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Title: Anarchy, Power, and Poststructuralism Author: Allan Antliff Language: en Topics: Max Stirner, post-anarchism, post-structuralist Source: Retrieved on 19 October 2010 from http://libcom.org/forums/theory/post-anarchism-06042010
“Finally came Stirner, the prophet of contemporary anarchism.”
— Frederick Engels, Ludwig Feuerbach and the End of Classical German
Philosophy (1886)
In 1994 Todd May initiated a new turn in contemporary theory —
poststructuralist anarchism, commonly abbreviated to “post-anarchism.”
May’s seminal study, The Political Philosophy of Poststructuralist
Anarchism called attention to ways in which the political philosophy of
anarchism echoes the concerns of poststructuralist thought, notably in
its critique of oppression. Taking aim at Marxism, he (rightly) argued
that anarchism has a more sophisticated grasp of how oppression
disperses across the social field. According to May, Marxists did not
address the hierarchical relations sustaining this state of affairs.
Instead, they called for the seizure of the reigns of power by a
benighted proletariat that would subordinate society to its will by
restructuring economic relations in the image of socialism (49). [1]
Historically, anarchists opposed this, because they were suspicious of
any social formation, however well intentioned, exercising power over
others. Anarchism interrogated relations of domination with the goal of
destroying all representational forms of power, precisely because such
politics are always already at one remove from the represented (May,
50).
However, as a corollary to his praise for this thorough-going attack on
domination in all its forms, May argued that anarchism (theoretically)
was not up to the task of realizing its political potential. Referencing
“classical” figures from the nineteenth-century European wing of the
movement, May suggested that anarchists had yet to come to terms with
power as a positive ground for action. The anarchist project, he argued,
is based on a fallacious “humanist” notion that “the human essence is a
good essence, which relations of power suppress and deny.” This
impoverished notion of power as ever oppressive, never productive, was
the Achilles heel of anarchist political philosophy (ibid., 62). Hence
May’s call for a new and improved “poststructuralist anarchism.” The
poststructuralist anarchist would not shy away from power: she would
shed the husk of humanism the better to exercise power “tactically”
within an ethical practice guided by Habermas’s universalist theory of
communicative action (ibid., 146).
My purpose is not to further May’s positioning of anarchism as
poststructuralist. Rather, I am interested in the claim that “classical”
anarchism — and by extension, contemporary anarchism — founds its
politics on a flawed conception of power and its relationship to
society. Based on this premise, May has urged anarchist-oriented
theorists to press on without looking back — and some, notably Lewis
Call and Saul Newman, have done just that. [2] But surely, if one claims
to be fundamentally revising a political tradition, then one has an
obligation to familiarize oneself with that tradition’s theoretical
foundations. This is my modest aim: to provide a brief corrective
meditation on “classical” anarchism and power.
Let us begin with Emma Goldman’s (1869–1940) closing summary of
anarchist principles, circa 1900, from her essay, “Anarchism: What it
Really Stands For”:
Anarchism, then, really stands for the liberation of the human mind from
the domination of religion; the liberation of the human body from the
domination of property; liberation from the shackles and restraint of
government. Anarchism stands for a social order based on the free
grouping of individuals for the purpose of producing real social wealth,
an order that will guarantee to every human being free access to the
earth and full enjoyment of the necessities of life, according to
individual desires, tastes, and inclinations. (62)
Goldman’s statement certainly confirms May’s point concerning how
anarchism widens the political field (May, 50). Goldman critiques
religion for oppressing us psychologically, capitalist economics for
endangering our corporal well-being, and government for shutting down
our freedoms. She also asserts that the purpose of anarchism is to
liberate humanity from these tyrannies. That said, one searches in vain
for any suggestion that Goldman’s liberated individuals are, as May
would have it, a priori good. Rather, she posits a situated politics in
which individuality differentiates endlessly, according to each
subject’s “desires, tastes and inclinations.”
Goldman counted anarchist-communist Peter Kropotkin (1842–1921) among
her most important influences, so it is appropriate we turn to him for
further insight regarding the anarchist subject. In his 1896 essay,
“Anarchism: Its Philosophy and Ideal” (Kropotkin, 143), Kropotkin wrote
that anarchism was synonymous with “variety, conflict.” In an anarchist
society “anti-social” behavior would inevitably arise, as it does at
present; the difference being that this behavior, if judged
reprehensible, would be dealt with according to anarchist principles, as
he argued in his 1891 “Anarchist Morality” (Kropotkin, 106). More
positively, the libertarian refusal to “model individuals according to
an abstract idea” or “mutilate them by religion, law or government”
allowed for a specifically anarchist type of morality to flourish
(ibid., 113). This morality entailed the unceasing interrogation of
existing social norms, in recognition that morals are social constructs,
and that there are no absolutes guiding ethical behavior. Quoting “the
unconsciously anarchist” Jean-Marie Guyau (1824–1882), Kropotkin
characterized anarchist morality as “a superabundance of life, which
demands to be exercised, to give itself ... the consciousness of power”
(ibid., 108). He continued: “Be strong. Overflow with emotional and
intellectual energy, and you will spread your intelligence, your love,
your energy of action broadcast among others! This is what all moral
teaching comes to” (ibid., 109). Shades of Friedrich Nietzsche?
Kropotkin is citing a passage from Guyau’s Esquisse d’une morale sans
obligation, ni sanction (1884), a book that also influenced Nietzsche’s
“overman” concept and the related idea of going “beyond good and evil” —
an interesting confluence, to say the least, given poststructuralism’s
indebtedness to the German philosopher. [3] More to the point,
Kropotkin’s subject, who exercises power by shaping her own values to
accord with a “superabundance” of life, is antithetical to May’s claim
regarding “classic” anarchism: “human essence is a good essence, which
relations of power suppress and deny.” Kropotkin, contra May, embeds
power in the subject and configures the unleashing of that power on
morality as the marker of social liberation, predicting that it will
generate both “anti-social” (fostering debate) and “social” (socially
accepted) behavior in the process.
Indeed, it is worth underlining that the anarchist subject’s power,
situated socially, it is not reactive; it is generative. Kropotkin wants
power to “overflow”; it has to if a free social order is to be realized.
We find the same perspective articulated by Michael Bakunin (1846–1881),
the anarchist who most famously declared “the destructive urge is also a
creative urge” in his reflections on freedom and equality:
I am free only when all human beings surrounding me — men and women
alike — are equally free. The freedom of others, far from limiting or
negating my liberty, is on the contrary its necessary condition and
confirmation. I become free in the true sense only by virtue of the
liberty of others, so much so that the greater the number of free people
surrounding me the deeper and greater and more extensive their liberty,
the deeper and larger becomes my liberty. (267)
Anarchist social theory develops out of this perspective. Bakunin goes
on to theorize the necessity of socializing property in the name of
individual liberty. Rejecting both state-adjudicated socialism and
capitalism, he declares, “We are convinced that freedom without
socialism is privilege and injustice, and that socialism without freedom
is slavery and brutality” (ibid., 269). Kropotkin similarly argued for
the necessity of socializing property, while Pierre Joseph Proudhon
(1809–1864), upheld the institution of private ownership on a small
scale on the condition that it never become an instrument of domination.
[4]
Again, theory mitigates against the characterizations of the
poststructuralist anarchists. In “Anarchism and the Politics of
Resentment,” Saul Newman asserts that “classical” anarchism assumes
“society and our everyday actions, although oppressed by power, are
ontologically separate from it” (120). But if power is separate from
society, why has so much theorizing been devoted to the social
conditions through which libertarian power can be realized? The
poststructuralist anarchists have yet to acknowledge, let alone address,
this issue.
How do we account for the “classical” blind spot in their field of
vision? I would conjecture that it arises from a particular genealogy.
As Jonathan Purkis relates, in the 1960s the key theorists of
poststructuralism emerged from and were reacting to the radical wing of
a structuralist movement dominated by Marxism. Having adopted the
structuralist critique of the Enlightenment subject as unitary and
absolute, they then rejected the Marxist hierarchy of social forces that
determined, in the last instance, the subject’s formation (Purkis,
50).[5] Seeking to develop a more dynamic notion of the decentered
subject while deepening their critique of authoritarianism in all its
guises, poststructuralists drew, in the first instance, on Nietzsche as
the understudied alternative to Marx (see Purkis, 51–52). Anarchism, it
appears, never showed itself on the political horizon. Perhaps this can
be attributed to a lingering misreading of the anarchist subject as just
another variation of the humanist individual, autonomous from the social
forces, which structuralism attacked. [6] This, after all, was the
accusation leveled by Marx and Engels in their polemics against the
anarchists of their day — notably Bakunin and Max Stirner (1806–1856).
[7] It is ironic indeed, then, to encounter the same claim being leveled
over 150 years after the fact by poststructuralist anarchists.
Be that as it may, “classical” anarchism offers some promising avenues
for exploration, as a brief examination of anarchist theory and practice
in Moscow during the Russian Revolution (1917–1921) reveals. From its
founding in 1917 until its untimely demise, the locus of anarchist
activity in Russia’s capital was the Moscow Federation of Anarchist
Groups. The Federation was founded in March 1917 after the Russian
Tsar’s abdication and eventually dissolved around 1919 due to repeated
attacks (raids, arrests, etc.) by the Communist government under Lenin’s
leadership. [8] During its short existence, the Federation’s secretary,
Lev Chernyi, was the organization’s leading theorist. Chernyi expounded
an “associational” anarchism based on Max Stirner’s anti-statist
manifesto, The Ego and Its Own (1848), and this brand of anarchism was
also discussed in the Federation’s newspaper, Anarkhiia. [9] Given its
importance for many in the Federation, therefore, Stirner’s The Ego and
Its Own merits close reading.
Stirner’s thesis is that anarchist liberation could only be accomplished
if all habitual subservience to metaphysical concepts and social norms
ended and each unique individual became egoistic — that is,
self-determining and value-creating. Anti-statism, Stirner argued, was
an inescapable facet of egoism because when the individual achieved
“self-realization of value from himself” he inevitably came to a
“self-consciousness against the state” and its oppressive laws and
regulations (361). The criminalization of society’s outlaws was the
state’s response to those who asserted their desires over the sanction
of morality, law, and authoritarian forms of power (314–19). Every state
formation — monarchical, democratic, socialist or communist — demanded
subservience to abstract principles in a bid to exert power over the
subject. Stirner wrote:
Political liberty means that the polis, the state, is free; freedom of
religion [means] that religion is free, as freedom of conscience
signifies that conscience is free; not, therefore, that I am free from
the state, from religion, from conscience, or that I am rid of them. It
does not mean my liberty, but the liberty of a power that rules and
subjugates me; it means that one of my despots, like state, religion,
conscience, is free. (139)
Stirner posited that an anarchist social order would be based on
voluntary associations (“unions”) of “egoists” acting co-operatively
(414–15). Regarding the Federation from this perspective, we can begin
by noting that it grew by bringing disparate groups together to
“unionize” on a foundation of shared criminality. Its headquarters, “The
House of Anarchy,” was the old civic Merchants’ Club, “confiscated” and
communalized in March, 1917. From there it expanded spontaneously as
anarchists organized themselves into clubs, joined the Federation, and
began contributing to the collective welfare. By way of furthering
mutual aid within the Federation, detachments of “Black Guards”
continued to carry out expropriations — building occupations in the main
— into the spring of 1918 (Avrich, The Russian Anarchists, 179–80;
184–85). In April, 1918, these activities would serve as the excuse for
Lenin’s Communist government to conduct a series of police raids against
the Federation. The official goal was to arrest and charge “robber
bands” in the anarchist ranks — an assertion of the power of the
Communist state over anarchist direct action — but the authorities
quickly expanded the scope of illegality, announcing that “entire
counter-revolutionary groups” had joined the Federation with the aim of
“some covert action against Soviet [government] power” (Antliff, 200).
Following this logic, smashing the organizational structure of the
state’s most determined opponents “just happened” to go hand-in-hand
with law enforcement. From an anarchist perspective, of course, the
raids were tantamount to “executing” freedom, to paraphrase the editors
of the anarchist Burevestnik (The Petrel) (ibid.) Certainly they
underlined the stark contrast between the anarchist exercise of social
power and state power in its Marxist guise. After the attack in Moscow
and similar raids in St. Petersburg, the legality of anarchist activity
was subject to the whims of the state police and the Cheka.
Criminalization effectively brought an end to anarchism as an
above-ground movement within territories controlled by the Communist
Party, and the last instance of libertarian-inspired resistance in
March, 1921 — an uprising of workers, soldiers and sailors at the Island
Fortress of Kronstadt — was destined to be put down in “an orgy of
blood-letting.“ [10]
The Ego and Its Own singled out the proletariat — the “unstable,
restless, changeable” individuals who owe nothing to the state or
capitalism — as the one segment of society capable of solidarity with
those “intellectual vagabonds” who approached the condition of
anarchistic egoism (Stirner, 148–49). Liberation for the proletariat did
not lie in their consciousness of themselves as a class, as Marx
claimed. It would only come if the workers embraced the egotistic
attitude of the “vagabond” and shook off the social and moral
conventions that yoked them to an exploitive order. Once the struggle
for a new, stateless order was underway, the vastness of the working
class ensured the bourgeoisie’s defeat. “If labor becomes free,” Stirner
concluded, “the state is lost” (152).
This class orientation was reflected in the makeup of the Federation’s
clubs and communes, most of which were located in Moscow’s working class
districts (Avrich, 1967, 180). Indeed, the Federation’s
conceptualization of free individuality was indebted to Stirner’s theory
of class (an issue that falls by the wayside in much poststructuralist
thinking) (Callinicos, 121–162). Among Moscow’s anarchists, A.L. and
V.L. Gordin distinguished themselves in this regard. The Gordins were
arch-materialists who argued that religion and science were social
creations, not eternal truths. Manifest Pananarkhistov (Pan-anarchist
Manifesto), a collection published in 1918, opened with the following
declaration:
The rule of heaven and the rule of nature — angels, spirits, devils,
molecules, atoms, ether, the laws of God-heaven and the laws of Nature,
forces, the influence of one body on another — all this is invented,
formed, created by society. (Gordinii 5–7, cited in Avrich, 1967,
177–78)
Here the Gordins took a page from Stirner, who condemned metaphysics and
dismissed the idea of absolute truth as a chimera. Stirner argued that
the metaphysical thinking underpinning religion and the notions of
absolute truth that structured a wide range of theories laid the
foundation for the hierarchical division of society into those with
knowledge and those without. From here a whole train of economic, social
and political inequalities ensued, all of which were antithetical to
anarchist egoism. The egoist, he countered, recognized no metaphysical
realms or absolute truths separate from experience; “knowledge,”
therefore, was ever-changing and varied from individual to individual
(Stirner, 421). The Gordins agreed, arguing that the individualistic
“inventiveness” of the working class made for a sharp contrast with the
“abstract reasoning” of the bourgeoisie and its “criminal
dehumanization” of the individual (Gordinii 28, cited in Avrich, 1967,
178).[11]
Stirner also drew distinctions between insurrection and revolution,
reasoning that whereas revolutions simply changed who was in power,
insurrection signaled a refusal to be subjugated and a determination to
assert egoism over abstract power repeatedly, as an anarchic state of
being. “The insurgent,” wrote Stirner, “strives to be constitutionless,”
a formulation that the program of the Moscow Federation put into
practice (ibid.) Autonomous self-governance, voluntary federation, the
spread of power horizontally — these were the features of its
insurgency. As a result, wherever the Federation held sway, power
remained fluid, unbounded by central authority, and ever-creative in its
manifestations.
No wonder the state-enamored Communists felt compelled to stamp it out.
They saw themselves as the vanguard disciplinarians of the proletariat,
building socialism by molding the masses under the aegis of state
dictatorship. As Lenin put it during the assault on Kronstadt:
Marxism teaches ... that only the political party of the working class
i.e., the Communist Party, is capable of uniting, training, and
organizing a vanguard of the proletariat and of the whole mass of the
working people ... and of guiding all the united activities of the whole
of the proletariat, i.e., of leading it politically, and through it, the
whole mass of the working people. (Lenin 1921, 327)
Ever vigilant, “the dictatorship of the proletariat” was established to
combat the “inevitable petty-bourgeois vacillations of this mass”
towards anarchism during the initial revolutionary upheaval and to
create a socialist society in its aftermath (ibid., 326–27). The
“practical work of building new forms of economy” required a state,
Lenin reasoned (328), because whenever and wherever “petty-bourgeois
anarchy” reared its head, “iron rule government that is revolutionarily
bold, swift, and ruthless” had to repress it (Lenin 1918, 291). And
repress it, it did.
Complementing the power of social insurrectionism, Stirnerist egoism
also called for our psychological empowerment through the cultivation of
a critical consciousness that would, metaphorically, devour oppression.
In the Ego and its Own Stirner deemed belief in a transcendent
unchanging ego to be an alienating form of self-oppression. Libertarian
“egoism,” Stirner wrote, “is not that the ego is all, but the ego
destroys all. Only the self-dissolving ego ... the — finite ego, is
really I. [The philosopher] Fichte speaks of the “absolute” ego, but I
speak of me, the transitory ego” (237). Much like Kropotkin’s moralizing
anarchist, the liberated egoist’s “free, unruly sensuality” overflowed
with ideas — “I am not a mere thought, but at the same time I am full of
thoughts” — a fecund multiplicity that defied absolutes (453). Stirner
characterized the internalization of authoritarian psychology as a mode
of self-forgetting, a desire to escape the corporeal that found ultimate
expression in the otherworldly delusions of immortality prescribed by
Christianity (451–53). The liberated ego, on the other hand, would never
subordinate itself to an abstract truth because it was conscious of its
finitude and gained power from this knowledge. Stirner argued,
‘Absolute thinking’ is that thinking which forgets that it is my
thinking, that I think, and that it exists only through me. But I, as I,
swallow up again what is mine, am its master; it is only my opinion,
which I can at any moment change, i.e.; annihilate, take back into
myself, and consume. (453)
The consuming impulses of liberated egoism left nothing sacrosanct. As
Stirner put it, “there exists not even one truth, not right, not
freedom, humanity, etc., that has stability before me, and to which I
subject myself. They are words, nothing but words” (463). He concludes:
I am the owner of my might, and I am so when I know myself as unique. In
the unique one the owner himself returns into his creative nothing, out
of which he is born. Every higher essence above me, be it God, be it
human, weakens the feeling of my uniqueness, and pales before the sun of
this consciousness. If I concern myself for myself, the unique one, then
my concern rests on its transitory, mortal creator, who consumes
himself, and I may say: I have set my affair on nothing. (490)
Russian anarchism’s engagement with the psychological dimensions of
Stirner’s theory has barely been documented, and the historical and
theoretical threads are too complex to recapitulate here. [12] For now
it will suffice to note that during the movement’s last bid for power in
March, 1921, the rebels at Kronstadt issued two statements, “What We
Fight For” and “Socialism in Quotation Marks,” protesting not only
against political and economic oppression, but also against “the moral
servitude which the Communists have inaugurated” as they “laid their
hands also on the inner world of the toilers, forcing them to think in
the Communist way.” [13] While state power grew;
The life of the citizen became hopelessly monotonous and routine. One
lived according to timetables established by the powers that be. Instead
of the free development of the individual personality and a free
labouring life, there emerged an extraordinary and unprecedented
slavery... Such is the shining kingdom of socialism to which the
dictatorship of the Communist Party has brought us. [14]
Anarchist subjectivity was a threat to the regime because freedom was,
and is, its essence.
To conclude, the history of the Russian Revolution makes abundantly
clear that “classical” anarchism does have a positive theory of power.
Not only that, it offers an alternative ground for theorizing the social
conditions of freedom and a critical understanding of power and
liberation as perpetually co-mingling with and inscribed by a process of
self-interrogation and self-overcoming that is pluralistic,
individualist, materialist, and social. Finally, it has the advantage of
an historical record: this theory has been put into practice, sometimes
on a mass scale.
Arguably, then, contemporary radicals would do better marshaling
classical anarchism to interrogate poststructuralism, rather than the
other way around. As it stands, the continual rehashing of May’s
spurious characterizations in a bid to theorize “beyond” anarchism has
merely set up a false God adjective, poststructuralism, at the price of
silencing the ostensive subject.
Allan Antliff, Canada Research Chair in Art History at the University of
Victoria, is author of Anarchy and Art From the Paris Commune to the
Fall of the Berlin Wall (2007), Anarchist Modernism: Art, Politics and
the First American Avant-Garde (2001) and editor of Only a Beginning: An
Anarchist Anthology (2004).
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and Other Essays, intro by Richard Drinnon. New York: Dover Press, 1969.
Avrich, The Russian Anarchists, 177–78.
Writings, ed. Roger N. Baldwin. New York: Dover, 1970.
(Pravda, April 28, 1918), in Engels, Marx and Lenin, Anarchism and
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Marx and Lenin, Anarchism and Anarcho-Syndicalism.
University Park, PA: Pennsylvania State University Press, 1994.
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Purkis and James Bowen. Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2004.
J.L. Walker. London: A.C. Fifield, 1915.
[1] Summarizing this argument, May cites David Wieck, “The Negativity of
Anarchism,” (1975) in Reinventing Anarchy, ed. Howard Ehrlich, Carol
Ehrkich, David DeLeon, and Glenda Morris (London: Routledge & Kegan
Paul, 1977), 41: “Basic to Marxism is the view that economic power is
the key to a liberation of which the power of a party, the power of
government, and the power of a specific class are (or are to be)
instruments. Basic to anarchism is the opposing view that the abolition
of domination and tyranny depends on their negation, in thought and when
possible action, in every form and at every step, from now on,
progressively, by every individual and group, in movements of liberation
as well as elsewhere, no matter the state of consciousness of entire
social classes.”
[2] See, for example, Lewis Call, Postmodern Anarchism (Lanham,
Maryland: Lexington Books, 2002), 15–24 and Saul Newman, “Anarchism and
the Politics of Resentment,” I am not a Man, I am Dynamite!: Nietzsche
and the Anarchist Tradition ed. John Moore with Spencer Sunshine (New
York: Autonomedia, 2005), 107–126. For a more extended variation of the
same argument, see Saul Newman, From Bakunin to Lacan:
Anti-Authoritarianism and the Dislocation of Power (Lanham, Maryland:
Lexington Books, 2001).
[3] Hans Erich Lampl, Zweistimmigkeit-Einstimmigkeit: Friedrich
Nietzsche und Jean-Marie Guyau (Esquisse d’une morale sans obligation,
ni sanction). (Cuxhaven: Junghans-Verlag, 1990), passim. For further
documentation of Nietzsche’s ownership and interest in this book, see
./journal_of_the_history_of_ideas/v058/58.4brobjer_append01.html.
Accessed 10/01/2006. On Nietzsche and poststructuralism see Alan D.
Schrift, Nietzsche’s French Legacy: A Genealogy of Poststructuralism
(London: Routledge, 1995), passim.
[4] On Kropotkin and Proudhon see Antliff, 3–5.
[5] Purkis is referring to Jean-François Lyotard, Jean Baudrillard,
Jacques Derrida, Michel Foucault, Giles Deleuze, Felix Guattari, Julia
Kristeva and the later work of Roland Barthes.
[6] On the anti-humanist subject and poststructuralism see Callinicos,
62–91.
[7] The anarchist theory of the individual is critiqued at length in
chapter three of Karl Marx and Frederick Engels’s polemic, The German
Ideology, written between 1845–1846 and published posthumously. See Karl
Marx and Frederick Engels, “Saint Max,” Collected Works: Vo1. 5 (New
York: International Publishers, 1976), 117–452.
[8] On the founding of the Federation see Avrich, The Russian
Anarchists, 179. The Communists were relentless in their attacks on the
anarchists. Avrich writes that the cycle of arrests, executions, and
imprisonments of anarchists intensified in 1919, and that by 1920 the
“dragnet had swept the entire country,” effectively crushing the
anarchist movement. Paul Avrich, ed., The Anarchists in the Russian
Revolution (Ithaca: Cornell University Paperbacks, 1973), 138. Avrich,
The Russian Anarchists, 177.
[9] Chernyi’s book on “Associational Anarchism” includes two chapters
dealing with anarchist egoism and collectivism; Lev Chernyi, Novoe
Napravlenie v Anarkhizme: Asosiatsionnii Anarkhism (Moscow: 1907; 2^(nd)
ed., New York, 1923).
[10] The uprising lasted 18 days and was put down at a cost of
approximately 10,000 dead, wounded or missing on the Soviet side. No
reliable estimate of Kronstadt deaths exists, but it was substantial.
See Paul Avrich, Kronstadt 1921 (New York: Norton, 1974), 211.
[11] Stirner argued that the privileged “cultured” segments of society
distinguished themselves from the downtrodden “uncultured” on the basis
of supposed superior knowledge (94–95).
[12] I discuss the artistic dimensions of this issue in Art and Anarchy:
From the Paris Commune to the Fall of the Berlin Wall (Vancouver:
Arsenal Pulp Press, 2007).
[13] “What We Fight For” (March 8, 1921) in Avrich, Kronstadt 1921, 241.
[14] “Socialism in Quotation Marks” (March 16, 1921) in Avrich,
Kronstadt 1921, 245.