I
There is a deal of confusion and uncertainty in the use of the words
“socialist,” “anarchist,” and “nihilist.” Even the ’ist himself
commonly knows with as little accuracy what he is as the rest of
us know why he is. The socialist believes that most human affairs
should be regulated and managed by the state—the government—that is
to say, the majority. Our own system has many socialist features and
the trend of republican government is all that way. The anarchist
favors abolition of all law and frequently belongs to an organization
that secures his allegiance by solemn oaths and dreadful penalties.
“Nihilism” is a name given by Turgenieff to the general body of Russian
discontent which finds expression in antagonizing authority and killing
authorities. Constructive politics would seem, as yet, to be a cut
above the nihilist’s intelligence; he is essentially a destructionary.
He is so diligently engaged in unweeding the soil that he has not given
a thought to what he will grow there. Nihilism may be defined as a
policy of assassination tempered by reflections on Siberia. American
sympathy with it is the offspring of an unholy union between the tongue
of a liar and the ear of a dupe.
Upon examination it will be seen that political dissent, when it
takes any form more coherent than the mere brute dissatisfaction of
a mind that does not know what it wants to want, finds expression in
one of but two ways—in Socialism or in Anarchism. Whatever methods
one may think will best replace a system gradually evolved from our
needs and our natures with a system existing only in the minds of
dreamers, one is bound to choose between these two dreams. Yet such
is the intellectual delinquency of many who most strenuously denounce
the system that we have that we not infrequently find the same man
advocating in one breath, Socialism, in the next, Anarchism. Indeed,
few of these sons of darkness know that even as coherent dreams the
two are incompatible. With Anarchy triumphant the socialist would be a
thousand years further from realization of his hope than he is to-day.
Set up Socialism on a Monday and on Tuesday the country would be _en
fête_, gaily hunting down anarchists. There would be little difficulty
in trailing them, for they have not so much sense as a deer, which,
running down the wind, sends its tell-tale fragrance on before.
Socialism and Anarchism are parts of the same thing, in the sense that
the terminal points of a road are parts of the same road. Between them,
about midway, lies the system that we have the happiness to endure.
It is a “blend” of Socialism and Anarchism in about equal parts: all
that is not one is the other. Coöperation is Socialism; competition is
Anarchism. Competition carried to its logical conclusion (which only
coöperation prevents or can prevent) would leave no law in force, no
property possible, no life secure.
Of course the words “coöperation” and “competition” are not here used
in a merely industrial and commercial sense; they are intended to cover
the whole field of human activity. Two voices singing a duet—that is
coöperation—Socialism. Two voices singing each a different tune and
trying to drown each other—that is competition—Anarchism: each is a
law unto itself—that is to say, it is lawless. Everything that ought to
be done the socialist hopes to do by associated endeavor, as an army
wins battles; Anarchism is socialist in its means only: by coöperation
it tries to render coöperation impossible—combines to kill combination.
Its method says to its purpose: “Thou fool!”