CHAPTER III

ANARCHIST COMMUNISM

I

Every society, on abolishing private property will be forced, we

maintain, to organize itself on the lines of Communistic Anarchy.

Anarchy leads to Communism, and Communism to Anarchy, both alike being

expressions of the predominant tendency in modern societies, the pursuit

of equality.

Time was when a peasant family could consider the corn it sowed and

reaped, or the woolen garments woven in the cottage, as the products of

its own soil. But even then this way of looking at things was not quite

correct. There were the roads and the bridges made in common, the swamps

drained by common toil, the communal pastures enclosed by hedges which

were kept in repair by each and all. If the looms for weaving or the

dyes for colouring fabrics were improved by somebody, all profited; and

even in those days a peasant family could not live alone, but was

dependent in a thousand ways on the village or the commune.

But nowadays, in the present state of industry, when everything is

interdependent, when each branch of production is knit up with all the

rest, the attempt to claim an Individualist origin for the products of

industry is absolutely untenable. The astonishing perfection attained by

the textile or mining industries in civilized countries is due to the

simultaneous development of a thousand other industries, great and

small, to the extension of the railroad system, to inter-oceanic

navigation, to the manual skill of thousands of workers, to a certain

standard of culture reached by the working class as a whole--to the

labours, in short, of men in every corner of the globe.

The Italians who died of cholera while making the Suez Canal, or of

anchylosis in the St. Gothard Tunnel, and the Americans mowed down by

shot and shell while fighting for the abolition of slavery, have helped

to develop the cotton industry of France and England, as well as the

work-girls who languish in the factories of Manchester and Rouen, and

the inventor who (following the suggestion of some worker) succeeds in

improving the looms.

How then, shall we estimate the share of each in the riches which ALL

contribute to amass?

Looking at production from this general, synthetic point of view, we

cannot hold with the Collectivists that payment proportionate to the

hours of labour rendered by each would be an ideal arrangement, or even

a step in the right direction.

Without discussing whether exchange value of goods is really measured in

existing societies by the amount of work necessary to produce

it--according to the teaching of Adam Smith and Ricardo, in whose

footsteps Marx has followed--suffice it to say here, leaving ourselves

free to return to the subject later, that the Collectivist ideal appears

to us untenable in a society which considers the instruments of labour

as a common inheritance. Starting from this principle, such a society

would find itself forced from the very outset to abandon all forms of

wages.

The migrated individualism of the Collectivist system certainly could

not maintain itself alongside a partial communism--the socialization of

land and the instruments of production. A new form of property requires

a new form of remuneration. A new method of production cannot exist side

by side with the old forms of consumption, any more than it can adapt

itself to the old forms of political organization.

The wage system arises out of the individual ownership of the land and

the instruments of labour. It was the necessary condition for the

development of capitalist production, and will perish with it, in spite

of the attempt to disguise it as "profit-sharing." The common

possession of the instruments of labour must necessarily bring with it

the enjoyment in common of the fruits of common labour.

We hold further that Communism is not only desirable, but that existing

societies, founded on Individualism, _are inevitably impelled in the

direction of Communism_. The development of Individualism during the

last three centuries is explained by the efforts of the individual to

protect himself from the tyranny of Capital and of the State. For a time

he imagined, and those who expressed his thought for him declared, that

he could free himself entirely from the State and from society. "By

means of money," he said, "I can buy all that I need." But the

individual was on a wrong track, and modern history has taught him to

recognize that, without the help of all, he can do nothing, although his

strong-boxes are full of gold.

In fact, along this current of Individualism, we find in all modern

history a tendency, on the one hand to retain all that remains of the

partial Communism of antiquity, and, on the other, to establish the

Communist principle in the thousand developments of modern life.

As soon as the communes of the tenth, eleventh, and twelfth centuries

had succeeded in emancipating themselves from their lords,

ecclesiastical or lay, their communal labour and communal consumption

began to extend and develop rapidly. The township--and not private

persons--freighted ships and equipped expeditions, for the export of

their manufacture, and the benefit arising from the foreign trade did

not accrue to individuals, but was shared by all. At the outset, the

townships also bought provisions for all their citizens. Traces of these

institutions have lingered on into the nineteenth century, and the

people piously cherish the memory of them in their legends.

All that has disappeared. But the rural township still struggles to

preserve the last traces of this Communism, and it succeeds--except when

the State throws its heavy sword into the balance.

Meanwhile new organizations, based on the same principle--_to every man

according to his needs_--spring up under a thousand different forms; for

without a certain leaven of Communism the present societies could not

exist. In spite of the narrowly egoistic turn given to men's minds by

the commercial system, the tendency towards Communism is constantly

appearing, and it influences our activities in a variety of ways.

The bridges, for the use of which a toll was levied in the old days,

have become public property and are free to all; so are the high roads,

except in the East, where a toll is still exacted from the traveller for

every mile of his journey. Museums, free libraries, free schools, free

meals for children; parks and gardens open to all; streets paved and

lighted, free to all; water supplied to every house without measure or

stint--all such arrangements are founded on the principle: "Take what

you need."

The tramways and railways have already introduced monthly and annual

season tickets, without limiting the number of journeys taken; and two

nations, Hungary and Russia, have introduced on their railways the zone

system, which permits the holder to travel five hundred or eight hundred

miles for the same price. It is but a short step from that to a uniform

charge, such as already prevails in the postal service. In all these

innovations, and in a thousand others, the tendency is not to measure

the individual consumption. One man wants to travel eight hundred miles,

another five hundred. These are personal requirements. There is no

sufficient reason why one should pay twice as much as the other because

his need is twice as great. Such are the signs which appear even now in

our individualist societies.

Moreover, there is a tendency, though still a feeble one, to consider

the needs of the individual, irrespective of his past or possible

services to the community. We are beginning to think of society as a

whole, each part of which is so intimately bound up with the others that

a service rendered to one is a service rendered to all.

When you go to a public library--not indeed the National Library of

Paris, but, say, into the British Museum or the Berlin Library--the

librarian does not ask what services you have rendered to society before

giving you the book, or the fifty books, which you require; he even

comes to your assistance if you do not know how to manage the catalogue.

By means of uniform credentials--and very often a contribution of work

is preferred--the scientific society opens its museums, its gardens, its

library, its laboratories, and its annual conversaziones to each of its

members, whether he be a Darwin, or a simple amateur.

At St. Petersburg, if you are elaborating an invention, you go into a

special laboratory, where you are given a place, a carpenter's bench, a

turning lathe, all the necessary tools and scientific instruments,

provided only you know how to use them; and you are allowed to work

there as long as you please. There are the tools; interest others in

your idea; join with fellow workers skilled in various crafts, or work

alone if you prefer it. Invent a flying machine, or invent nothing--that

is your own affair. You are pursuing an idea--that is enough.

In the same way, those who man the lifeboat do not ask credentials from

the crew of a sinking ship; they launch their boat, risk their lives in

the raging waves, and sometimes perish, all to save men whom they do not

even know. And what need to know them? "They are human beings, and they

need our aid--that is enough, that establishes their right---- To the

rescue!"

Thus we find a tendency, eminently communistic, springing up on all

sides, and in various guises, in the very heart of theoretically

individualist societies.

Suppose that one of our great cities, so egotistic in ordinary times,

were visited to-morrow by some calamity--a siege, for instance--that

same selfish city would decide that the first needs to satisfy were

those of the children and the aged. Without asking what services they

had rendered, or were likely to render to society, it would first of all

feed them. Then the combatants would be cared for, irrespective of the

courage or the intelligence which each had displayed, and thousands of

men and women would outvie each other in unselfish devotion to the

wounded.

This tendency exists, and is felt as soon as the most pressing needs of

each are satisfied, and in proportion as the productive power of the

race increases. It becomes an active force every time a great idea comes

to oust the mean preoccupations of everyday life.

How can we doubt, then, that when the instruments of production are

placed at the service of all, when business is conducted on Communist

principles, when labour, having recovered its place of honour in

society, produces much more than is necessary to all--how can we doubt

that this force (already so powerful), will enlarge its sphere of action

till it becomes the ruling principle of social life?

Following these indications, and considering further the practical side

of expropriation, of which we shall speak in the following chapters, we

are convinced that our first obligation, when the revolution shall have

broken the power upholding the present system, will be to realize

Communism without delay.

But ours is neither the Communism of Fourier and the Phalansteriens, nor

of the German State Socialists. It is Anarchist Communism, Communism

without government--the Communism of the Free. It is the synthesis of

the two ideals pursued by humanity throughout the ages--Economic and

Political Liberty.

II

In taking "Anarchy" for our ideal of political organization we are only

giving expression to another marked tendency of human progress. Whenever

European societies have developed up to a certain point, they have

shaken off the yoke of authority and substituted a system founded more

or less on the principles of individual liberty. And history shows us

that these periods of partial or general revolution, when the old

governments were overthrown, were also periods of sudden, progress both

in the economic and the intellectual field. So it was after the

enfranchisement of the communes, whose monuments, produced by the free

labour of the guilds, have never been surpassed; so it was after the

great peasant uprising which brought about the Reformation and

imperilled the papacy; and so it was again with the society, free for a

brief space, which was created on the other side of the Atlantic by the

malcontents from the Old world.

And, if we observe the present development of civilized nations, we see,

most unmistakably, a movement ever more and more marked tending to limit

the sphere of action of the Government, and to allow more and more

liberty to the individual. This evolution is going on before our eyes,

though cumbered by the ruins and rubbish of old institutions and old

superstitions. Like all evolutions, it only waits a revolution to

overthrow the old obstacles which block the way, that it may find free

scope in a regenerated society.

After having striven long in vain to solve the insoluble problem--the

problem of constructing a government "which will constrain the

individual to obedience without itself ceasing to be the servant of

society," men at last attempt to free themselves from every form of

government and to satisfy their need for organization by free contacts

between individuals and groups pursuing the same aim. The independence

of each small territorial unit becomes a pressing need; mutual agreement

replaces law in order to regulate individual interests in view of a

common object--very often disregarding the frontiers of the present

States.

All that was once looked on as a function of the Government is to-day

called in question. Things are arranged more easily and more

satisfactorily without the intervention of the State. And in studying

the progress made in this direction, we are led to conclude that the

tendency of the human race is to reduce Government interference to zero;

in fact, to abolish the State, the personification of injustice,

oppression, and monopoly.

We can already catch glimpses of a world in which the bonds which bind

the individual are no longer laws, but social habits--the result of the

need felt by each one of us to seek the support, the co-operation, the

sympathy of his neighbours.

Assuredly the idea of a society without a State will give rise to at

least as many objections as the political economy of a society without

private capital. We have all been brought up from our childhood to

regard the State as a sort of Providence; all our education, the Roman

history we learned at school, the Byzantine code which we studied later

under the name of Roman law, and the various sciences taught at the

universities, accustom us to believe in Government and in the virtues of

the State providential.

To maintain this superstition whole systems of philosophy have been

elaborated and taught; all politics are based on this principle; and

each politician, whatever his colours, comes forward and says to the

people, "Give my party the power; we can and we will free you from the

miseries which press so heavily upon you."

From the cradle to the grave all our actions are guided by this

principle. Open any book on sociology or jurisprudence, and you will

find there the Government, its organization, its acts, filling so large

a place that we come to believe that there is nothing outside the

Government and the world of statesmen.

The Press teaches us the same in every conceivable way. Whole columns

are devoted to parliamentary debates and to political intrigues; while

the vast everyday life of a nation appears only in the columns given to

economic subjects, or in the pages devoted to reports of police and law

cases. And when you read the newspapers, your hardly think of the

incalculable number of beings--all humanity, so to say--who grow up and

die, who know sorrow, who work and consume, think and create outside the

few encumbering personages who have been so magnified that humanity is

hidden by their shadows, enlarged by our ignorance.

And yet as soon as we pass from printed matter to life itself, as soon

as we throw a glance at society, we are struck by the infinitesimal part

played by the Government. Balzac already has remarked how millions of

peasants spend the whole of their lives without knowing anything about

the State, save the heavy taxes they are compelled to pay. Every day

millions of transactions are made without Government intervention, and

the greatest of them--those of commerce and of the Exchange--are carried

on in such a way that the Government could not be appealed to if one of

the contracting parties had the intention of not fulfilling his

agreement. Should you speak to a man who understands commerce, he will

tell you that the everyday business transacted by merchants would be

absolutely impossible were it not based on mutual confidence. The habit

of keeping his word, the desire not to lose his credit, amply suffice to

maintain this relative honesty. The man who does not feel the slightest

remorse when poisoning his customers with noxious drugs covered with

pompous labels, thinks he is in honour bound to keep his engagements.

But if this relative morality has developed under present conditions,

when enrichment is the only incentive and the only aim, can we doubt its

rapid progress when appropriation of the fruits of others' labour will

no longer be the basis of society?

Another striking fact, which especially characterizes our generation,

speaks still more in favour of our ideas. It is the continual extension

of the field of enterprise due to private initiative, and the prodigious

development of free organizations of all kinds. We shall discuss this

more at length in the chapter devoted to _Free Agreement_. Suffice it to

mention that the facts are so numerous and so customary that they are

the essence of the second half of the nineteenth century, even though

political and socialist writers ignore them, always preferring to talk

to us about the functions of the Government.

These organizations, free and infinitely varied, are so natural an

outcome of our civilization; they expand so rapidly and federate with

so much ease; they are so necessary a result of the continual growth of

the needs of civilized man; and lastly, they so advantageously replace

governmental interference, that we must recognize in them a factor of

growing importance in the life of societies. If they do not yet spread

over the whole of the manifestations of life, it is that they find an

insurmountable obstacle in the poverty of the worker, in the divisions

of present society, in the private appropriation of capital, and in the

State. Abolish these obstacles, and you will see them covering the

immense field of civilized man's activity.

The history of the last fifty years furnishes a living proof that

Representative Government is impotent to discharge all the functions we

have sought to assign to it. In days to come the nineteenth century will

be quoted as having witnessed the failure of parliamentarianism.

This impotence is becoming so evident to all; the faults of

parliamentarianism, and the inherent vices of the representative

principle, are so self-evident, that the few thinkers who have made a

critical study of them (J. S. Mill, Leverdays), did but give literary

form to the popular dissatisfaction. It is not difficult, indeed, to see

the absurdity of naming a few men and saying to them, "Make laws

regulating all our spheres of activity, although not one of you knows

anything about them!"

We are beginning to see that government by majorities means abandoning

all the affairs of the country to the tide-waiters who make up the

majorities in the House and in election committees; to those, in a word,

who have no opinion of their own.

Mankind is seeking and already finding new issues. The International

Postal Union, the railway unions, and the learned societies give us

examples of solutions based on free agreement in place and stead of law.

To-day, when groups scattered far and wide wish to organize themselves

for some object or other, they no longer elect an international

parliament of Jacks-of-all-trades. They proceed in a different way.

Where it is not possible to meet directly or come to an agreement by

correspondence, delegates versed in the question at issue are sent, and

they are told: "Endeavour to come to an agreement on such or such a

question, and then return, not with a law in your pocket, but with a

proposition of agreement which we may or may not accept."

Such is the method of the great industrial companies, the learned

societies, and numerous associations of every description, which already

cover Europe and the United States. And such will be the method of a

free society. A society founded on serfdom is in keeping with absolute

monarchy; a society based on the wage system and the exploitation of the

masses by the capitalists finds its political expression in

parliamentarianism. But a free society, regaining possession of the

common inheritance, must seek in free groups and free federations of

groups, a new organization, in harmony with the new economic phase of

history.

Every economic phase has a political phase corresponding to it, and it

would be impossible to touch private property unless a new mode of

political life be found at the same time.

The Conquest of Bread · 第 3 / 17 章