The emotions of the ignorant man are continuously kept at a pitch by

the most blood-curdling stories about Anarchism. Not a thing too

outrageous to be employed against this philosophy and its exponents.

Therefore Anarchism represents to the unthinking what the proverbial

bad man does to the child,--a black monster bent on swallowing

everything; in short, destruction and violence.

Destruction and violence! How is the ordinary man to know that the

most violent element in society is ignorance; that its power of

destruction is the very thing Anarchism is combating? Nor is he

aware that Anarchism, whose roots, as it were, are part of nature's

forces, destroys, not healthful tissue, but parasitic growths that

feed on the life's essence of society. It is merely clearing the

soil from weeds and sagebrush, that it may eventually bear healthy

fruit.

Someone has said that it requires less mental effort to condemn than

to think. The widespread mental indolence, so prevalent in society,

proves this to be only too true. Rather than to go to the bottom of

any given idea, to examine into its origin and meaning, most people

will either condemn it altogether, or rely on some superficial or

prejudicial definition of non-essentials.

Anarchism urges man to think, to investigate, to analyze every

proposition; but that the brain capacity of the average reader be not

taxed too much, I also shall begin with a definition, and then

elaborate on the latter.

ANARCHISM:--The philosophy of a new social order based on

liberty unrestricted by man-made law; the theory that all

forms of government rest on violence, and are therefore wrong

and harmful, as well as unnecessary.

The new social order rests, of course, on the materialistic basis of

life; but while all Anarchists agree that the main evil today is an

economic one, they maintain that the solution of that evil can be

brought about only through the consideration of EVERY PHASE of

life,--individual, as well as the collective; the internal, as well

as the external phases.

A thorough perusal of the history of human development will disclose

two elements in bitter conflict with each other; elements that are

only now beginning to be understood, not as foreign to each other,

but as closely related and truly harmonious, if only placed in proper

environment: the individual and social instincts. The individual and

society have waged a relentless and bloody battle for ages, each

striving for supremacy, because each was blind to the value and

importance of the other. The individual and social instincts,--the

one a most potent factor for individual endeavor, for growth,

aspiration, self-realization; the other an equally potent factor for

mutual helpfulness and social well-being.

The explanation of the storm raging within the individual, and

between him and his surroundings, is not far to seek. The primitive

man, unable to understand his being, much less the unity of all life,

felt himself absolutely dependent on blind, hidden forces ever ready

to mock and taunt him. Out of that attitude grew the religious

concepts of man as a mere speck of dust dependent on superior powers

on high, who can only be appeased by complete surrender. All the

early sagas rest on that idea, which continues to be the LEIT-MOTIF

of the biblical tales dealing with the relation of man to God, to the

State, to society. Again and again the same motif, MAN IS NOTHING,

THE POWERS ARE EVERYTHING. Thus Jehovah would only endure man on

condition of complete surrender. Man can have all the glories of the

earth, but he must not become conscious of himself. The State,

society, and moral laws all sing the same refrain: Man can have all

the glories of the earth, but he must not become conscious of

himself.

Anarchism is the only philosophy which brings to man the

consciousness of himself; which maintains that God, the State, and

society are non-existent, that their promises are null and void,

since they can be fulfilled only through man's subordination.

Anarchism is therefore the teacher of the unity of life; not merely

in nature, but in man. There is no conflict between the individual

and the social instincts, any more than there is between the heart

and the lungs: the one the receptacle of a precious life essence, the

other the repository of the element that keeps the essence pure and

strong. The individual is the heart of society, conserving the

essence of social life; society is the lungs which are distributing

the element to keep the life essence--that is, the individual--pure

and strong.

"The one thing of value in the world," says Emerson, "is the active

soul; this every man contains within him. The soul active sees

absolute truth and utters truth and creates." In other words, the

individual instinct is the thing of value in the world. It is the

true soul that sees and creates the truth alive, out of which is to

come a still greater truth, the re-born social soul.

Anarchism is the great liberator of man from the phantoms that have

held him captive; it is the arbiter and pacifier of the two forces

for individual and social harmony. To accomplish that unity,

Anarchism has declared war on the pernicious influences which have so

far prevented the harmonious blending of individual and social

instincts, the individual and society.

Religion, the dominion of the human mind; Property, the dominion of

human needs; and Government, the dominion of human conduct, represent

the stronghold of man's enslavement and all the horrors it entails.

Religion! How it dominates man's mind, how it humiliates and degrades

his soul. God is everything, man is nothing, says religion. But out

of that nothing God has created a kingdom so despotic, so tyrannical,

so cruel, so terribly exacting that naught but gloom and tears and

blood have ruled the world since gods began. Anarchism rouses man to

rebellion against this black monster. Break your mental fetters, says

Anarchism to man, for not until you think and judge for yourself will

you get rid of the dominion of darkness, the greatest obstacle to all

progress.

Property, the dominion of man's needs, the denial of the right to

satisfy his needs. Time was when property claimed a divine right,

when it came to man with the same refrain, even as religion,

"Sacrifice! Abnegate! Submit!" The spirit of Anarchism has lifted

man from his prostrate position. He now stands erect, with his face

toward the light. He has learned to see the insatiable, devouring,

devastating nature of property, and he is preparing to strike the

monster dead.

"Property is robbery," said the great French Anarchist, Proudhon.

Yes, but without risk and danger to the robber. Monopolizing the

accumulated efforts of man, property has robbed him of his

birthright, and has turned him loose a pauper and an outcast.

Property has not even the time-worn excuse that man does not create

enough to satisfy all needs. The A B C student of economics knows

that the productivity of labor within the last few decades far

exceeds normal demand a hundredfold. But what are normal demands to

an abnormal institution? The only demand that property recognizes is

its own gluttonous appetite for greater wealth, because wealth means

power; the power to subdue, to crush, to exploit, the power to

enslave, to outrage, to degrade. America is particularly boastful of

her great power, her enormous national wealth. Poor America, of what

avail is all her wealth, if the individuals comprising the nation are

wretchedly poor? If they live in squalor, in filth, in crime, with

hope and joy gone, a homeless, soilless army of human prey.

It is generally conceded that unless the returns of any business

venture exceed the cost, bankruptcy is inevitable. But those engaged

in the business of producing wealth have not yet learned even this

simple lesson. Every year the cost of production in human life is

growing larger (50,000 killed, 100,000 wounded in America last year);

the returns to the masses, who help to create wealth, are ever

getting smaller. Yet America continues to be blind to the inevitable

bankruptcy of our business of production. Nor is this the only crime

of the latter. Still more fatal is the crime of turning the producer

into a mere particle of a machine, with less will and decision than

his master of steel and iron. Man is being robbed not merely of the

products of his labor, but of the power of free initiative, of

originality, and the interest in, or desire for, the things he is

making.

Real wealth consists in things of utility and beauty, in things that

help to create strong, beautiful bodies and surroundings inspiring to

live in. But if man is doomed to wind cotton around a spool, or dig

coal, or build roads for thirty years of his life, there can be no

talk of wealth. What he gives to the world is only gray and hideous

things, reflecting a dull and hideous existence,--too weak to live,

too cowardly to die. Strange to say, there are people who extol this

deadening method of centralized production as the proudest

achievement of our age. They fail utterly to realize that if we are

to continue in machine subserviency, our slavery is more complete

than was our bondage to the King. They do not want to know that

centralization is not only the death-knell of liberty, but also of

health and beauty, of art and science, all these being impossible in

a clock-like, mechanical atmosphere.

Anarchism cannot but repudiate such a method of production: its goal

is the freest possible expression of all the latent powers of the

individual. Oscar Wilde defines a perfect personality as "one who

develops under perfect conditions, who is not wounded, maimed, or in

danger." A perfect personality, then, is only possible in a state of

society where man is free to choose the mode of work, the conditions

of work, and the freedom to work. One to whom the making of a table,

the building of a house, or the tilling of the soil, is what the

painting is to the artist and the discovery to the scientist,--the

result of inspiration, of intense longing, and deep interest in work

as a creative force. That being the ideal of Anarchism, its economic

arrangements must consist of voluntary productive and distributive

associations, gradually developing into free communism, as the best

means of producing with the least waste of human energy. Anarchism,

however, also recognizes the right of the individual, or numbers of

individuals, to arrange at all times for other forms of work, in

harmony with their tastes and desires.

Such free display of human energy being possible only under complete

individual and social freedom, Anarchism directs its forces against

the third and greatest foe of all social equality; namely, the State,

organized authority, or statutory law,--the dominion of human

conduct.

Just as religion has fettered the human mind, and as property, or the

monopoly of things, has subdued and stifled man's needs, so has the

State enslaved his spirit, dictating every phase of conduct. "All

government in essence," says Emerson, "is tyranny." It matters not

whether it is government by divine right or majority rule. In every

instance its aim is the absolute subordination of the individual.

Referring to the American government, the greatest American

Anarchist, David Thoreau, said: "Government, what is it but a

tradition, though a recent one, endeavoring to transmit itself

unimpaired to posterity, but each instance losing its integrity; it

has not the vitality and force of a single living man. Law never

made man a whit more just; and by means of their respect for it, even

the well disposed are daily made agents of injustice."

Indeed, the keynote of government is injustice. With the arrogance

and self-sufficiency of the King who could do no wrong, governments

ordain, judge, condemn, and punish the most insignificant offenses,

while maintaining themselves by the greatest of all offenses, the

annihilation of individual liberty. Thus Ouida is right when she

maintains that "the State only aims at instilling those qualities in

its public by which its demands are obeyed, and its exchequer is

filled. Its highest attainment is the reduction of mankind to

clockwork. In its atmosphere all those finer and more delicate

liberties, which require treatment and spacious expansion, inevitably

dry up and perish. The State requires a taxpaying machine in which

there is no hitch, an exchequer in which there is never a deficit,

and a public, monotonous, obedient, colorless, spiritless, moving

humbly like a flock of sheep along a straight high road between two

walls."

Yet even a flock of sheep would resist the chicanery of the State, if

it were not for the corruptive, tyrannical, and oppressive methods it

employs to serve its purposes. Therefore Bakunin repudiates the

State as synonymous with the surrender of the liberty of the

individual or small minorities,--the destruction of social

relationship, the curtailment, or complete denial even, of life

itself, for its own aggrandizement. The State is the altar of

political freedom and, like the religious altar, it is maintained for

the purpose of human sacrifice.

In fact, there is hardly a modern thinker who does not agree that

government, organized authority, or the State, is necessary ONLY to

maintain or protect property and monopoly. It has proven efficient

in that function only.

Even George Bernard Shaw, who hopes for the miraculous from the State

under Fabianism, nevertheless admits that "it is at present a huge

machine for robbing and slave-driving of the poor by brute force."

This being the case, it is hard to see why the clever prefacer wishes

to uphold the State after poverty shall have ceased to exist.

Unfortunately there are still a number of people who continue in the

fatal belief that government rests on natural laws, that it maintains

social order and harmony, that it diminishes crime, and that it

prevents the lazy man from fleecing his fellows. I shall therefore

examine these contentions.

A natural law is that factor in man which asserts itself freely and

spontaneously without any external force, in harmony with the

requirements of nature. For instance, the demand for nutrition, for

sex gratification, for light, air, and exercise, is a natural law.

But its expression needs not the machinery of government, needs not

the club, the gun, the handcuff, or the prison. To obey such laws,

if we may call it obedience, requires only spontaneity and free

opportunity. That governments do not maintain themselves through

such harmonious factors is proven by the terrible array of violence,

force, and coercion all governments use in order to live. Thus

Blackstone is right when he says, "Human laws are invalid, because

they are contrary to the laws of nature."

Unless it be the order of Warsaw after the slaughter of thousands of

people, it is difficult to ascribe to governments any capacity for

order or social harmony. Order derived through submission and

maintained by terror is not much of a safe guaranty; yet that is the

only "order" that governments have ever maintained. True social

harmony grows naturally out of solidarity of interests. In a society

where those who always work never have anything, while those who

never work enjoy everything, solidarity of interests is non-existent;

hence social harmony is but a myth. The only way organized authority

meets this grave situation is by extending still greater privileges

to those who have already monopolized the earth, and by still further

enslaving the disinherited masses. Thus the entire arsenal of

government--laws, police, soldiers, the courts, legislatures,

prisons,--is strenuously engaged in "harmonizing" the most

antagonistic elements in society.

The most absurd apology for authority and law is that they serve to

diminish crime. Aside from the fact that the State is itself the

greatest criminal, breaking every written and natural law, stealing

in the form of taxes, killing in the form of war and capital

punishment, it has come to an absolute standstill in coping with

crime. It has failed utterly to destroy or even minimize the

horrible scourge of its own creation.

Crime is naught but misdirected energy. So long as every institution

of today, economic, political, social, and moral, conspires to

misdirect human energy into wrong channels; so long as most people

are out of place doing the things they hate to do, living a life they

loathe to live, crime will be inevitable, and all the laws on the

statutes can only increase, but never do away with, crime. What does

society, as it exists today, know of the process of despair, the

poverty, the horrors, the fearful struggle the human soul must pass

on its way to crime and degradation. Who that knows this terrible

process can fail to see the truth in these words of Peter Kropotkin:

"Those who will hold the balance between the benefits thus attributed

to law and punishment and the degrading effect of the latter on

humanity; those who will estimate the torrent of depravity poured

abroad in human society by the informer, favored by the Judge even,

and paid for in clinking cash by governments, under the pretext of

aiding to unmask crime; those who will go within prison walls and

there see what human beings become when deprived of liberty, when

subjected to the care of brutal keepers, to coarse, cruel words, to a

thousand stinging, piercing humiliations, will agree with us that the

entire apparatus of prison and punishment is an abomination which

ought to be brought to an end."

The deterrent influence of law on the lazy man is too absurd to merit

consideration. If society were only relieved of the waste and

expense of keeping a lazy class, and the equally great expense of the

paraphernalia of protection this lazy class requires, the social

tables would contain an abundance for all, including even the

occasional lazy individual. Besides, it is well to consider that

laziness results either from special privileges, or physical and

mental abnormalities. Our present insane system of production

fosters both, and the most astounding phenomenon is that people

should want to work at all now. Anarchism aims to strip labor of its

deadening, dulling aspect, of its gloom and compulsion. It aims to

make work an instrument of joy, of strength, of color, of real

harmony, so that the poorest sort of a man should find in work both

recreation and hope.

To achieve such an arrangement of life, government, with its unjust,

arbitrary, repressive measures, must be done away with. At best it

has but imposed one single mode of life upon all, without regard to

individual and social variations and needs. In destroying government

and statutory laws, Anarchism proposes to rescue the self-respect and

independence of the individual from all restraint and invasion by

authority. Only in freedom can man grow to his full stature. Only

in freedom will he learn to think and move, and give the very best in

him. Only in freedom will he realize the true force of the social

bonds which knit men together, and which are the true foundation of a

normal social life.

But what about human nature? Can it be changed? And if not, will it

endure under Anarchism?

Poor human nature, what horrible crimes have been committed in thy

name! Every fool, from king to policeman, from the flatheaded parson

to the visionless dabbler in science, presumes to speak

authoritatively of human nature. The greater the mental charlatan,

the more definite his insistence on the wickedness and weaknesses of

human nature. Yet, how can any one speak of it today, with every

soul in a prison, with every heart fettered, wounded, and maimed?

John Burroughs has stated that experimental study of animals in

captivity is absolutely useless. Their character, their habits,

their appetites undergo a complete transformation when torn from

their soil in field and forest. With human nature caged in a narrow

space, whipped daily into submission, how can we speak of its

potentialities?

Freedom, expansion, opportunity, and, above all, peace and repose,

alone can teach us the real dominant factors of human nature and all

its wonderful possibilities.

Anarchism, then, really stands for the liberation of the human mind

from the dominion of religion; the liberation of the human body from

the dominion of property; liberation from the shackles and restraint

of government. Anarchism stands for a social order based on the free

grouping of individuals for the purpose of producing real social

wealth; an order that will guarantee to every human being free access

to the earth and full enjoyment of the necessities of life, according

to individual desires, tastes, and inclinations.

This is not a wild fancy or an aberration of the mind. It is the

conclusion arrived at by hosts of intellectual men and women the

world over; a conclusion resulting from the close and studious

observation of the tendencies of modern society: individual liberty

and economic equality, the twin forces for the birth of what is fine

and true in man.

As to methods. Anarchism is not, as some may suppose, a theory of

the future to be realized through divine inspiration. It is a living

force in the affairs of our life, constantly creating new conditions.

The methods of Anarchism therefore do not comprise an iron-clad

program to be carried out under all circumstances. Methods must grow

out of the economic needs of each place and clime, and of the

intellectual and temperamental requirements of the individual. The

serene, calm character of a Tolstoy will wish different methods for

social reconstruction than the intense, overflowing personality of a

Michael Bakunin or a Peter Kropotkin. Equally so it must be apparent

that the economic and political needs of Russia will dictate more

drastic measures than would England or America. Anarchism does not

stand for military drill and uniformity; it does, however, stand for

the spirit of revolt, in whatever form, against everything that

hinders human growth. All Anarchists agree in that, as they also

agree in their opposition to the political machinery as a means of

bringing about the great social change.

"All voting," says Thoreau, "is a sort of gaming, like checkers, or

backgammon, a playing with right and wrong; its obligation never

exceeds that of expediency. Even voting for the right thing is doing

nothing for it. A wise man will not leave the right to the mercy of

chance, nor wish it to prevail through the power of the majority."

A close examination of the machinery of politics and its achievements

will bear out the logic of Thoreau.

What does the history of parliamentarism show? Nothing but failure

and defeat, not even a single reform to ameliorate the economic and

social stress of the people. Laws have been passed and enactments

made for the improvement and protection of labor. Thus it was proven

only last year that Illinois, with the most rigid laws for mine

protection, had the greatest mine disasters. In States where child

labor laws prevail, child exploitation is at its highest, and though

with us the workers enjoy full political opportunities, capitalism

has reached the most brazen zenith.

Even were the workers able to have their own representatives, for

which our good Socialist politicians are clamoring, what chances are

there for their honesty and good faith? One has but to bear in mind

the process of politics to realize that its path of good intentions

is full of pitfalls: wire-pulling, intriguing, flattering, lying,

cheating; in fact, chicanery of every description, whereby the

political aspirant can achieve success. Added to that is a complete

demoralization of character and conviction, until nothing is left

that would make one hope for anything from such a human derelict.

Time and time again the people were foolish enough to trust, believe,

and support with their last farthing aspiring politicians, only to

find themselves betrayed and cheated.

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