Transcriber's note:
Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).
ANARCHY
By
Errico Malatesta
Published by the Free Society Library in 1900
ANARCHY.
----------
ANARCHY is a word which comes from the Greek, and signifies,
strictly speaking, _without government:_ the state of a people
without any constituted authority, that is, without government.
Before such an organization had begun to be considered possible
and desirable by a whole class of thinkers, so as to be taken
as the aim of a party (which party has now become one of the
most important factors in modern social warfare), the word Anarchy
was taken universally in the sense of disorder and confusion;
and it is still adopted in that sense by the ignorant and by
adversaries interested in distorting the truth.
We shall not enter into philological discussions; for the question
is not philological but historical. The common meaning of the word
does not misconceive its true etymological signification, but is
derived from this meaning, owing to the prejudice that government
must be a necessity of the organization of social life; and that
consequently a society without government must be given up to
disorder, and oscillate between the unbridled dominion of some and
the blind vengeance of others.
The existence of this prejudice, and its influence on the meaning
which the public has given the word, is easily explained.
Man, like all living beings, adapts and habituates himself to
the conditions in which he lives, and transmits by inheritance
his acquired habits. Thus being born and having lived in bondage,
being the descendant of a long line of slaves, man, when he began to
think, believed that slavery was an essential condition of life; and
liberty seemed to him an impossible thing. In like manner, the
workman, forced for centuries, and thus habituated, to depend upon
the good will of his employer for work, that is, for bread, and
accustomed to see his own life at the disposal of those who possess
the land and the capital, has ended in believing that it is his
master who gives him to eat, and demands ingenuously how it would be
possible to live, if there were no master over him?
In the same way, a man who had had his limbs bound from his birth,
but had nevertheless found out how to hobble about, might attribute
to the very hands that bound him his ability to move, while, on the
contrary, they would be diminishing and paralyzing the muscular
energy of his limbs.
If, then, we add to the natural effect of habit the education
given him by his masters, the parson, teacher, etc., who are all
interested in teaching that the employer and the government are
necessary; if also we add the judge and the bailiff to force those
who think differently--and might try to propagate their opinions
--to keep silence, we shall understand how the prejudice as to
the utility and necessity of masters and governments has become
established. Suppose a doctor brings forward a complete theory,
with a thousand ably invented illustrations, to persuade that man
with the bound limb whom we were describing, that, if his limb were
freed, he could not walk, could not even live. The man would defend
his bands furiously, and consider any one his enemy who tried to
tear them off.
Thus, since it is believed that government is necessary, and
that without government there must be disorder and confusion,
it is natural and logical to suppose that Anarchy, which signifies
without government, must also mean absence of order.
Nor is this fact without parallel in the history of words. In
those epochs and countries where people have considered government
by one man (monarchy) necessary, the word republic (that is, the
government of many) has been used precisely like Anarchy, to imply
disorder and confusion. Traces of this signification of the word are
still to be found in the popular language of almost all countries.
When this opinion is changed, and the public convinced that
government is not necessary, but extremely harmful, the word
Anarchy, precisely because it signifies without government, will
become equal to saying natural order, harmony of the needs and
interests of all, complete liberty with complete solidarity.
Therefore, those are wrong who say that Anarchists have chosen their
name badly, because it is erroneously understood by the masses and
leads to a false interpretation. The error does not come from the
word, but from the thing. The difficulty which Anarchists meet with
in spreading their views does not depend upon the name they have
given themselves, but upon the fact that their conceptions strike at
all the inveterate prejudices that people have about the function of
government, or the _State_, as it is called.
Before proceeding further, it will be well to explain this last
word (the State) which, in our opinion, is the real cause of much
misunderstanding.
Anarchists, and we among them, have made use, and still generally
make use of the word State, meaning thereby that collection of
institutions, political, legislative, judicial, military, financial,
etc., by means of which the management of their own affairs, the
guidance of their personal conduct and the care of ensuring their
own safety are taken from the people and confided to certain
individuals. And these, whether by usurpation or delegation, are
invested with the right to make laws over and for all, and to
constrain the public to respect them, making use of the collective
force of the community to this end.
In this case the word State means government, or, if you like, it is
the impersonal expression, abstracted from the state of things, of
which the government is the personification. Then such expressions
as abolition of the State, or society without the State, agree
perfectly with the conception which Anarchists wish to express of
the destruction of every political institution based on authority,
and of the constitution of a free and equal society, based upon
harmony of interests, and the voluntary contribution of all to the
satisfaction of social needs.
However, the word State has many other significations, and among
these some which lend themselves to misconstruction, particularly
when used among men whose sad social position has not afforded them
leisure to become accustomed to the delicate distinctions of
scientific language, or, still worse, when adopted treacherously by
adversaries, who are interested in confounding the sense, or do not
wish to comprehend. Thus the word State is often used to indicate
any given society, or collection of human beings, united on a given
territory and constituting what is called a social unit,
independently of the way in which the members of the said body are
grouped, or of the relations existing between them. State is used
also simply as a synonym for society. Owing to these significations
of the word, our adversaries believe, or rather profess to believe,
that Anarchists wish to abolish every social relation and all
collective work, and to reduce man to a condition of isolation, that
is, to a state worse than savagery.
By State again is meant only the supreme administration of a
country, the central power, distinct from provincial or communal
power; and therefore others think that Anarchists wish merely for a
territorial decentralization, leaving the principle of government
intact, and thus confounding Anarchy with cantonal or communal
government.
Finally, state signifies condition, mode of living, the order
of social life, etc., and therefore we say, for example, that it is
necessary to change the economic state of the working classes,
or that the Anarchical state is the only state founded on the
principles of solidarity, and other similar phrases. So that if
we say also in another sense that we wish to abolish the State,
we may at once appear absurd or contradictory.
For these reasons, we believe it would be better to use the
expression _abolition of the State_ as little as possible, and to
substitute for it another clearer and more concrete--_abolition of
government_.
In any case, the latter will be the expression used in the course of
this little work.
--------------------
We have said that Anarchy is society without government. But is the
suppression of government possible, desirable, or wise? Let us see.
What is the government? There is a disease of the human mind called
the metaphysical tendency, causing man, after he has by a logical
process abstracted the quality from an object, to be subject to a
kind of hallucination which makes him take the abstraction for the
real thing. This metaphysical tendency, in spite of the blows of
positive science, has still strong root in the minds of the majority
of our contemporary fellow men. It has such an influence that many
consider government an actual entity, with certain given attributes
of reason, justice, equity, independently of the people who compose
the government.
For those who think in this way, government, or the State, is the
abstract social power, and it represents, always in the abstract,
the general interest. It is the expression of the right of all, and
considered as limited by the rights of each. This way of
understanding government is supported by those interested, to whom
it is an urgent necessity that the principle of authority should be
maintained, and should always survive the faults and errors of the
persons who succeed to the exercise of power.
For us, the government is the aggregate of the governors; and the
governors--kings, presidents, ministers, members of parliament,
and what not--are those who have the power to make laws, to regulate
the relations between men, and to force obedience to these laws.
They are those who decide upon and claim the taxes, enforce military
service, judge and punish transgressions of the laws. They subject
men to regulations, and supervise and sanction private contracts.
They monopolize certain branches of production and public services,
or, if they wish, all production and public service. They promote
or hinder the exchange of goods. They make war or peace with the
governments of other countries. They concede or withhold free trade
and many things else. In short, the governors are those who
have the power, in a greater or less degree, to make use of the
collective force of society, that is, of the physical, intellectual,
and economic force of all, to oblige each to do the said governor's
wish. And this power constitutes, in our opinion, the very principle
of government, the principle of authority.
But what reason is there for the existence of government?
Why abdicate one's own liberty, one's own initiative in favor
of other individuals? Why give them the power to be the masters,
with or contrary to the wish of each, to dispose of the forces of
all in their own way? Are the governors such very exceptionally
gifted men as to enable them, with some show of reason, to represent
the masses, and act in the interest of all men better than all men
would be able to do for themselves? Are they so infallible and
incorruptible that one can confide to them, with any semblance of
prudence, the fate of each and all, trusting to their knowledge
and their goodness?
And even if there existed men of infinite goodness and knowledge,
even if we assume what has never been verified in history, and what
we believe it would be impossible to verify, namely, that the
government might devolve upon the ablest and best, would the
possession of governmental power add anything to their beneficent
influence? Would it not rather paralyze or destroy it? For those who
govern find it necessary to occupy themselves with things which they
do not understand, and, above all, to waste the greater part of
their energy in keeping themselves in power, striving to satisfy
their friends, holding the discontented in check, and mastering the
rebellious.
Again, be the governors good or bad, wise or ignorant, who is it
that appoints them to their office? Do they impose themselves
by right of war, conquest, or revolution? Then, what guarantees have
the public that their rulers have the general good at heart? In this
case it is simply a question of usurpation; and if the subjects are
discontented, nothing is left to them but to throw off the yoke, by
an appeal to arms. Are the governors chosen from a certain class or
party? Then certainly the ideas and interests of that class or party
will triumph, and the wishes and interests of the others will be
sacrificed. Are they elected by universal suffrage? Now numbers are
the sole criterion; and numbers are certainly no proof of reason,
justice or capacity. Under universal suffrage, the elected are those
who know best how to take in the masses. The minority, which may
happen to be half minus one, is sacrificed. And that without
considering that there is another thing to take into account.
Experience has shown it is impossible to hit upon an electoral
system which really ensures election by the actual majority.
Many and various are the theories by which men have sought to
justify the existence of government. All, however, are founded,
confessedly or not, on the assumption that the individuals of
a society have contrary interests, and that an external superior
power is necessary to oblige some to respect the interests of
others, by prescribing and imposing a rule of conduct, according to
which the interests at strife may be harmonized as much as possible,
and according to which each obtains the maximum of satisfaction
with the minimum of sacrifice. If, say the theorists of the
authoritarian school, the interests, tendencies, and desires of
an individual are in opposition to those of another individual, or
mayhap all society, who will have the right and the power to
oblige the one to respect the interests of the others? Who will
be able to prevent the individual citizen from offending the general
will? The liberty of each, say they, has for its limit the liberty
of others; but who will establish those limits, and who will cause
them to be respected? The natural antagonism of interests and
passions creates the necessity for government, and justifies
authority. Authority intervenes as moderator of the social
strife, and defines the limits of the rights and duties of each.
This is the theory; but the theory, to be sound, ought to be
based upon facts, and to explain them. We know well how in social
economy theories are too often invented to justify facts, that
is, to defend privilege and cause it to be accepted tranquilly by
those who are its victims. Let us here look at the facts themselves.
In all the course of history, as at the present epoch, government
is either the brutal, violent, arbitrary domination of the few over
the many, or it is an instrument ordained to secure domination and
privilege to those who, by force, or cunning, or inheritance, have
taken to themselves all the means of life, and first and foremost
the soil, whereby they hold the people in servitude, making them
work for their advantage.
Governments oppress mankind in two ways, either directly, by brute
force, that is physical violence, or indirectly, by depriving
them of the means of subsistence and thus reducing them to
helplessness at discretion. Political power originated in the
first method; economic privilege arose from the second. Governments
can also oppress man by acting on his emotional nature, and in this
way constitute religious authority. But there is no reason for the
propagation of religious superstitions except that they defend and
consolidate political and economic privileges.
In primitive society, when the world was not so densely populated
as now, and social relations were less complicated, when any
circumstance prevented the formation of habits and customs of
solidarity, or destroyed those which already existed, and
established the domination of man over man, the two powers,
the political and the economical, were united in the same hands
--and often also in those of one single individual. Those who
had by force conquered and impoverished the others, constrained
them to become their servants, and perform all things for them
according to their caprice. The victors were at once proprietors,
legislators, kings, judges, and executioners.
But with the increase of population, with the growth of needs,
with the complication of social relationships, the prolonged
continuance of such despotism became impossible. For their own
security, the rulers, often much against their will, were obliged
to depend upon a privileged class, that is, a certain number of
co-interested individuals, and were also obliged to let each of
these individuals provide for his own sustenance. Nevertheless
they reserved to themselves the supreme or ultimate control. In
other words, the rulers reserved to themselves the right to exploit
all at their own convenience, and so to satisfy their kingly vanity.
Thus private wealth was developed under the shadow of the ruling
power, for its protection and--often unconsciously--as its
accomplice. Thus the class of proprietors rose. And they,
concentrating little by little the means of wealth in their
own hands, all the means of production, the very fountains of
life--agriculture, industry, and exchange--ended by becoming
a power in themselves. This power, by the superiority of its
means of action, and the great mass of interests it embraces,
always ends by more or less openly subjugating the political
power, that is, the government, which it makes its policeman.
This phenomenon has been reproduced often in history. Every time
that, by invasion or any military enterprise whatever, physical
brute force has taken the upper hand in society, the conquerors
have shown the tendency to concentrate government and property in
their own hands. In every case, however, as the government cannot
attend to the production of wealth, and overlook and direct
everything, it finds it needful to conciliate a powerful class,
and private property is again established. With it comes the
division of the two sorts of power, that of the persons who
control the collective force of society, and that of the
proprietors, upon whom these governors become essentially
independent, because the proprietors command the sources of the
said collective force.
But never has this state of things been so accentuated as in
modern times. The development of production, the immense extension
of commerce, the extensive power that money has acquired, and all
the economic results flowing from the discovery of America, the
invention of machinery, etc., have secured such supremacy to the
capitalist class that it is no longer content to trust to the
support of the government, and has come to wish that the government
shall emanate from itself; a government composed of members of its
own class, continually under its control and especially organized
to defend its class against the possible revenge of the
disinherited. Hence the origin of the modern parliamentary system.
Today the government is composed of proprietors, or people of their
class so entirely under their influence that the richest of them do
not find it necessary to take an active part in it themselves.
Rothschild, for instance, does not need to be either M.P. or
minister, it is enough for him to keep M.P.'s and ministers
dependent upon himself.
In many countries, the proletariat participates nominally, more or
less, in the election of the government. This is a concession
which the _bourgeois_ (_i. e._, proprietory) class have made,
either to avail themselves of popular support in the strife against
royal or aristocratic power, or to divert the attention of the
people from their own emancipation by giving them an apparent
share in political power. However, whether the _bourgeoisie_
foresaw it or not, when first they conceded to the people the
right to vote, the fact is that the right has proved in reality a
mockery, serving only to consolidate the power of the _bourgeois_,
while giving to the most energetic only of the proletariat the
illusory hope of arriving at power.
So also with universal suffrage--we might say, especially with
universal suffrage--the government has remained the servant
and police of the _bourgeois_ class. How could it be otherwise?
If the government should reach the point of becoming hostile, if the
hope of democracy should ever be more than a delusion deceiving the
people, the proprietory class, menaced in its interests, would at
once rebel, and would use all the force and influence which come
from the possession of wealth, to reduce the government to the
simple function of acting as policeman.
In all times and in all places, whatever may be the name that the
government takes, whatever has been its origin, or its organization,
its essential function is always that of oppressing and exploiting
the masses, and of defending the oppressors and exploiters. Its
principal characteristic and indispensable instruments are the
bailiff and the tax collector, the soldier and the prison. And to
these are necessarily added the time-serving priest or teacher, as
the case may be, supported and protected by the government, to
render the spirit of the people servile and make them docile under
the yoke.
Certainly, in addition to this primary business, to this essential
department of governmental action other departments have been added
in the course of time. We even admit that never, or hardly ever, has
a government been able to exist in a country that was at all
civilized without adding to its oppressing and exploiting functions
others useful and indispensable to social life. But this fact makes
it none the less true that government is in its nature oppressive
and a means of exploitation, and that its origin and position doom
it to be the defence and hot-bed of a dominant class, thus
confirming and increasing the evils of domination.
The government assumes the business of protecting, more or less
vigilantly, the life of citizens against direct and brutal attacks;
acknowledges and legalizes a certain number of rights and primitive
usages and customs, without which it is impossible to live in
society. It organizes and directs certain public services,
as the post, preservation and construction of roads, care of
the public health, benevolent institutions, workhouses and such
like; and it pleases it to pose as the protector and benefactor of
the poor and weak. But it is sufficient to notice how and why
it fulfils these functions to prove our point. The fact is that
everything the government undertakes it is always inspired with
the spirit of domination, and ordained to defend, enlarge, and
perpetuate the privileges of property, and those classes of which
government is the representative and defender.
A government cannot rule for any length of time without hiding its
true nature behind the pretence of general utility. It cannot
respect the lives of the privileged without assuming the air of
wishing to respect the lives of all. It cannot cause the privileges
of some to be tolerated without appearing as the custodian
of the rights of everybody. "The law" (and, of course, those that
have made the law, that is, the government) "has utilized," says
Kropotkin, "the social sentiments of man, working into them those
precepts of morality, which man has accepted, together with
arrangements useful to the minority--the exploiters--and opposed to
the interests of those who might have rebelled, had it not been for
this show of a moral ground."
A government cannot wish the destruction of the community, for then
it and the dominant class could not claim their exploitation-gained
wealth; nor could the government leave the community to manage its
own affairs; for then the people would soon discover that it
(the government) was necessary for no other end than to defend the
proprietory class who impoverish them, and would hasten to rid
themselves of both government and proprietory class.
Today in the face of the persistent and menacing demands of
the proletariat, governments show a tendency to interfere in the
relations between employers and work people. Thus they try to arrest
the labor movement, and to impede with delusive reforms the attempts
of the poor to take to themselves that which is due to them, namely
an equal share of the good things of life which others enjoy.
We must also remember that on the one hand the bourgeois, that is,
the proprietory class, make war among themselves, and destroy one
another continually, and on the other hand that the government,
although composed of the _bourgeois_ and, acting as their servant
and protector, is still, like every other servant or protector,
continually striving to emancipate itself and to domineer over its
charge. Thus this see-saw game, this swaying between conceding and
withdrawing, this seeking allies among the people against the
classes, and among the classes against the masses, forms the science
of the governors, and blinds the ingenuous and phlegmatic, who are
always expecting that salvation is coming to them from on high.
With all this, the government does not change its nature. If it acts
as regulator or guarantor of the rights and duties of each, it
perverts the sentiment of justice. It justifies wrong and punishes
every act which offends or menaces the privileges of the governors
and proprietors. It declares just, _legal_, the most atrocious
exploitation of the miserable, which means a slow and continuous
material and moral murder, perpetrated by those who have on those
who have not. Again, if it administrates public services, it always
considers the interests of the governors and proprietors, not
occupying itself with the interests of the working masses, except
in so far as is necessary to make the masses willing to endure their
share of taxation. If it instructs, it fetters and curtails the
truth, and tends to prepare the mind and heart of the young to
become either implacable tyrants or docile slaves, according to the
class to which they belong. In the hands of the government
everything becomes a means of exploitation, everything serves as a
police measure, useful to hold the people in check. And it must be
thus. If the life of mankind consists in strife between man and
man, naturally there must be conquerors and conquered; and the
government, which is the prize of the strife, or is a means of
securing to the victors the results of their victory, and
perpetuating those results, will certainly never fall to those who
have lost, whether the battle be on the grounds of physical or
intellectual strength, or in the field of economics. And those who
have fought to conquer, that is, to secure to themselves better
conditions than others can have, to conquer privilege and add
dominion to power, and have attained the victory, will certainly
not use it to defend the rights of the vanquished, and to place
limits to their own power and to that of their friends and partizans.
The government--or the State, if you will--as judge, moderator
of social strife, impartial administrator of the public interests,
is a lie. It is an illusion, a Utopia, never realized and never
realizable. If in truth, the interests of men must always be
contrary to one another; if indeed, the strife between mankind
has made laws necessary to human society, and the liberty of
the individual must be limited by the liberty of other individuals;
then each one would always seek to make his interests triumph
over those of others. Each would strive to enlarge his own liberty
at the cost of the liberty of others, and there would be government.
Not simply because it was more or less useful to the totality of the
members of society to have a government, but because the conquerors
would wish to secure to themselves the fruits of victory. They would
wish effectually to subject the vanquished, and relieve themselves
of the trouble of being always on the defensive, and they would
appoint men, specially adapted to the business, to act as police.
Were this indeed actually the case, then humanity would be destined
to perish amidst periodical contests between the tyranny of the
dominators and the rebellion of the conquered.
But fortunately the future of humanity is a happier one, because
the law which governs it is milder.
This law is the law of _solidarity_.
--------------------
I.
Man has two necessary fundamental characteristics, _the instinct
of his own preservation_, without which no being could exist,
and _the instinct of the preservation of his species_, without which
no species could have been formed or have continued to exist.
He is naturally driven to defend his own existence and well-being
and that of his offspring against every danger.
In nature, living beings find two ways of securing their existence,
and rendering it pleasanter. The one is in individual strife with
the elements, and with other individuals of the same or different
species; the other is _mutual support_, or _co-operation_, which
might also be described as association for strife against all
natural factors, destructive to existence, or to the development
and well-being of the associated.
We do not need to investigate in these pages--and we cannot
for lack of space--what respective proportions in the evolution
of the organic world these two principles of strife and co-operation
take.
It will suffice to note how co-operation among men (whether
forced or voluntary) has become the sole means of progress, of
improvement or of securing safety; and how strife--relic of an
earlier stage of existence--has become thoroughly unsuitable as
a means of securing the well-being of individuals, and produces
instead injury to all, both the conquerors and the conquered.
The accumulated and transmitted experience of successive generations
has taught man that by uniting with other men his preservation is
better secured and his well-being increased. Thus out of this same
strife for existence, carried on against surrounding nature, and
against individuals of their own species, the social instinct has
been developed among men, and has completely transformed the
conditions of their life. Through co-operation man has been enabled
to evolve out of animalism, has risen to great power, and elevated
himself to such a degree above the other animals, that metaphysical
philosophers have believed it necessary to invent for him an
immaterial and immortal soul.
Many concurrent causes have contributed to the formation of this
social instinct, that starting from the animal basis of the
instinct for the preservation of the species, has now become so
extended and so intense that it constitutes the essential element
of man's moral nature.
Man, however he evolved from inferior animal types, was a physically
weak being, unarmed for the fight against carnivorous beasts. But he
was possessed of a brain capable of great development, and a vocal
organ, able to express the various cerebral vibrations, by means of
diverse sounds, and hands adapted to give the desired form to
matter. He must have very soon felt the need and advantages of
association with his fellows. Indeed it may even be said that he
could only rise out of animalism when he became social, and had
acquired the use of language, which is at the same time a
consequence and a potent factor of sociability.
The relatively scanty number of the human species rendered the
strife for existence between man and man, even beyond the limits
of association, less sharp, less continuous, and less necessary.
At the same time, it must have greatly favored the development
of sympathetic sentiments, and have left time for the discovery
and appreciation of the utility of mutual support. In short,
social life became the necessary condition of man's existence,
in consequence of his capacity to modify his external surroundings
and adapt them to his own wants, by the exercise of his primeval
power in co-operation with a greater or less number of associates.
His desires have multiplied with the means of satisfying them, and
have become needs. And division of labor has arisen from man's
methodical use of nature for his own advantage. Therefore, as now
evolved, man could not live apart from his fellows without falling
back into a state of animalism. Through the refinement of
sensibility, with the multiplication of social relationships, and
through habit impressed on the species by hereditary transmission
for thousands of centuries, this need of social life, this
interchange of thought and of affection between man and man, has
become a mode of being necessary for our organism. It has been
transformed into sympathy, friendship and love, and subsists
independently of the material advantages that association procures.
So much is this the case, that man will often face suffering of
every kind, and even death, for the satisfaction of these sentiments.
The fact is that a totally different character has been given
to the strife for existence between man and man, and between
the inferior animals, by the enormous advantages that association
gives to man; by the fact that his physical powers are altogether
disproportionate to his intellectual superiority over the beasts,
so long as he remains isolated; by his possibility of associating
with an ever increasing number of individuals, and entering into
more and more intricate and complex relationships, until he
reaches association with all humanity; and, finally, perhaps
more than all, by his ability to produce, working in co-operation
with others, more than he needs to live upon. It is evident that
these causes, together with the sentiments of affection derived
from them, must give quite a peculiar character to the struggle
for existence among human beings.
Although it is now known--and the researches of modern naturalists
bring us every day new proofs--that co-operation has played, and
still plays, a most important part in the development of the organic
world, nevertheless, the difference between the human struggle for
existence and that of the inferior animals is enormous. It is in
fact proportionate to the distance separating man from the other
animals. And this is none the less true because of that Darwinian
theory, which the _bourgeois_ class have ridden to death, little
suspecting the extent to which mutual co-operation has assisted in
the development of the lower animals.
The lower animals fight either individually, or, more often,
in little permanent or transitory groups, against all nature, the
other individuals of their own species included. Some of the
more social animals, such as ants, bees, etc., associate together
in the same anthill, or beehive, but are at war with, or indifferent
towards, other communities of their own species. Human strife with
nature, on the contrary, tends always to broaden association among
men, to unite their interests, and to develop each individual's
sentiments of affection towards all others, so that united they may
conquer and dominate the dangers of external nature by and for
humanity.
All strife directed towards obtaining advantages independently
of other men, and in opposition to them, contradicts the social
nature of modern man, and tends to lead it back to a more animal
condition.
_Solidarity_, that is, harmony of interests and sentiments, the
sharing of each in the good of all, and of all in the good of each,
is the state in which alone man can be true to his own nature,
and attain to the highest development and happiness. It is the
aim towards which human development tends. It is the one great
principle, capable of reconciling all present antagonisms in
society, otherwise irreconcilable. It causes the liberty of each
to find not its limits, but its complement, the necessary condition
of its continual existence--in the liberty of all.
"No man," says Michael Bakunin, "can recognize his own human worth,
nor in consequence realize his full development, if he does not
recognize the worth of his fellow men, and in co-operation
with them, realize his own development through them. No man
can emancipate himself, unless at the same time he emancipates
those around him. My freedom is the freedom of all; for I am not
really free--free not only in thought, but in deed--if my freedom
and my right do not find their confirmation and sanction in the
liberty and right of all men my equals.
"It matters much to me what all other men are, for however
independent I may seem, or may believe myself to be, by virtue
of my social position, whether as pope, czar, emperor, or prime
minister, I am all the while the product of those who are the
least among men. If these are ignorant, miserable, or enslaved,
my existence is limited by their ignorance, misery, or slavery.
I, though an intelligent and enlightened man, am made stupid
by their stupidity; though brave, am enslaved by their slavery;
though rich, tremble before their poverty; though privileged,
grow pale at the thought of possible justice for them. I, who
wish to be free, cannot be so, because around me are men who
do not yet desire freedom, and, not desiring it, become, as opposed
to me, the instruments of my oppression."
Solidarity, then, is the condition in which man can attain the
highest degree of security and of well-being. Therefore, egoism
itself, that is, the exclusive consideration of individual interests,
impels man and human society towards solidarity. Or rather egoism
and altruism (consideration of the interests of others) are
united in this one sentiment, as the interest of the individual is
one with the interests of society.
However, man could not pass at once from animalism to humanity;
from brutal strife between man and man to the collective strife
of all mankind, united in one brotherhood of mutual aid against
external nature.
Guided by the advantages that association and the consequent
division of labor offer, man evolved towards solidarity, but his
evolution encountered an obstacle which led him, and still leads
him, away from his aim. He discovered that he could realize
the advantages of co-operation, at least up to a certain point,
and for the material and primitive wants that then comprised
all his needs, by making other men subject to himself, instead
of associating on an equality with them. Thus the ferocious
and anti-social instincts, inherited from his bestial ancestry,
again obtained the upper hand. He forced the weaker to work
for him, preferring to domineer over rather than to associate
fraternally with his fellows. Perhaps also in most cases it was
by exploiting the conquered in war that man learnt for the first
time the benefits of association and the help that can be obtained
from mutual support.
Thus it has come about that the establishment of the utility
of co-operation, which ought to lead to the triumph of solidarity
in all human concerns, has turned to the advantage of private
property and of government; in other words, to the exploitation
of the labor of the many, for the sake of the privileged few.
There has always been association and co-operation, without
which human life would be impossible; but it has been co-operation
imposed and regulated by the few in their own particular interest.
From this fact arises a great contradiction with which the history
of mankind is filled. On the one hand, we find the tendency
to associate and fraternize for the purpose of conquering and
adapting the external world to human needs, and for the satisfaction
of the human affections; while, on the other hand we see the
tendency to divide into as many separate and hostile factions as
there are different conditions of life. These factions are
determined, for instance, by geographical and ethnological
conditions, by differences in economic position, by privileges
acquired by some and sought to be secured by others, or by suffering
endured, with the ever recurring desire to rebel.
The principle of each for himself, that is, of war of all against
all, has come in the course of time to complicate, lead astray,
and paralyze the war of all combined against nature, for the
common advantage of the human race, which could only be completely
successful by acting on the principle of all for each, and each
for all.
Great have been the evils which humanity has suffered by this
intermingling of domination and exploitation with human association.
But in spite of the atrocious oppression to which the masses submit,
of the misery, vice, crime, and degradation which oppression and
slavery produce, among the slaves and their masters, and in spite
of the hatreds, the exterminating wars, and the antagonisms of
artificially created interests, the social instinct has survived
and even developed. Co-operation, having been always the necessary
condition for successful combat against external nature, has
therefore been the permanent cause of men's coming together, and
consequently of the development of their sympathetic sentiments.
Even the oppression of the masses has itself caused the oppressed
to fraternize among themselves. Indeed it has been solely owing
to this feeling of solidarity, more or less conscious and more or
less widespread among the oppressed, that they have been able to
endure the oppression, and that man has resisted the causes of death
in his midst.
In the present, the immense development of production, the growth of
human needs which cannot be satisfied except by the united efforts
of a large number of men in all countries, the extended means of
communication, habits of travel, science, literature, commerce,
even war itself--all these have drawn and are still drawing
humanity into a compact body, every section of which, closely knit
together, can find its satisfaction and liberty only in the
development and health of all other sections composing the whole.
The inhabitant of Naples is as much interested in the amelioration
of the hygienic condition of the peoples on the banks of the Ganges,
from whence the cholera is brought to him, as in the improvement of
the sewerage of his own town. The well-being, liberty, or fortune
of the mountaineer, lost among the precipices of the Appenines, does
not depend alone on the state of well-being or of misery in which
the inhabitants of his own village live, or even on the general
condition of the Italian people, but also on the condition of the
workers in America, or Australia, on the discovery of a Swedish
scientist, on the moral and material conditions of the Chinese, on
war or peace in Africa; in short, it depends on all the great and
small circumstances which affect the human being in any spot
whatever of the world.
In the present condition of society, the vast solidarity which
unites all men is in a great degree unconscious, since it arises
spontaneously from the friction of particular interests, while
men occupy themselves little or not at all with general interests.
And this is the most evident proof that solidarity is the natural
law of human life, which imposes itself, so to speak, in spite of
all obstacles, and even those artificially created by society as at
present constituted.
On the other hand, the oppressed masses, never wholly resigned
to oppression and misery, who today more than ever show themselves
ardent for justice, liberty, and well-being, are beginning
to understand that they cannot emancipate themselves except
by uniting, through solidarity with all the oppressed and exploited
over the whole world. And they understand also that the
indispensable condition of their emancipation is the possession
of the means of production, of the soil and of the instruments of
labor, and further the abolition of private property. Science
and the observation of social phenomena show that this abolition
would be of immense advantage in the end, even to the privileged
classes, if only they could bring themselves to renounce the spirit
of domination, and concur with all their fellow men in laboring for
the common good.
----------
Now, should the oppressed masses some day refuse to work for their
oppressors, should they take possession of the soil and the
instruments of labor, and apply them for their own use and
advantage, and that of all who work, should they no longer submit
to the domination, either of brute force or economic privilege;
should the spirit of human fellowship and the sentiment of human
solidarity, strengthened by common interests, grow among the
people, and put an end to strife between nations; then what ground
would there be for the existence of a government?
Private property abolished, government--which is its defender
--must disappear. Should it survive, it would continually tend
to reconstruct, under one form or another, a privileged and
oppressive class.
And the abolition of government does not, nor cannot, signify
the doing away with human association.
Far otherwise, for that co-operation which today is enforced,
and directed to the advantage of the few, would be free and
voluntary, directed to the advantage of all. Therefore it would
become more intense and efficacious.
The social instinct and the sentiment of solidarity would develop to
the highest degree; and every individual would do all in his power
for the good of others, as much for the satisfaction of his own
well understood interests as for the gratification of his
sympathetic sentiments.
By the free association of all, a social organization would
arise through the spontaneous grouping of men according to
their needs and sympathies, from the low to the high, from the
simple to the complex, starting from the more immediate to
arrive at the more distant and general interests. This organization
would have for its aim the greatest good and fullest liberty
to all; it would embrace all humanity in one common brotherhood,
and would be modified and improved as circumstances were modified
and changed, according to the teachings of experience.
This society of _free men_, this society of _friends_ would be
_Anarchy_.
--------------------
II.
We have hitherto considered government as it is, and as it
necessarily must be in a society founded upon privilege, upon
the exploitation and oppression of man by man, upon antagonism
of interests and social strife, in a word, upon private property.
We have seen how this state of strife, far from being a necessary
condition of human life, is contrary to the interests of the
individual and of the species. We have observed how co-operation,
solidarity (of interest) is the law of human progress, and
we have concluded that, with the abolition of private property
and the cessation of all domination of man over man, there,
would be no reason for government to exist--therefore it ought
to be abolished.
But, it may be objected, if the principle on which social
organization is now founded were to be changed, and solidarity
substituted for strife, common property for private property, the
government also would change its nature. Instead of being the
protector and representative of the interests of one class, it would
become, if there were no longer any classes, representative of all
society. Its mission would be to secure and regulate social
co-operation in the interests of all, and to fulfil public services
of general utility. It would defend society against possible
attempts to re-establish privilege, and prevent or repress all
attacks, by whomsoever set on foot, against the life, well-being, or
liberty of each.
There are in society certain matters too important, requiring
too much constant, regular attention, for them to be left to the
voluntary management of individuals, without danger of everything
getting into disorder.