CHAPTER I

Note: Images of the original pages are available by viewing

Project Gutenberg's HTML version of this file.

See 30506-h.htm or 30506-h.zip:

(https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/30506/pg30506-images.html)

or

(https://www.gutenberg.org/files/30506/30506-h.zip)

ANARCHISM AND SOCIALISM

by

GEORGE PLECHANOFF

Translated with the permission of the author by

Eleanor Marx Aveling

Chicago

Charles H. Kerr & Company

CONTENTS.

PUBLISHERS' NOTE 7

PREFACE 13

I. THE POINT OF VIEW OF THE UTOPIAN SOCIALISTS 17

II. THE POINT OF VIEW OF SCIENTIFIC SOCIALISM 30

III. THE HISTORICAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE ANARCHIST DOCTRINE 38

IV. PROUDHON 53

V. BAKOUNINE 78

VI. BAKOUNINE--(CONCLUDED) 89

VII. THE SMALLER FRY 103

VIII. THE SO-CALLED ANARCHIST TACTICS. THEIR MORALITY 127

IX. THE BOURGEOISIE, ANARCHISM, AND SOCIALISM 143

PUBLISHERS' NOTE

In reprinting _Anarchism and Socialism_, by George Plechanoff, we

realize that there is not the same need for assailing and exposing

anarchism at present as there has been at different times in the past.

Yet the book is valuable, not merely because of its historic interest

but also to workers coming into contact with the revolutionary movement

for the first time. The general conception of anarchism that a beginner

often gets is that it is something extremely advanced. It is often

expressed somewhat as follows: "After capitalism comes socialism and

then comes anarchism." Plechanoff very ably explodes such notions.

Within the pages of this work the author shows not only the reactionary

character of anarchism, but he exposes its class bias and its empty

philosophic idealism and utopian program. He shows anarchism to be just

the opposite of scientific socialism or communism. It aims at a society

dominated by individualism, which is simply a capitalist ideal. Such

ideals as "liberty," "equality," "fraternity," first sprang from the

ranks of the petty property owners of early capitalism, as Plechanoff

shows. He also points out that while Proudhon is usually credited with

being "the father of anarchism" that actually Max Stirner comes closer

to being its "father." Stirner's "League of Egoists," he says, "is only

the utopia of a petty bourgeois in revolt. In this sense one may say he

has spoken the last word of bourgeois individualism."

Bakounine and Kropotkine, the famous Russian anarchists, are exposed as

confused idealists, who have not aided but rather hindered the

development of the working-class movement. Lenin speaks highly of the

book in this relation, but takes Plechanoff severely to task for his

failure properly to set forth the Marxian concepts of the State, and for

his total evasion of the form the State must take during the time it is

in the hands of the workers. When writing on the "Vulgarisation of Marx

by the Opportunists," in his _State and Revolution_, Lenin said:

"Plechanoff devoted a special pamphlet to the question of the relation

of socialism to anarchism entitled _Anarchism and Socialism_, published

in German in 1894. He managed somehow to treat the question without

touching on the most vital, controversial point, the essential point

_politically_, in the struggle with the anarchists: the relation of the

revolution to State, and the question of the State in general. His

pamphlet may be divided into two parts: one, historico-literary,

containing valuable material for the history of the ideas of Stirner,

Proudhon, and others; the second, ignorant and narrow-minded, containing

a clumsy disquisition on the theme 'that an anarchist cannot be

distinguished from a bandit,' an amusing combination of subjects and

most characteristic of the entire activity of Plechanoff on the eve of

revolution and during the revolutionary period in Russia. Indeed, in the

years 1908 to 1917 Plechanoff showed himself to be half doctrinaire and

half philistine, walking, politically, in the wake of the bourgeoisie.

"We saw how Marx and Engels, in their polemics against the anarchists,

explained most thoroughly their views on the relation of the revolution

to the State. Engels, when editing in 1891, Marx's _Criticism of the

Gotha Program_, wrote that 'we'--that is, Engels and Marx--'were then in

the fiercest phase of our battle with Bakounine and his anarchists;

hardly two years had then passed since the Hague Congress of the

International' (the First). The anarchists had tried to claim the Paris

Commune as their 'own,' as a confirmation of their teachings, thus

showing that they had not in the least understood the lessons of the

Commune or the analysis of those lessons by Marx. Anarchism has given

nothing approaching a true solution of the concrete political problems:

are we to _break_ up the old State machine, and what shall we put in its

place?

"But to speak of _Anarchism and Socialism_, leaving the whole question

of the State out of account and taking no notice at all of the whole

development of Marxism before and after the Commune--that meant an

inevitable fall into the pit of opportunism. For that is just what

opportunism wants--to keep these two questions in abeyance. To secure

this is, in itself, a victory of opportunism."

The anarchist desire to abolish the State at one blow, and to abolish

money, etc., in much the same way, springs from their inability to

understand the institutions of capitalist society. To many of them the

State is simply the result of people having faith in authority. Give up

this belief and the State will cease to exist. It is a myth like God and

rests entirely on faith. The anarchist's desire for the abolition of the

State arises from entirely different concepts to that of the communists.

To these anarchist anti-authoritarians the State is simply bad. It is

the most authoritarian thing in sight. It interferes with individual

freedom and consequently is the greatest obstruction to "absolute

liberty" and other utopian desires of the champions of individualism.

Communists also want a society without a State but realize that such can

only come about when society is without classes. The aim of the

communist movement is to destroy the capitalist form of the State and

substitute a proletarian form during the time in which society is

undergoing its classless transformation. When all property is

centralized into the hands of this working-class "State" and when the

administration of things has taken the place of political dominance, the

State, in its final form, will have withered away. Therefore, the

communist realizes that the State cannot be abolished in the manner

visualized by anarchists, but that it must be used, that is, the

proletariat must be raised "to the position of ruling class," for the

purpose of expropriating the capitalists and putting an end to the

exploitation of the producing class. The State is not abolished. Only

its capitalist form is abolished. The State dies out in the hands of the

workers when there is no longer an opposing class to coerce.

PREFACE.

The work of my friend George Plechanoff, "Anarchism and Socialism," was

written originally in French. It was then translated into German by Mrs.

Bernstein, and issued in pamphlet form by the German Social-Democratic

Publishing Office "Vorwärts." It was next translated by myself into

English, and so much of the translation as exigencies of space would

permit, published in the _Weekly Times and Echo_. The original French

version is now appearing in the _Jeunesse Socialiste_, and will be

issued in book form shortly. The complete English translation is now

given to English readers through the Twentieth Century Press. I have to

thank the Editor of the _Weekly Times and Echo_, Mr. Kibblewhite, for

his kindness in allowing me to use those portions of the work that

appeared in his paper.

As to the book itself. There are those who think that the precious time

of so remarkable a writer, and profound a thinker as George Plechanoff

is simply wasted in pricking Anarchist wind-bags. But, unfortunately,

there are many of the younger, or of the more ignorant sort, who are

inclined to take words for deeds, high-sounding phrases for acts, mere

sound and fury for revolutionary activity, and who are too young or too

ignorant to know that such sound and fury signify nothing. It is for the

sake of these younger, or for the sake of the more ignorant, folk, that

men like Plechanoff deal seriously with this matter of Anarchism, and do

not feel their time lost if they can, as this work must, help readers to

see the true meaning of what is called "Anarchism."

And a work like this one of Plechanoff's is doubly necessary in England,

where the Socialist movement is still largely disorganised, where there

is still such ignorance and confusion on all economic and political

subjects; where, with the exception, among the larger Socialist

organisations, of the Social-Democratic Federation (and even among the

younger S.D.F. members there is a vague sort of idea that Anarchism is

something fine and revolutionary), there has been no little coquetting

with Anarchism under an impression that it was very "advanced," and

where the Old Unionist cry of "No politics!" has unconsciously played

the reactionary Anarchist game. We cannot afford to overlook the fact

that the Socialist League became in time--when some of us had left

it--an Anarchist organisation, and that since then its leaders have

been, or still are, more or less avowed Anarchists. While quite recently

the leader of a "new party"--and that a would-be political one!--did not

hesitate to declare his Anarchist sympathies or to state that "The

methods of the Anarchists might differ from those of the Socialists, but

that might only prove that the former were more zealous than the

latter."

It is also necessary to point out once again that Anarchism and

Nihilism have no more in common than Anarchism and Socialism. As

Plechanoff said at the Zürich International Congress: "We (_i.e._, the

Russians) have had to endure every form of persecution, every thinkable

misery; but we have been spared one disgrace, one humiliation; we, at

least, have no Anarchists." A statement endorsed and emphasised by other

Russian revolutionists, and notably by the American delegate, Abraham

Cahan--himself a Russian refugee. The men and women who are waging their

heroic war in Russia and in Poland against Czarism have no more in

common with Anarchism than had the founders of the modern Socialist

movement--Carl Marx and Frederick Engels.

This little book of Plechanoff will assuredly convince the youngest even

that under any circumstances Anarchism is but another word for reaction;

and the more honest the men and women who play this reactionist game,

the more tragic and dangerous it becomes for the whole working class

movement.

Finally, there is a last reason why the issuing of this work at the

present moment is timely. In 1896 the next International Socialist and

Trade Union Congress meets in London. It is well that those who may

attend this great Congress as delegates, and that the thousands of

workers who will watch its work, should understand why the resolutions

arrived at by the Paris, Brussels, and Zürich International Congresses

with regard to the Anarchists should be enforced. The Anarchists who

cynically declare Workers' Congresses "absurd, motiveless, and

senseless" must be taught once and for all, that they cannot be allowed

to make the Congresses of the Revolutionary Socialists of the whole

world a playground for reaction and international spydom.

ELEANOR MARX AVELING.

Green Street Green, Orpington, Kent.

August, 1895.

ANARCHISM AND SOCIALISM

CHAPTER I

THE POINT OF VIEW OF THE UTOPIAN SOCIALISTS

The French Materialists of the 18th century while waging relentless war

against all the "_infâmes_" whose yoke weighed upon the French of this

period, by no means scorned the search after what they called "perfect

legislation," _i.e._, the best of all possible legislations, such

legislation as should secure to "human beings" the greatest sum of

happiness, and could be alike applicable to all existing societies, for

the simple reason that it was "perfect" and therefore the most

"natural." Excursions into this domain of "perfect legislation" occupy

no small place in the works of a d'Holbach and a Helvétius. On the other

hand, the Socialists of the first half of our century threw themselves

with immense zeal, with unequalled perseverance, into the search after

the best of possible social organisations, after a perfect social

organisation. This is a striking and notable characteristic which they

have in common with the French Materialists of the last century, and it

is this characteristic which especially demands our attention in the

present work.

In order to solve the problem of a perfect social organisation, or what

comes to the same thing, of the best of all possible legislation, we

must eventually have some criterion by the help of which we may compare

the various "legislations" one with the other. And the criterion must

have a special attribute. In fact, there is no question of a

"legislation" _relatively_ the best, _i.e._, _the best legislation under

given conditions_. No, indeed! We have to find a _perfect_ legislation,

a legislation whose perfection should have nothing relative about it,

should be entirely independent of time and place, should be, in a word,

absolute. We are therefore driven to make abstraction from history,

since everything in history is relative, everything depends upon

circumstance, time, and place. But abstraction made of the history of

humanity, what is there left to guide us in our "legislative"

investigations? Humanity is left us, man in general, human nature--of

which history is but the manifestation. Here then we have our criterion

definitely settled, a perfect legislation. The best of all possible

legislation is that which best harmonises with human nature. It may be,

of course, that even when we have such a criterion we may, for want of

"light" or of logic, fail to solve this problem of the best legislation.

_Errare humanum est_, but it seems incontrovertible that this problem

_can_ be solved, that we can, by taking our stand upon an exact

knowledge of human nature, find a perfect legislation, a perfect

organisation.

Such was, in the domain of social science, the point of view of the

French Materialists. Man is a sentient and reasonable being, they said;

he avoids painful sensations and seeks pleasurable ones. He has

sufficient intelligence to recognise what is useful to him as well as

what is harmful to him. Once you admit these axioms, and you can in your

investigations into the best legislation, arrive, with the help of

reflection and good intentions, at conclusions as well founded, as

exact, as incontrovertible as those derived from a mathematical

demonstration. Thus Condorcet undertook to construct deductively all

precepts of healthy morality by starting from the truth that man is a

sentient and reasonable being.

It is hardly necessary to say that in this Condorcet was mistaken. If

the "philosophers" in this branch of their investigations arrived at

conclusions of incontestable though very relative value, they

unconsciously owed this to the fact that they constantly abandoned their

abstract standpoint of human nature in general, and took up that of a

more or less idealised nature of a man of the Third Estate. This man

"felt" and "reasoned," after a fashion very clearly defined by his

social environment. It was his "nature" to believe firmly in bourgeois

property, representative government, freedom of trade (_laissez-faire,

laissez passer!_ the "nature" of this man was always crying out), and so

on. In reality, the French philosophers always kept in view the economic

and political requirements of the Third Estate; this was their real

criterion. But they applied it unconsciously, and only after much

wandering in the field of abstraction did they arrive at it. Their

conscious method always reduced itself to abstract considerations of

"human nature," and of the social and political institutions that best

harmonise with this nature.

Their method was also that of the Socialists. A man of the 18th century,

Morelly, "to anticipate a mass of empty objections that would be

endless," lays down as an incontrovertible principle "that in morals

nature is one, constant, invariable ... that its laws never change;" and

that "everything that may be advanced as to the variety in the morals of

savage and civilised peoples, by no means proves that nature varies;"

that at the outside it only shows "that from certain accidental causes

which are foreign to it, some nations have fallen away from the laws of

nature; others have remained submissive to them, in some respects from

mere habit; finally, others are subjected to them by certain

reasoned-out laws that are not always in contradiction with nature;" in

a word, "man may abandon the True, but the True can never be

annihilated!"[1] Fourier relies upon the analysis of the human passions;

Robert Owen starts from certain considerations on the formation of human

character; Saint Simon, despite his deep comprehension of the historical

evolution of humanity, constantly returns to "human nature" in order to

explain the laws of this evolution; the Saint-Simonians declared their

philosophy was "based upon a new conception of human nature." The

Socialists of the various schools may quarrel as to the cause of their

different conceptions of human nature; all, without a single exception,

are convinced that social science has not and cannot have, any other

basis than an adequate concept of this nature. In this they in no wise

differ from the Materialists of the 18th century. Human nature is the

one criterion they invariably apply in their criticism of existing

society, and in their search after a social organisation as it should

be, after a "perfect" legislation.

Morelly, Fourier, Saint Simon, Owen--we look upon all of them to-day as

Utopian Socialists. Since we know the general point of view that is

common to them all, we can determine exactly what the Utopian point of

view is. This will be the more useful, seeing that the opponents of

Socialism use the word "Utopian" without attaching to it any, even

approximately, definite meaning.

The _Utopian is one who, starting from an abstract principle, seeks for

a perfect social organisation_.

The abstract principle which served as starting point of the Utopians

was that of human nature. Of course there have been Utopians who applied

the principle indirectly through the intermediary of concepts derived

from it. Thus, _e.g._, in seeking for "perfect legislation," for an

ideal organisation of society, one may start from the concept of the

Rights of Man. But it is evident that in its ultimate analysis this

concept derives from that of human nature.

It is equally evident that one may be a Utopian without being a

Socialist. The bourgeois tendencies of the French Materialists of the

last century are most noticeable in their investigations of a perfect

legislation. But this in no wise destroys the Utopian character of these

enquires. We have seen that the method of the Utopian Socialist does not

in the least differ from that of d'Holbach or Helvétius, those champions

of the revolutionary French bourgeoisie.

Nay, more. One may have the profoundest contempt for all "music of the

future," one may be convinced that the social world in which one has the

good fortune to live is the best possible of all social worlds, and yet

in spite of this one may look at the structure and life of the body

social from the same point of view as that from which the Utopians

regarded it.

This seems a paradox, and yet nothing could be more true. Take but one

example.

In 1753 there appeared Morelly's work, _Les Isles Flottantes ou la

Basiliade du célébre Pelpai, traduit de l'Indien_.[2] Now, note the

arguments with which a review, _La Bibliothèque Impartiale_, combated

the communistic ideas of the author:--"One knows well enough that a

distance separates the finest speculations of this kind and the

possibility of their realisation. For in theory one takes imaginary men

who lend themselves obediently to every arrangement, and who second with

equal zeal the views of the legislator; but as soon as one attempts to

put these things into practice one has to deal with men as they are,

that is to say, submissive, lazy, or else in the thraldom of some

violent passion. The scheme of equality especially is one that seems

most repugnant to the nature of man; they are born to command or to

serve, a middle term is a burden to them."

Men are born to command or to serve. We cannot wonder, therefore, if in

society we see masters and servants, since human nature wills it so. It

was all very well for _La Bibliothèque Impartiale_ to repudiate these

communist speculations. The point of view from which it itself looked

upon social phenomena, the point of view of human nature, it had in

common with the Utopian Morelly.

And it cannot be urged that this review was probably not sincere in its

arguments, and that it appealed to human nature with the single object

of saying something in favour of the exploiters, in favour of those who

"command." But sincere or hypocritical in its criticism of Morelly, the

_Bibliothèque Impartiale_ adopted the standpoint common to all the

writers of this period. They all of them appeal to human nature

conceived of in one form or another, with the sole exception of the

retrogrades who, living shadows of passed times, continued to appeal to

the will of God.

As we know, this concept of human nature has been inherited by the 19th

century from its predecessor. The Utopian Socialists had no other. But

here again it is easy to prove that it is not peculiar to the Utopians.

Even at the period of the Restoration, the eminent French historian,

Guizot, in his historical studies, arrived at the remarkable conclusion

that the political constitution of any given country depended upon the

"condition of property" in that country. This was an immense advance

upon the ideas of the last century which had almost exclusively

considered the action of the "legislator." But what in its turn did

these "conditions of property" depend on? Guizot is unable to answer

this question, and after long, vain efforts to find a solution of the

enigma in historical circumstances, he returns, falls back _nolens

volens_, upon the theory of human nature. Augustin Thierry, another

eminent historian of the Restoration, found himself in almost the same

case, or rather he would have done so if only he had tried to

investigate this question of the "condition of property" and its

historical vicissitudes. In his concept of social life, Thierry was

never able to go beyond his master Saint Simon, who, as we have seen

above, held firmly to the point of view of human nature.

The example of the brilliant Saint Simon, a man of encyclopædic

learning, demonstrates more clearly perhaps than any other, how narrow

and insufficient was this point of view, in what confusion worse

confounded of contradictions it landed those who applied it. Says Saint

Simon, with the profoundest conviction: "The future is made up of the

last terms of a series, the first of which consist of the past. When one

has thoroughly mastered the first terms of any series it is easy to put

down their successors; thus from the past carefully observed one can

easily deduce the future." This is so true that one asks oneself at the

first blush why a man who had so clear a conception of the connection

between the various phases of historical evolution, should be classed

among the Utopians. And yet, look more closely at the historical ideas

of Saint Simon, and you will find that we are not wrong in calling him a

Utopian. The future is deducible from the past, the historical evolution

of humanity is a process governed by law. But what is the impetus, the

motive power that sets in motion the human species, that makes it pass

from one phase of its evolution to another? Of what does this impetus

consist? Where are we to seek it? It is here that Saint Simon comes back

to the point of view of all the Utopians, to the point of view of human

nature. Thus, according to him, the essential fundamental cause of the

French Revolution was a change in the temporal and spiritual forces,

and, in order to direct it wisely and conclude it rightly, it "was

necessary to put into direct political activity the forces which had

become preponderant." In other words, the manufacturers and the

_savants_ ought to have been called upon to formulate a political system

corresponding to the new social conditions. This was not done, and the

Revolution which had began so well was almost immediately directed into

a false path. The lawyers and metaphysicians became the masters of the

situation. How to explain this historical fact? "It is in the nature of

man," replies Saint Simon, "to be unable to pass without some

intermediate phase from any one doctrine to another. This law applies

most stringently to the various political systems, through which the

natural advance of civilisation compels the human species to pass. Thus

the same necessity which in industry has created the element of a new

temporal power, destined to replace military power, and which in the

positive sciences, has created the element of a new spiritual power,

called upon to take the place of theological power, must have developed

and set in activity (before the change in the conditions of society had

begun to be very perceptible) a temporal or spiritual power of an

intermediary, bastard, and transitory nature, whose only mission was to

bring about the transition from one social system to another."

So we see that the "historical series" of Saint Simon really explained

nothing at all; they themselves need explanation, and for this we have

again to fall back upon this inevitable human nature. The French

Revolution was directed along a certain line, because human nature was

so and so.

One of two things. Either human nature is, as Morelly thought,

invariable, and then it explains nothing in history, which shows us

constant variations in the relations of man to society; or it does vary

according to the circumstances in which men live, and then, far from

being the _cause_, it is itself the _effect_ of historical evolution.

The French Materialists knew well enough that man is the product of his

social surroundings. "Man is all education," said Helvétius. This would

lead one to suppose that Helvétius must have abandoned the human nature

point of view in order to study the laws of the evolution of the

environment that fashion human nature, giving to socialised man such or

such an "education." And indeed Helvétius did make some efforts in this

direction. But not he, nor his contemporaries, nor the Socialists of the

first half of our century, nor any representatives of science of the

same period, succeeded in discovering a new point of view that should

permit the study of the evolution of the social environment; the cause

of the historical "education" of man, the cause of the changes which

occur in his "nature." They were thus forced back upon the human nature

point of view as the only one that seemed to supply them with a fairly

solid basis for their scientific investigations. But since human nature

in its turn varied, it became indispensable to make abstraction from its

variations, and to seek in nature only stable properties, fundamental

properties preserved in spite of all changes of its secondary

properties. And in the end all that these speculations resulted in was a

meagre abstraction, like that of the philosophers, _e.g._, "man is a

sentient and reasonable being," which seemed all the more precious a

discovery in that it left plenty of room for every gratuitous

hypothesis, and every fantastical conclusion.

A Guizot had no need to seek for the best of social organisations for a

perfect legislation. He was perfectly satisfied with the existing ones.

And assuredly the most powerful argument he could have advanced to

defend them from the attacks of the malcontents would still have been

human nature, which he would have said renders every serious change in

the social and political constitution of France impossible. The

malcontents condemned this same constitution, making use of the same

abstraction. And since this abstraction, being completely empty, left,

as we have said, full room for every gratuitous hypothesis and the

logical consequences resulting therefrom, the "scientific" mission of

these reformers assumed the appearance of a geometrical problem; given a

certain nature, find what structure of society best corresponds with it.

So Morelly complains bitterly because "our old teachers" failed to

attempt the solution of "this excellent problem"--"to find the condition

in which it should be almost impossible for men to be depraved, or

wicked, or at any rate, _minima de malis_." We have already seen that

for Morelly human nature was "one, constant, invariable."

We now know what was the "scientific" method of the Utopians. Before we

leave them let us remind the reader that in human nature, an extremely

thin and therefore not very satisfying abstraction, the Utopians really

appealed, not to human nature in general, but to the idealised nature of

the men of their own day, belonging to the class whose social tendencies

they represented. The social reality, therefore, inevitably appears in

the words of the Utopians, but the Utopians were unconscious of this.

They saw this reality only across an abstraction which, thin as it was,

was by no means translucent.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] See "Code de la Nature," Paris, 1841. Villegardelle's edition, Note

to p. 66.

[2] "The floating islands or the Basiliades of the celebrated Pelpai,

translated from the Indian."

Anarchism and Socialism · 第 1 / 9 章