CHAPTER XI

FREE AGREEMENT

I

Accustomed as we are by heredity prejudices and our unsound education

and training to represent ourselves the beneficial hand of Government,

legislation and magistracy everywhere, we have come to believe that man

would tear his fellow-man to pieces like a wild beast the day the police

took his eye off him; that absolute chaos would come about if authority

were overthrown during a revolution. And with our eyes shut we pass by

thousands and thousands of human groupings which form themselves freely,

without any intervention of the law, and attain results infinitely

superior to those achieved under governmental tutelage.

If you open a daily paper you find that its pages are entirely devoted

to Government transactions and to political jobbery. A man from another

world, reading it, would believe that, with the exception of the Stock

Exchange transactions, nothing gets done in Europe save by order of some

master. You find nothing in the paper about institutions that spring up,

grow up, and develop without ministerial prescription! Nothing--or

almost nothing! Even where there is a heading, "Sundry Events" (_Faits

divers_, a favorite column in the French papers), it is because they are

connected with the police. A family drama, an act of rebellion, will

only be mentioned if the police have appeared on the scene.

Three hundred and fifty million Europeans love or hate one another,

work, or live on their incomes; but, apart from literature, theatre, or

sport, their lives remain ignored by newspapers if Governments have not

intervened in it in some way or other. It is even so with history. We

know the least details of the life of a king or of a parliament; all

good and bad speeches pronounced by the politicians have been preserved:

"speeches that have never had the least influence on the vote of a

single member," as an old parliamentarian said. Royal visits, the good

or bad humour of politicians, their jokes and intrigues, are all

carefully recorded for posterity. But we have the greatest difficulty to

reconstitute a city of the Middle Ages, to understand the mechanism of

that immense commerce that was carried on between Hanseatic cities, or

to know how the city of Rouen built its cathedral. If a scholar spends

his life in studying these questions, his works remain unknown, and

parliamentary histories--that is to say, the defective ones, as they

only treat of one side of social life--multiply; they are circulated,

they are taught in schools.

In this way we do not even perceive the prodigious work, accomplished

every day by spontaneous groups of men, which constitutes the chief work

of our century.

We therefore propose to point out some of these most striking

manifestations, and to show how men, as soon as their interests do not

absolutely clash, act in concert, harmoniously, and perform collective

work of a very complex nature.

It is evident that in present society, based on individual

property--that is to say, on plunder, and on a narrow-minded, and

therefore foolish individualism--facts of this kind are necessarily

limited; agreements are not always perfectly free, and often they have a

mean, if not execrable aim.

But what concerns us is not to give examples which might be blindly

followed, and which, moreover, present society could not possibly give

us. What we have to do is to show that, in spite of the authoritarian

individualism which stifles us, there remains in our life, taken as a

whole, a very great part in which we only act by free agreement; and

that therefore it would be much easier than is usually thought, to

dispense with Government.

In support of our view we have already mentioned railways, and we will

now return to them.

We know that Europe has a system of railways, over 175,000 miles long,

and that on this network you can nowadays travel from north to south,

from east to west, from Madrid to Petersburg, and from Calais to

Constantinople, without delays, without even changing carriages (when

you travel by express). More than that: a parcel deposited at a station

will find its addressee anywhere, in Turkey or in Central Asia, without

more formality needed for sending it than writing its destination on a

bit of paper.

This result might have been obtained in two ways. A Napoleon, a

Bismarck, or some potentate having conquered Europe, would from Paris,

Berlin, or Rome, draw a railway map and regulate the hours of the

trains. The Russian Tsar Nicholas I. dreamt of such a power. When he was

shown rough drafts of railways between Moscow and Petersburg, he seized

a ruler and drew on the map of Russia a straight line between these two

capitals, saying, "Here is the plan." And the road was built in a

straight line, filling in deep ravines, building bridges of a giddy

height, which had to be abandoned a few years later, after the railway

had cost about £120,000 to £150,000 per English mile.

This is one way, but happily things were managed differently. Railways

were constructed piece by piece, the pieces were joined together, and

the hundred different companies, to whom these pieces belonged,

gradually came to an understanding concerning the arrival and departure

of their trains, and the running of carriages on their rails, from all

countries, without unloading merchandise as it passes from one network

to another.

All this was done by free agreement, by exchange of letters and

proposals, and by congresses at which delegates met to discuss well

specified special points, and to come to an agreement about them, but

not to make laws. After the congress was over, the delegates returned to

their respective companies, not with a law, but with the draft of a

contract to be accepted or rejected.

Of course difficulties were met in the way. There were obstinate men

who would not be convinced. But a common interest compelled them to

agree in the end, without invoking the help of armies against the

refractory members.

This immense network of railways connected together, and the enormous

traffic it has given rise to, no doubt constitutes the most striking

trait of the nineteenth century; and it is the result of free agreement.

If somebody had foretold it eighty years ago, our grandfathers would

have thought him idiotic or mad. They would have said: "Never will you

be able to make the shareholders of a hundred companies listen to

reason! It is a Utopia, a fairy tale. A central Government, with an

'iron' dictator, can alone enforce it."

And the most interesting thing in this organization is, that there is no

European Central Government of Railways! Nothing! No minister of

railways, no dictator, not even a continental parliament, not even a

directing committee! Everything is done by free agreement.

So we ask the believers in the State, who pretend that "we can never do

without a central Government, were it only for regulating the traffic,"

we ask them: "But how do European railways manage without them? How do

they continue to convey millions of travellers and mountains of luggage

across a continent? If companies owning railways have been able to

agree, why should railway workers, who would take possession of

railways, not agree likewise? And if the Petersburg-Warsaw Company and

that of Paris-Belfort can act in harmony, without giving themselves the

luxury of a common commander, why, in the midst of our societies,

consisting of groups of free workers, should we need a Government?"

II

When we endeavour to prove by examples that even to-day, in spite of the

iniquitous organization of society as a whole, men, provided their

interests be not diametrically opposed, agree without the intervention

of authority, we do not ignore the objections that will be put forth.

All such examples have their defective side, because it is impossible

to quote a single organization exempt from the exploitation of the weak

by the strong, the poor by the rich. This is why the Statists will not

fail to tell us with their wonted logic: "You see that the intervention

of the State is necessary to put an end to this exploitation!"

Only they forget the lessons of history; they do not tell us to what

extent the State itself has contributed towards the existing order by

creating proletarians and delivering them up to exploiters. They forget

to prove us that it is possible to put an end to exploitation while the

primal causes--private capital and poverty, two-thirds of which are

artificially created by the State--continue to exist.

When we speak of the accord established among the railway companies, we

expect them, the worshippers of the bourgeois State, to say to us: "Do

you not see how the railway companies oppress and ill-use their

employees and the travellers! The only way is, that the State should

intervene to protect the workers and the public!"

But have we not said and repeated over and over again, that as long as

there are capitalists, these abuses of power will be perpetuated? It is

precisely the State, the would-be benefactor, that has given to the

companies that monopoly and those rights upon us which they possess

to-day. Has it not created concessions, guarantees? Has it not sent its

soldiers against railwaymen on strike? And during the first trials

(quite lately we saw it still in Russia), has it not extended the

privilege of the railway magnates as far as to forbid the Press to

mention railway accidents, so as not to depreciate the shares it

guaranteed? Has it not favoured the monopoly which has anointed the

Vanderbilts and the Polyakoffs, the directors of the P.L.M., the C.P.R.,

the St. Gothard, "the kings of our days"?

Therefore, if we give as an example the tacit agreement come to between

railway companies, it is by no means as an ideal of economical

management, nor even an ideal of technical organization. It is to show

that if capitalists, without any other aim than that of augmenting

their dividends at other people's expense, can exploit railways

successfully without establishing an International

Department,--societies of working men will be able to do it just as

well, and even better, without nominating a Ministry of European

railways.

Another objection is raised that is more serious at first sight. We may

be told that the agreement we speak of is not perfectly _free_, that the

large companies lay down the law to the small ones. It might be

mentioned, for example, that a certain rich German company, supported by

the State, compel travellers who go from Berlin to Bâle to pass via

Cologne and Frankfort, instead of taking the Leipzig route; or that such

a company carries goods a hundred and thirty miles in a roundabout way

(on a long distance) to favour its influential shareholders, and thus

ruins the secondary lines. In the United States travellers and goods are

sometimes compelled to travel impossibly circuitous routes so that

dollars may flow into the pocket of a Vanderbilt.

Our answer will be the same: As long as Capital exists, the Greater

Capital will oppress the lesser. But oppression does not result from

Capital only. It is also owing to the support given them by the State,

to monopoly created by the State in their favour, that the large

companies oppress the small ones.

The early English and French Socialists have shown long since how

English legislation did all in its power to ruin the small industries,

drive the peasant to poverty, and deliver over to wealthy industrial

employers battalions of men, compelled to work for no matter what

salary. Railway legislation did exactly the same. Strategic lines,

subsidized lines, companies which received the International Mail

monopoly, everything was brought into play to forward the interests of

wealthy financiers. When Rothschild, creditor to all European States,

puts capital in a railway, his faithful subjects, the ministers, will do

their best to make him earn more.

In the United States, in the Democracy that authoritarians hold up to us

as an ideal, the most scandalous fraudulency has crept into everything

that concerns railroads. Thus, if a company ruins its competitors by

cheap fares, it is often enabled to do so because it is reimbursed by

land given to it by the State for a gratuity. Documents recently

published concerning the American wheat trade have fully shown up the

part played by the State in the exploitation of the weak by the strong.

Here, too, the power of accumulated capital has increased tenfold and a

hundredfold by means of State help. So that, when we see syndicates of

railway companies (a product of free agreement) succeeding in protecting

their small companies against big ones, we are astonished at the

intrinsic force of free agreement that can hold its own against

all-powerful Capital favoured by the State.

It is a fact that little companies exist, in spite of the State's

partiality. If in France, land of centralization, we only see five or

six large companies, there are more than a hundred and ten in Great

Britain who agree remarkably well, and who are certainly better

organized for the rapid transit of travellers and goods than the French

and German companies.

Moreover, that is not the question. Large Capital, favoured by the

State, can always, _if it be to its advantage_, crush the lesser one.

What is of importance to us is this: The agreement between hundreds of

capitalist companies to whom the railways of Europe belong, _was

established without intervention of a central government_ to lay down

the law to the divers societies; it has subsisted by means of congresses

composed of delegates, who discuss among themselves, and submit

_proposals_, not _laws_, to their constituents. It is a new principle

that differs completely from all governmental principle, monarchical or

republican, absolute or parliamentarian. It is an innovation that has

been timidly introduced into the customs of Europe, but has come to

stay.

III

How often have we not read in the writings of State-loving Socialists:

"Who, then, will undertake the regulation of canal traffic in the

future society? Should it enter the mind of one of your Anarchist

'comrades' to put his barge across a canal and obstruct thousands of

boats, who will force him to reason?"

Let us confess the supposition to be somewhat fanciful. Still, it might

be said, for instance: "Should a certain commune, or a group of

communes, want to make their barges pass before others, they might

perhaps block the canal in order to carry stones, while wheat, needed in

another commune, would have to stand by. Who, then, would regulate the

traffic if not the Government?"

But real life has again demonstrated that Government can be very well

dispensed with here as elsewhere. Free agreement, free organization,

replace that noxious and costly system, and do better.

We know what canals mean to Holland. They are its highways. We also

know how much traffic there is on the canals. What is carried along our

highroads and railroads is transported on canal-boats in Holland. There

you could find cause to fight, in order to make your boats pass before

others. There the Government might really interfere to keep the traffic

in order.

Yet it is not so. The Dutch settled matters in a more practical way,

long ago, by founding guilds, or syndicates of boatmen. These were free

associations sprung from the very needs of navigation. The right of way

for the boats was adjusted by the order of inscription in a navigation

register; they had to follow one another in turn. Nobody was allowed to

get ahead of the others under pain of being excluded from the guild.

None could station more than a certain number of days along the quay;

and if the owner found no goods to carry during that time, so much the

worse for him; he had to depart with his empty barge to leave room for

newcomers. Obstruction was thus avoided, even though the competition

between the private owners of the boats continued to exist. Were the

latter suppressed, the agreement would have been only the more cordial.

It is unnecessary to add that the shipowners could adhere or not to the

syndicate. That was their business, but most of them elected to join it.

Moreover, these syndicates offered such great advantages that they

spread also along the Rhine, the Weser, the Oder, and as far as Berlin.

The boatmen did not wait for a great Bismarck to annex Holland to

Germany, and to appoint an Ober Haupt General Staats Canal Navigation's

Rath (Supreme Head Councillor of the General States Canal Navigation),

with a number of gold stripes on his sleeves, corresponding to the

length of the title. They preferred coming to an international

understanding. Besides, a number of shipowners, whose sailing-vessels

ply between Germany and Scandinavia, as well as Russia, have also joined

these syndicates, in order to regulate traffic in the Baltic, and to

bring about a certain harmony in the _chassé-croisé_ of vessels. These

associations have sprung up freely, recruiting volunteer adherents, and

have nought in common with governments.

It is, however, more than probable that here too greater capital

oppresses lesser. Maybe the syndicate has also a tendency to become a

monopoly, especially where it receives the precious patronage of the

State that surely did not fail to interfere with it. Let us not forget

either, that these syndicates represent associations whose members have

only private interests at stake, and that if at the same time each

shipowner were compelled--by the socializing of production, consumption,

and exchange--to belong to federated Communes, or to a hundred other

associations for the satisfying of his needs, things would have a

different aspect. A group of shipowners, powerful on sea, would feel

weak on land, and they would be obliged to lessen their claims in order

to come to terms with railways, factories, and other groups.

At any rate, without discussing the future, here is another spontaneous

association that has dispensed with Government. Let us quote more

examples.

As we are talking of ships and boats, let us mention one of the most

splendid organizations that the nineteenth century has brought forth,

one of those we may with right be proud of--the English Lifeboat

Association.

It is known that every year more than a thousand ships are wrecked on

the shores of England. At sea a good ship seldom fears a storm. It is

near the coasts that danger threatens--rough seas that shatter her

stern-post, squalls that carry off her masts and sails, currents that

render her unmanageable, reefs and sand banks on which she runs aground.

Even in olden times, when it was a custom among inhabitants of the

coasts to light fires in order to attract vessels on to reefs, in order

to plunder their cargoes, they always strove to save the crew. Seeing a

ship in distress, they launched their boats and went to the rescue of

shipwrecked sailors, only too often finding a watery grave themselves.

Every hamlet along the sea shore has its legends of heroism, displayed

by woman as well as by man, to save crews in distress.

No doubt the State and men of science have done something to diminish

the number of casualties. Lighthouses, signals, charts, meteorological

warnings have diminished them greatly, but there remains a thousand

ships and several thousand human lives to be saved every year.

To this end a few men of goodwill put their shoulders to the wheel.

Being good sailors and navigators themselves, they invented a lifeboat

that could weather a storm without being torn to pieces or capsizing,

and they set to work to interest the public in their venture, to collect

the necessary funds for constructing boats, and for stationing them

along the coasts, wherever they could be of use.

These men, not being Jacobins, did not turn to the Government. They

understood that to bring their enterprise to a successful issue they

must have the co-operation, the enthusiasm, the local knowledge, and

especially the self-sacrifice of the local sailors. They also understood

that to find men who at the first signal would launch their boat at

night, in a chaos of waves, not suffering themselves to be deterred by

darkness or breakers, and struggling five, six, ten hours against the

tide before reaching a vessel in distress--men ready to risk their lives

to save those of others--there must be a feeling of solidarity, a spirit

of sacrifice not to be bought with galloon. It was therefore a perfectly

spontaneous movement, sprung from agreement and individual initiative.

Hundreds of local groups arose along the coasts. The initiators had the

common senses not to pose as masters. They looked for sagacity in the

fishermen's hamlets, and when a rich man sent £1,000 to a village on the

coast to erect a lifeboat station, and his offer was accepted, he left

the choice of a site to the local fishermen and sailors.

Models of new boats were not submitted to the Admiralty. We read in a

Report of the Association: "As it is of importance that life-boatmen

should have full confidence in the vessel they man, the Committee will

make a point of constructing and equipping the boats according to the

life-boatmen's expressed wish." In consequence every year brings with it

new improvements.

The work is wholly conducted by volunteers organizing in committees and

local groups; by mutual aid and agreement!--Oh, Anarchists! Moreover,

they ask nothing of the ratepayers, and in a year they may receive

£40,000 in spontaneous subscriptions.

As to the results, here they are: In 1891 the Association possessed 293

lifeboats. The same year it saved 601 shipwrecked sailors and 33

vessels. Since its foundation it has saved 32,671 human beings.

In 1886, three lifeboats with all their men having perished at sea,

hundreds of new volunteers entered their names, organized themselves

into local groups, and the agitation resulted in the construction of

twenty additional boats. As we proceed, let us note that every year the

Association sends to the fishermen and sailors excellent barometers at a

price three times less than their sale price in private shops. It

propagates meteorological knowledge, and warns the parties concerned of

the sudden changes of weather predicted by men of science.

Let us repeat that these hundreds of committees and local groups are

not organized hierarchically, and are composed exclusively of

volunteers, lifeboatmen, and people interested in the work. The Central

Committee, which is more of a centre for correspondence, in no wise

interferes.

It is true that when a voting on some question of education or local

taxation takes place in a district, these committees of the National

Lifeboat Association do not, as such, take part in the deliberations--a

modesty, which unfortunately the members of elected bodies do not

imitate. But, on the other hand, these brave men do not allow those who

have never faced a storm to legislate for them about saving life. At the

first signal of distress they rush to their boats, and go ahead. There

are no embroidered uniforms, but much goodwill.

Let us take another society of the same kind, that of the Red Cross. The

name matters little; let us examine it.

Imagine somebody saying fifty years ago: "The State, capable as it is of

massacring twenty thousand men in a day, and of wounding fifty thousand

more, is incapable of helping its own victims; consequently, as long as

war exists private initiative must intervene, and men of goodwill must

organize internationally for this humane work!" What mockery would not

have met the man who would have dared to speak thus! To begin with, he

would have been called a Utopian, and if that did not silence him he

would have been told: "What nonsense! Your volunteers will be found

wanting precisely where they are most needed, your volunteer hospitals

will be centralized in a safe place, while everything will be wanting in

the ambulances. Utopians like you forget the national rivalries which

will cause the poor soldiers to die without any help." Such

disheartening remarks would have only been equalled by the number of

speakers. Who of us has not heard men hold forth in this strain?

Now we know what happened. Red Cross societies organized themselves

freely, everywhere, in all countries, in thousands of localities; and

when the war of 1870-1 broke out, the volunteers set to work. Men and

women offered their services. Thousands of hospitals and ambulances

were organized; trains were started carrying ambulances, provisions,

linen, and medicaments for the wounded. The English committees sent

entire convoys of food, clothing, tools, grain to sow, beasts of

draught, even steam-ploughs with their attendants to help in the tillage

of departments devastated by the war! Only consult _La Croix Rouge_, by

Gustave Moynier, and you will be really struck by the immensity of the

work performed.

As to the prophets ever ready to deny other men's courage, good sense,

and intelligence, and believing themselves to be the only ones capable

of ruling the world with a rod, none of their predictions were realized.

The devotion of the Red Cross volunteers was beyond all praise. They

were only too eager to occupy the most dangerous posts; and whereas the

salaried doctors of the Napoleonic State fled with their staff when the

Prussians approached, the Red Cross volunteers continued their work

under fire, enduring the brutalities of Bismarck's and Napoleon's

officers, lavishing their care on the wounded of all nationalities.

Dutch, Italians, Swedes, Belgians, even Japanese and Chinese agreed

remarkably well. They distributed their hospitals and their ambulances

according to the needs of the occasion. They vied with one another

especially in the hygiene of their hospitals. And there is many a

Frenchman who still speaks with deep gratitude of the tender care he

received from the Dutch or German volunteers in the Red Cross

ambulances. But what is this to an authoritarian? His ideal is the

regiment doctor, salaried by the State. What does he care for the Red

Cross and its hygienic hospitals, if the nurses be not functionaries!

Here is then an organization, sprung up but yesterday, and which reckons

its members by hundreds of thousands; possesses ambulances, hospital

trains, elaborates new processes for treating wounds, and so on, and is

due to the spontaneous initiative of a few devoted men.

Perhaps we shall be told that the State has something to do with this

organization. Yes, States have laid hands on it to seize it. The

directing committees are presided over by those whom flunkeys call

princes of the blood. Emperors and queens lavishly patronize the

national committees. But it is not to this patronage that the success of

the organization is due. It is to the thousand local committees of each

nation; to the activity of individuals, to the devotion of all those who

try to help the victims of war. And this devotion would be far greater

if the State did not meddle with it.

In any case, it was not by the order of an International Directing

Committee that Englishmen and Japanese, Swedes and Chinamen, bestirred

themselves to send help to the wounded in 1871. It was not by order of

an international ministry that hospitals rose on the invaded territory

and that ambulances were carried on to the battlefield. It was by the

initiative of volunteers from each country. Once on the spot, they did

not get hold of one another by the hair as was foreseen by the

Jacobinists of all nations; they all set to work without distinction of

nationality.

We may regret that such great efforts should be put to the service of so

bad a cause, and we may ask ourselves like the poet's child: "Why

inflict wounds if you are to heal them afterwards?" In striving to

destroy the power of capitalist and middle-class authority, we work to

put an end to the massacres called wars, and we would far rather see the

Red Cross volunteers put forth their activity to bring about (with us)

the suppression of war; but we had to mention this immense organization

as another illustration of results produced by free agreement and free

aid.

If we wished to multiply examples taken from the art of exterminating

men we should never end. Suffice to quote the numerous societies to

which the German army owes its force, that does not only depend on

discipline, as is generally believed. I mean the societies whose aim is

to propagate military knowledge.

At one of the last congresses of the Military Alliance (Kriegerbund),

delegates from 2,452 federated societies, comprising 151,712 members,

were present. But there are besides very numerous Shooting, Military

Games, Strategical Games, Topographical Studies Societies--these are the

workshops in which the technical knowledge of the German army is

developed, not in regimental schools. It is a formidable network of all

kinds of societies, including military men and civilians, geographers

and gymnasts, sportsmen and technologists, which rise up spontaneously,

organize, federate, discuss, and explore the country. It is these

voluntary and free associations that go to make the real backbone of the

German army.

Their aim is execrable. It is the maintenance of the Empire. But what

concerns us, is to point out that, in spite of military organization

being the "Great Mission of the State," success in this branch is the

more certain the more it is left to the free agreement of groups and to

the free initiative of individuals.

Even in matters pertaining to war, free agreement is thus appealed to;

and to further prove our assertion let us mention the Volunteer

Topographers' Corps of Switzerland who study in detail the mountain

passages, the Aeroplane Corps of France, the three hundred thousand

British volunteers, the British National Artillery Association, and the

Society, now in course of organization, for the defence of England's

coasts, as well as the appeals made to the commercial fleet, the

Bicyclists' Corps, and the new organizations of private motorcars and

steam launches.

Everywhere the State is abdicating and abandoning its holy functions to

private individuals. Everywhere free organization trespasses on its

domain. And yet, the facts we have quoted give us only a glimpse of what

free government has in store for us in the future when there will be no

more State.

The Conquest of Bread · 第 11 / 17 章