I took a lively part in this movement, and with a few English comrades
we started, in addition to the three socialist papers already in
existence, an anarchist-communist monthly, ‘Freedom,’ which continues
to live up to the present day. At the same time I resumed my work on
anarchism where I had had to interrupt it at the moment of my arrest.
The critical part of it was published during my Clairvaux imprisonment
by Elisée Reclus, under the title of ‘Paroles d’un Révolté.’ Now I
began to work out the constructive part of an anarchist-communist
society--so far as it can now be forecast--in a series of articles
published at Paris in ‘La Révolté.’ Our ‘boy,’ ‘Le Révolté,’ prosecuted
for anti-militarist propaganda, was compelled to change its title-page
and now appeared under a feminine name. Later on these articles were
published in a more elaborate form in a book, ‘La Conquête du Pain.’
These researches caused me to study more thoroughly certain points of
the economic life of our present civilized nations. Most socialists
had hitherto said that in our present civilized societies we actually
produce much more than is necessary for guaranteeing full well-being
to all. It is only the distribution which is defective; and if a
social revolution took place, nothing more would be required than
for everyone to return to his factory or workshop, Society taking
possession for itself of the ‘surplus value’ or benefits which now
go to the capitalist. I thought, on the contrary, that under the
present conditions of private ownership production itself had taken
a wrong turn, so as to neglect, and often to prevent, the production
of the very necessaries for life on a sufficient scale. None of these
are produced in greater quantities than would be required to secure
well-being for all; and the over-production, so often spoken of, means
nothing but that the masses are too poor to buy even what is now
considered as necessary for a decent existence. But in all civilized
countries the production, both agricultural and industrial, ought
to and easily might be immensely increased so as to secure a reign
of plenty for all. This brought me to consider the possibilities of
modern agriculture, as well as those of an education which would give
to everyone the possibility of carrying on at the same time both
enjoyable manual work and brain work. I developed these ideas in a
series of articles in the ‘Nineteenth Century,’ which are now published
as a book under the title of ‘Fields, Factories, and Workshops.’
Another great question also engrossed my attention. It is known to what
conclusions Darwin’s formula, ‘The Struggle for Existence,’ had been
developed by most of his followers, even the most intelligent of them,
such as Huxley. There is no infamy in civilized society, or in the
relations of the whites towards the so-called lower races, or of the
‘strong’ towards the ‘weak,’ which would not have found its excuse in
this formula.
Already during my stay at Clairvaux I saw the necessity of completely
revising the formula itself of ‘struggle for existence’ in the animal
world, and its applications to human affairs. The attempts which had
been made by a few socialists in this direction had not satisfied
me, when I found in a lecture of a Russian zoologist, Prof. Kessler,
a true expression of the law of struggle for life. ‘Mutual aid,’ he
said in that lecture, ‘is as much a law of nature as mutual struggle;
but for the _progressive_ evolution of the species the former is
far more important than the latter.’ These few words--confirmed
unfortunately by only a couple of illustrations (to which Syévertsoff,
the zoologist of whom I have spoken in an earlier chapter, added one or
two more)--contained for me the key of the whole problem. When Huxley
published in 1888 his atrocious article, ‘The Struggle for Existence:
a Program,’ I decided to put in a readable form my objections to his
way of understanding the struggle for life, among animals as well as
among men, the materials for which I had accumulated during a couple
of years. I spoke of it to my friends. However, I found that the
comprehension of ‘struggle for life’ in the sense of a war-cry of
‘Woe to the weak,’ raised to the height of a commandment of nature
revealed by science, was so deeply inrooted in this country that it
had become almost a matter of religion. Two persons only supported me
in my revolt against this misinterpretation of the facts of nature.
The editor of the ‘Nineteenth Century,’ Mr. James Knowles, with his
admirable perspicacity, at once seized the gist of the matter, and with
a truly youthful energy encouraged me to take it in hand. The other
was H. W. Bates, whom Darwin has truly described in his autobiography
as one of the most intelligent men whom he ever met. He was secretary
of the Geographical Society, and I knew him. When I spoke to him of my
intention he was delighted with it. ‘Yes, most assuredly write it,’ he
said. ‘That is true Darwinism. It is a shame to think of what “they”
have made of Darwin’s ideas. Write it, and when you have published
it, I will write you a letter in that sense which you may publish.’ I
could not have had better encouragement, and began the work which was
published in the ‘Nineteenth Century’ under the titles of ‘Mutual Aid
among Animals,’ ‘among Savages,’ ‘among Barbarians,’ ‘in the Mediæval
City,’ and ‘among Ourselves.’ Unfortunately I neglected to submit to
Bates the first two articles of this series, dealing with animals,
which were published during his lifetime; I hoped to be soon ready with
the second part of the work, ‘Mutual Aid among Men,’ but it took me
several years before I completed it, and in the meantime Bates was no
more among us.
The researches which I had to make during these studies in order to
acquaint myself with the institutions of the barbarian period and
with those of the mediæval free cities, led me to another important
research--the part played in history by the state, since its last
incarnation in Europe, during the last three centuries. And on the
other side, the study of the mutual-support institutions at different
stages of civilization, led me to examine the evolutionist bases of the
sense of justice and of morality in man.
Within the last ten years the growth of socialism in England has taken
a new aspect. Those who judge only by the numbers of socialist and
anarchist meetings held in the country, and the audiences attracted by
these meetings, are prone to conclude that socialist propaganda is now
on the decline. And those who judge the progress of it by the numbers
of votes that are given to those who claim to represent socialism
in Parliament, jump to the conclusion that there is now hardly any
socialist propaganda in England. But the depth and the penetration
of the socialist ideas can nowhere be judged by the numbers of votes
given in favour of those who bring more or less socialism into their
electoral programmes. Still less so in England. The fact is, that out
of the three directions of socialism which were formulated by Fourier,
Saint Simon, and Robert Owen, it is the latter which prevails in
England and Scotland. Consequently it is not so much by the numbers of
meetings or socialist votes that the intensity of the movement must be
judged, but by the infiltration of the socialist point of view into the
trade unionist, the co-operative, and the so-called municipal socialist
movements, as well as the general infiltration of socialist ideas all
over the country. Under this aspect, the extent to which the socialist
views have penetrated is vast in comparison to what it was in 1886; and
I do not hesitate to say that it is simply immense in comparison to
what it was in the years 1876-82. I may also add that the persevering
endeavours of the tiny anarchist groups have contributed, to an extent
which makes us feel that we have not wasted our time, to spread the
ideas of No-Government, of the rights of the individual, of local
action, and free agreement--as against those of State all-mightiness,
centralization, and discipline, which were dominant twenty years ago.
Europe altogether is traversing now a very bad phase of the development
of the military spirit. This was an unavoidable consequence of the
victory obtained by the German military empire, with its universal
military service system, over France in 1871, and it was already then
foreseen and foretold by many--in an especially impressive form by
Bakúnin. But the counter-current already begins to make itself felt in
modern life.
As to the way communist ideas, divested of their monastic form, have
penetrated in Europe and America, the extent of that penetration has
been immense during the twenty-seven years that I have taken an active
part in the socialist movement and could observe their growth. When
I think of the vague, confused, timid ideas which were expressed by
the workers at the first congresses of the International Workingmen’s
Association, or which were current at Paris during the Commune
insurrection, even amongst the most thoughtful of the leaders, and
compare them with those which have been arrived at to-day by an immense
number of working-men, I must say they seem to me as two entirely
different worlds.
There is no period in history--with the exception, perhaps, of the
period of the insurrections in the twelfth and the thirteenth centuries
(which led to the birth of the mediæval Communes), during which a
similarly deep change has taken place in the current conceptions of
Society. And now, in my fifty-seventh year, I am even more deeply
convinced than I was twenty-five years ago, that a chance combination
of accidental circumstances may bring about in Europe a revolution far
more important and as widely spread as that of 1848; not in the sense
of mere fighting between different parties, but in the sense of a deep
and rapid social reconstruction; and I am convinced that whatever
character such movements may take in different countries, there will
be displayed in all of them a far deeper comprehension of the required
changes than has ever been displayed within the last six centuries;
while the resistance which such movements will meet in the privileged
classes will hardly have the character of obtuse obstinacy which made
revolutions assume the violent character which they took in times past.
To obtain this immense result was well worth the efforts which so many
thousands of men and women of all nations and all classes have made
within the last thirty years.