
control in the workplace and in the community, should become a dominant
intellectual issue for those who are alive to the problems of
contemporary society, and, as a mass movement for libertarian socialism
develops, speculation should proceed to action. In his manifesto of
1865, Bakunin predicted that one element in the social revolution will
be ``that intelligent and truly noble part of youth which, though
belonging by birth to the privileged classes, in its generous
convictions and ardent aspirations, adopts the cause of the people.''
Perhaps in the rise of the student movement of the 1960s one sees steps
towards a fulfillment of this prophecy. Daniel Guérin has
undertaken what he has described as a ``process of rehabilitation'' of
anarchism. He argues, convincingly I believe, that ``the constructive
ideas of anarchism retain their vitality, that they may, when
re-examined and sifted, assist contemporary socialist thought to
undertake a new departure...[and] contribute to enriching Marxism.''[29]
>From the ``broad back'' of anarchism he has selected for more
intensive scrutiny those ideas and actions that can be described as
libertarian socialist. This is natural and proper. This framework
accommodates the major anarchist spokesmen as well as the mass actions
that have been animated by anarchist sentiments and ideals. Guérin
is concerned not only with anarchist thought but also with the
spontaneous actions of popular revolutionary struggle. He is concerned
with social as well as intellectual creativity. Furthermore, he attempts
to draw from the constructive achievements of the past lessons that will
enrich the theory of social liberation.
For
those who wish not only to understand the world, but also to change it,
this is the proper way to study the history of anarchism. Guérin
describes the anarchism of the nineteenth century as essentially
doctrinal, while the twentieth century, for the anarchists, has been a
time of ``revolutionary practice.''[30] Anarchism reflects that
judgment. His interpretation of anarchism consciously points toward the
future. Arthur Rosenberg once pointed out that popular revolutions
characteristically seek to replace ``a feudal or centralized authority
ruling by force'' with some form of communal system which ``implies the
destruction and disappearance of the old form of State.'' Such a system
will be either socialist or an ``extreme form of democracy...[which is]
the preliminary condition for Socialism inasmuch as Socialism can only
be realized in a world enjoying the highest possible measure of
individual freedom.'' This ideal, he notes, was common to Marx and the
anarchists.[31] This natural struggle for liberation runs counter to the
prevailing tendency towards centralization in economic and political
life. A century ago Marx wrote that the workers of Paris ``felt there
was but one alternative---the Commune, or the empire---under whatever
name it might reappear.'' The empire had ruined them economically by the
havoc it made of public wealth, by the wholesale financial swindling it
fostered, by the props it lent to the artificially accelerated
centralization of capital, and the concomitant expropriation of their
own ranks. It had suppressed them politically, it had shocked them
morally by its orgies, it had insulted their Voltairianism by handing
over the education of their children to the frères Ignorantins,
it had revolted their national feeling as Frenchmen by precipitating
them headlong into a war which left only one equivalent for the ruins it
made- the disappearance of the empire.[32] The miserable Second Empire
``was the only form of government possible at a time when the
bourgeoisie had already lost, and the working class had not yet
acquired, the faculty of ruling the nation.'' It is not very difficult
to rephrase these remarks so that they become appropriate to the
imperial systems of 1970.
The
problem of ``freeing man from the curse of economic exploitation and
political and social enslavement'' remains the problem of our time. As
long as this is so, the doctrines and the revolutionary practice of
libertarian socialism will serve as an inspiration and guide. Footnotes
[1] Octave Mirbeau, quoted in James Joll, The Anarchists, pp 145-6. [2]
Rudolf Rocker, Anarcho syndicalism, p 31. [3] Cited by Rocker, ibid., p
77. This quotation and that in the next sentence are from Michael
Bakunin, ``The Program of the Alliance,'' in Sam Dolgoff, ed. and
trans., Bakunin on Anarchy, p 255. [4] Diego Abad de Santillan, After
the Revolution, p 86. In the last chapter, written several months after
the revolution had begun, he expresses his dissatisfaction with what had
so far been achieved along these lines. On the accomplishments of the
social revolution in Spain, see my American Power and the New Mandarins,
chap. 1, and references cited there; the important study by Broué and
Témime has since been translated into English. Several other
important studies have appeared since, in particular: Frank Mintz,
L'Autogestion dans l'Espagne révolutionaire (Paris: Editions
Bélibaste, 1971); César M. Lorenzo, Les Anarchistes
espagnols et le pouvoir, 1868-1969 (Paris: Editions du Seuil, 1969);
Gaston Leval, Espagne libertaire, 1936-1939: L'Oeuvre constructive de la
Révolution espagnole (Paris: Editions du Cercle, 1971). See
also Vernon Richards, Lessons of the Spanish Revolution, enlarged 1972
edition. [5] Cited by Robert C. Tucker, The Marxian Revolutionary Idea,
in his discussion of Marxism and anarchism. [6] Bakunin, in a letter to
Herzen and Ogareff, 1866. Cited by Daniel Guérin, Jeunesse du
socialisme libertaire, p 119. [7] Fernand Pelloutier, cited in Joll,
Anarchists. The source is ``L'Anarchisme et les syndicats ouvriers,''
Les Temps nouveaux, 1895. The full text appears in Daniel Guérin,
ed., Ni Dieu, ni Maître, an excellent historical anthology of
anarchism. [8]
Martin
Buber, Paths in Utopia, p 127. [9] ``No state, however democratic,''
Bakunin wrote, ``not even the reddest republic---can ever give the
people what they really want, i.e., the free self-organization and
administration of their own affairs from the bottom upward, without any
interference or violence from above, because every state, even the
pseudo-People's State concocted by Mr. Marx, is in essence only a
machine ruling the masses from above, from a privileged minority of
conceited intellectuals, who imagine that they know what the people need
and want better than do the people themselves....'' ``But the people
will feel no better if the stick with which they are being beaten is
labeled `the people's stick' '' (Statism and Anarchy [1873], in Dolgoff,
Bakunin on Anarchy, p 338) -``the people's stick'' being the democratic
Republic. Marx, of course, saw the matter differently. For discussion of
the impact of the Paris Commune on this dispute, see Daniel Guérin's
comments in Ni Dieu, ni Maître; these also appear, slightly
extended, in his Pour un marxisme libertaire. See also note 24. [10] On
Lenin's ``intellectual deviation'' to the left during 1917, see Robert
Vincent Daniels, ``The State and Revolution: a Case Study in the Genesis
and Transformation of Communist Ideology,'' American Slavic and East
European Review, vol 12, no 1 (1953). [11] Paul Mattick, Marx and
Keynes, p 295. [12] Michael Bakunin, ``La Commune de Paris et la notion
de l'état,'' reprinted in Guérin, Ni Dieu, ni
Maître. Bakunin's final remark on the laws of individual nature
as the condition of freedom can be compared to the creative thought
developed in the rationalist and romantic traditions. See my Cartesian
Linguistics and Language and Mind. [13] Shlomo Avineri, The Social and
Political Thought of Karl Marx, p 142, referring to comments in The Holy
Family. Avineri states that within the socialist movement only the
Israeli kibbutzim ``have perceived that the modes and forms of present
social organization will determine the structure of future society.''
This, however, was a characteristic position of anarchosyndicalism, as
noted earlier. [14] Rocker, Anarcho syndicalism, p 28. [15] See Guérin's
works cited earlier. [16] Karl Marx, Critique of the Gotha Programme.
[17] Karl Marx, Grundrisse der Kritik der Politischen Ökonomie,
cited by Mattick, Marx and Keynes, p 306. In this connection, see also
Mattick's essay ``Workers' Control,'' in Priscilla Long, ed., The New
Left; and Avineri, Social and Political Thought of Marx. [18] Karl Marx,
Capital, quoted by Robert Tucker, who rightly emphasizes that Marx sees
the revolutionary more as a ``frustrated producer'' than a
``dissatisfied consumer'' (The Marxian Revolutionary Idea). This more
radical critique of capitalist relations of production is a direct
outgrowth of the libertarian thought of the Enlightenment. [19] Marx,
Capital, cited by Avineri, Social and Political Thought of Marx, p 83.
[20] Pelloutier, ``L'Anarchisme.'' [21] ``Qu'est-ce que la propriété?''
The
phrase ``property is theft'' displeased Marx, who saw in its use a
logical problem, theft presupposing the legitimate existence of
property. See Avineri, Social and Political Thought of Marx. [22] Cited
in Buber's Paths in Utopia, p 19. [23] Cited in J. Hampden Jackson,
Marx, Proudhon and European Socialism, p 60. [24] Karl Marx, The Civil
War in France, p 24. Avineri observes that this and other comments of
Marx about the Commune refer pointedly to intentions and plans. As Marx
made plain elsewhere, his considered assessment was more critical than
in this address. [25] For some background, see Walter Kendall, The
Revolutionary Movement in Britain. [26] Collectivisations: L'Oeuvre
constructive de la Révolution espagnole, p 8. [27] For
discussion, see Mattick, Marx and Keynes, and Michael Kidron, Western
Capitalism Since the War. See also discussion and references cited in my
At War With Asia, chapter 1, pp 23-6. [28] See Hugh Scanlon, The Way
Forward for Workers' Control. Scanlon is the president of the AEF, one
of Britain's largest trade unions. The institute was established as a
result of the sixth Conference on Workers' Control, March 1968, and
serves as a center for disseminating information and encouraging
research. [29] Guérin, Ni Dieu, ni Maître,
introduction. [30] Ibid. [31] Arthur Rosenberg, A History of Bolshevism,
p 88. [32] Marx, Civil War in France, pp 62-3.
__________________________________________________________________________________
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