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Title: Anarchism and Individualism Author: Georges Palante Date: 1909 Language: en Topics: anarchism, individualist Source: http://www.marxists.org/archive/palante/1909/individualism.htm Notes: Source: La Sensibilité individualiste. Paris, Alcan, 1909; Translated: by Mitchell Abidor for marxists.org; CopyLeft: Creative Commons (Attribute & ShareAlike) marxists.org 2006.
The words anarchism and individualism are frequently used as synonyms.
Many thinkers vastly different from each other are carelessly qualified
sometimes as anarchists, sometimes as individualists. It is thus that we
speak indifferently of Stirnerite anarchism or individualism, of
Nietzschean anarchism or individualism, of Barrésian anarchism or
individualism, etc. In other cases, though, this identification of the
two terms is not looked upon as possible. We commonly say Proudhonian
anarchism, Marxist anarchism, anarchist syndicalism. But we could not
say Proudhonian, Marxist, or syndicalist individualism. We can speak of
a Christian or Tolstoyan anarchism, but not of a Christian or Tolstoyan
individualism.
At other times the two terms have been melted together in one name:
anarchist individualism. Under this rubric M. Hasch designates a social
philosophy that it differentiates from anarchism properly so-called, and
whose great representative, according to him, are Goethe, Byron,
Humboldt, Schleiermacher, Carlyle, Emerson, Kierkegaard, Renan, Ibsen,
Stirner and Nietzsche. This philosophy can be summed up as the cult of
great men and the apotheosis of genius. It would seem to us to be
arguable whether the expression individualist anarchism can be used to
designate such a doctrine. The qualification of anarchist, in the
etymological sense, can be applied with difficulty to thinkers of the
race of Goethe, Carlyle, and Nietzsche, whose philosophy seems on the
contrary to be dominated by ideas of hierarchical organization and the
harmonious placing of values in a series. What is more, the epithet of
individualist can’t be applied with equal justice to all the thinkers we
have just named. If it is appropriate for designating the egotist,
nihilist and anti-idealist revolt of Stirner, it can with difficulty be
applied to the Hegelian, optimist and idealist philosophy of a Carlyle,
who clearly subordinates the individual to the idea.
There thus reigns a certain confusion concerning the use of the two
terms anarchism and individualism, as well as the systems of ideas and
sentiments that these terms designate. We would here like to attempt to
clarify the notion of individualism and determine its psychological and
sociological content by distinguishing it from anarchism...
Individualism is the sentiment of a profound, irreducible antinomy
between the individual and society. The individualist is he who, by
virtue of his temperament, is predisposed to feel in a particularly
acute fashion the ineluctable disharmonies between his intimate being
and his social milieu. At the same time, he is a man for whom life has
reserved some decisive occasion to remark this disharmony. Whether
through brutality, or the continuity of his experiences, for him it has
become clear that for the individual society is a perpetual creator of
constraints, humiliations and miseries, a kind of continuous generation
of human pain. In the name of his own experience and his personal
sensation of life the individualist feels he has the right to relegate
to the rank of utopia any ideal of a future society where the hoped-for
harmony between the individual and society will be established. Far from
the development of society diminishing evil, it does nothing but
intensify it by rendering the life of the individual more complicated,
more laborious and more difficult in the middle of the thousand gears of
an increasingly tyrannical social mechanism. Science itself, by
intensifying within the individual the consciousness of the vital
conditions made for him by society, arrives only at darkening his
intellectual and moral horizons. Qui auget scientiam augel et dolorem.
We see that individualism is essentially a social pessimism. Under its
most moderate form it admits that if life in society is not an absolute
evil and completely destructive of individuality, for the individualist
is at the very least a restrictive and oppressive condition, a necessary
evil and a last resort.
The individualists who respond to this description form a small morose
group whose rebellious, resigned or hopeless words contrast with the
fanfares for the future of optimistic sociologists. It is Vigny saying:
“The social order is always bad. From time to time it is bearable.
Between bad and bearable the dispute isn’t worth a drop of blood.” It’s
Schopenhauer seeing social life as the supreme flowering of human pain
and evil. It’s Stirner with his intellectual and moral solipsism
perpetually on his guard against the duperies of social idealism and the
intellectual and moral crystallization with which every organized
society threatens the individual. It is, at certain moments, an Amiel
with his painful stoicism that perceives society as a limitation and a
restriction of his free spiritual nature. It’s a David Thoreau, the
extremist disciple of Emerson, that “student of nature,” deciding to
stray from the ordinary paths of human activity and to become a
“wanderer,” worshipping independence and dreams. A “wanderer whose every
minute will be filled with more work than the entire lives of many men
with occupations.” It’s a Challemel-Lacour with his pessimistic
conception of society and progress. It is perhaps, at certain moments, a
Tarde, with an individualism colored with misanthropy that he somewhere
expresses: “It is possible that the flux of imitation has its banks and
that, by the very effect of its excessive deployment, the need for
sociability diminishes or rather alters and transforms itself into a
kind of general misanthropy, very compatible, incidentally, with a
moderate commercial circulation and a certain activity of industrial
exchanges reduced to the strict necessary, but above all appropriate to
reinforcing in each of us the distinctive traits of our inner
individuality.”
Even among those who, like M. Maurice Barrès, by dilettantism and
artistic posture, are averse to the accents of sharp revolt or
discouraged pessimism, individualism remains a sentiment of “the
impossibility that exists of harmonizing the private and the general I.”
It’s a determination to set free the first I, to cultivate it in what it
has of the most special, the most advanced, the most rummaged through,
both in detail and in depth. “The individualist,” says M. Barrès, “is he
who, through pride in his true I, which he isn’t able to set free,
ceaselessly wounds, soils, and denies what he has in common with the
mass of men...The dignity of the men of our race is exclusively attached
to certain shivers that the world doesn’t know and cannot see and which
we must multiply in ourselves.”
In all of them individualism is an attitude of sensibility that goes
from hostility and distrust to indifference and disdain vis-Ă -vis the
organized society in which we are forced to live, vis-Ă -vis its
uniformising rules, its monotonous repetitions, and its enslaving
constraints. It’s a desire to escape from it and to withdraw into
oneself. Above all, it is the profound sentiment of the “uniqueness of
the I,” of that which despite it all the I maintains of unrepressible
and impenetrable to social influences. As M. Tarde says, it is the
sentiment of the “profound and fleeting singularity of persons, of their
manner of being, or thinking, of feeling, which is only once and of an
instant.”
Is there any need to demonstrate how much this attitude differs from
anarchism? There is no doubt that in one sense anarchism proceeds from
individualism. It is, in fact, the anti-social revolt of a minority that
feels itself oppressed or disadvantaged by the current order of things.
But anarchism represents only the first moment of individualism, the
moment of faith and hope, of actions courageous and confident of
success. At its second moment individualism converts, as we have seen,
into social pessimism.
The passage from confidence to despair, from optimism to pessimism is
here, in great part, an affair of psychological temperament. There are
delicate souls that are easily wounded on contact with social realities
and consequently quick to be disillusioned, a Vigny or a Heine, for
example. We can say that these souls belong to the psychological type
that has been called “sensitive.” They feel that social determinism,
insofar as it is repressive of the individual, is particularly
tormenting and oppressive. But there are other souls who resist multiple
failures, who disregard even experience’s toughest examples and remain
unshakeable in their faith. These souls belong to the “active” type.
Such are the souls of the anarchist apostles: Bakunin, Kropotkin,
Reclus. Perhaps their imperturbable confidence in their ideal depends on
a lesser intellectual and emotional acuity. Reasons for doubt and
discouragement don’t strike them harshly enough to tarnish the abstract
ideal they’ve forged and to lead them to the final and logical step of
individualism: social pessimism.
Whatever the case, there can be no doubt concerning the optimism of
anarchist philosophy. That optimism is spread, often simplistically and
with naivety, in those volumes with blood red covers that form the
reading matter of propagandists by the deed. The shadow of the
optimistic Rousseau floats over all this literature.
Anarchist optimism consists in believing that social disharmonies, that
the antinomies that the current state of affairs present between the
individual and society, are not essential, but rather accidental and
provisional; that they will one day be resolved and will give place to
an era of harmony.
Anarchism rests on two principles that seem to complement each other,
but actually contradict each other. One is the principle that is
properly individualist or libertarian, formulated by Wilhelm von
Humboldt and chosen by Stuart Mill as the epigraph of his “Essay on
Liberty”: “The great principle is the essential and absolute importance
of human development in its richest diversity.” The other is the
humanist or altruist principle which is translated on the economic plane
by communist anarchism. That the individualist and humanist principles
negate each other is proven by logic and fact. Either the individualist
principle means nothing, or it is a demand in favor of that which
differs and is unequal in individuals, in favor of those traits that
make them different, separates them and, if need be, opposes them. On
the contrary, humanism aims at the assimilation of humanity. Following
the expression of M. Gide, its ideal is to make a reality of the
expression “our like.” In fact, at the current time we see the
antagonism of the two principles assert itself among the most insightful
theoreticians of anarchism, and that logical and necessary antagonism
cannot fail to bring about the breakup of anarchism as a political and
social doctrine.
Whatever the case and whatever difficulties might be met by he who wants
to reconcile the individualist and humanist principles, these two rival
and enemy principles meet at least at this one point: they are both
clearly optimistic. Humboldt’s principle is optimistic insofar as it
implicitly affirms the original goodness of human nature and the
legitimacy of its free blossoming. It sets itself up in opposition to
the Christian condemnation of our natural instincts, and we can
understand the reservations of M. Dupont-White, the translator of the
“Essay on Liberty,” had from the spiritualist and Christian point of
view (condemnation of the flesh) as concerns this principle.
The humanist principle is no less optimistic. Humanism, in fact, is
nothing but rendering divine of man in what he has of the general, of
humanity, and consequently of human society. As we see, anarchism,
optimistic as concerns the individual, is even more so as concerns
society. Anarchism supposes that individual freedoms, left to
themselves, will naturally harmonize and spontaneously realize the
anarchist ideal of free society.
In regard to these two opposing points of view, the Christian and
anarchist, what is the attitude of individualism? Individualism, a
realist philosophy, all lived life and immediate sensation, equally
repudiates these two metaphysics: one, Christian metaphysics, which a
priori affirms original evil, the other the rationalist and Rosseauist
metaphysic, that no less a priori affirms the original and essential
goodness of our nature. Individualism places itself before the facts.
And these latter make visible in the human being a bundle of instincts
in struggle with each other and, in human society, a grouping of
individuals also necessarily in struggle with each other. By the very
fact of his conditions of existence the human being is subject to the
law of struggle: internal struggle among his own instincts, external
struggle with his like. If recognizing the permanent and universal
character of egoism and struggle in human existence means being
pessimistic, then we must say that individualism is pessimistic. But we
must immediately add that the pessimism of individualism, a pessimism of
fact, an experimental pessimism, if you will, pessimism a posteriori, is
totally different from the theological pessimism that a priori
pronounces, in the name of dogma, the condemnation of human nature. What
is more, individualism separates itself every bit as much from
anarchism. If, with anarchism, it admits Humboldt’s principle as the
expression of a normal tendency necessary to our nature for its full
blossoming, at the same time it recognizes that this tendency is
condemned to never being satisfied because of the internal and external
disharmonies of our nature. In other words, it considers the harmonious
development of the individual and society as a utopia. Pessimistic as
concerns the individual, individualism is even more so as concerns
society: man is by his very nature disharmonious because of the internal
struggle of his instincts. But this disharmony is exacerbated by the
state of society which, through a painful paradox, represses our
instincts at the same time as it exasperates them. In fact, from the
rapprochement of individual wills-to-life is formed a collective
will-to-life which becomes immediately oppressive for the individual
will-to-life and opposes its flourishing with all its force. The state
of society thus pushes to its ultimate degree the disharmonies of our
nature. It exaggerates them and puts them in the poorest possible light.
Following the idea of Schopenhauer, society thus truly represents the
human will-to-life at its highest degree: struggle, lack of fulfillment,
and suffering.
From this opposition between anarchism and individualism flow others.
Anarchism believes in progress. Individualism is an attitude of thought
that we can call non-historical. It denies becoming, progress. It sees
the human will-to-life in an eternal present. Like Schopenhauer, with
whom he has more than one similarity, Stirner is a non-historical
spirit. He too believes that it is chimerical to expect something new
and great from tomorrow. Every social form, by the very fact that it
crystallizes, crushes the individual. For Stirner, there are no utopian
tomorrows, no “paradise at the end of our days.” There is nothing but
the egoist today. Stirner’s attitude before society is the same as that
of Schopenhauer before nature and life. With Schopenhauer the negation
of life remains metaphysical and, we might say, spiritual (we should
remember that Schopenhauer condemns suicide which, would be the material
and tangible negation). in the same way Stirner’s rebellion against
society is an entirely spiritual internal rebellion, all intention and
inner will. It is not, as is the case with Bakunin, an appeal to
pan-destruction. Regarding society, it is a simple act of distrust and
passive hostility, a mix of indifference and disdainful resignation. It
is not a question of the individual fighting against society, for
society will always be the stronger. It must thus be obeyed, obeyed like
a dog. But Stirner, while obeying, as a form of consolation, maintains
an immense intellectual contempt. This is more or less the attitude of
Vigny vis-a-vis nature and society. “A tranquil despair, without
convulsions of anger and without reproaches for heaven, this is wisdom
itself.” And again: “Silence would be the best criticism of life.”
Anarchism is an exaggerated and mad idealism. Individualism is summed up
in a trait common to Schopenhauer and Stirner: a pitiless realism. It
arrives at what a German writer calls a complete “dis-idealization”
(Entidealisierung) of life and society.
“An ideal is nothing but a pawn,” Stirner said. From this point of view
Stirner is the most authentic representative of individualism. His icy
word seizes souls with a shiver entirely different from that, fiery and
radiant, of a Nietzsche. Nietzsche remains an impenitent, imperious,
violent idealist. He idealizes superior humanity. Stirner represents the
most complete dis-idealization of nature and life, the most radical
philosophy of disenchantment that has appeared since Ecclesiastes.
Pessimist without measure or reservations, individualism is absolutely
anti-social, unlike anarchism, with which this is only relatively the
case (in relation to current society). Anarchism admits an antinomy
between the individual and the state, an antinomy it resolves by the
suppression of the state, but it does not see any inherent, irreducible
antinomy between the individual and society. This is because in its eyes
society represents a spontaneous growth (Spencer), while the state is an
artificial and authoritarian organization. In the eyes of an
individualist society is as tyrannical, if not more so, than the state.
Society, in fact, is nothing else but the mass of social ties of all
kinds (opinions, mores, usages, conventions, mutual surveillance, more
or less discreet espionage of the conduct of others, moral approval and
disapproval, etc.) Society thus understood constitutes a closely- knit
fabric of petty and great tyrannies, exigent, inevitable, incessant,
harassing, and pitiless, which penetrates into the details of individual
life more profoundly and continuously than statist constraints can. What
is more, if we look closely at this, statist tyranny and the tyranny of
mores proceed from the same root: the collective interest of a caste or
class that wishes to establish or to maintain its domination and
prestige. Opinion and mores are in part the residue of ancient caste
disciplines that are in the process of disappearing, in part the seed of
new social disciplines brought with them by the new leading caste in the
process of formation. This is why between state constraint and that of
opinion and mores there is only a difference in degree. Deep down they
have the same goal: the maintenance of a certain moral conformism useful
to the group, and the same procedures: the vexation and elimination of
the independent and the recalcitrant. The only difference is that
diffuse sanctions (opinions and mores) are more hypocritical than the
others. Proudhon was right to say that the state is nothing but a mirror
of society. It is only tyrannical because society is tyrannical. The
government, following a remark of Tolstoy’s, is a gathering of men who
exploit others and that favors the wicked and the cheaters If this is
the practice of government, this is also that of society. There is a
conformity between the two terms: state and society. The one is the same
as the other. The gregarious spirit, or the spirit of society, is no
less oppressive for the individual than the statist or priestly spirit,
which only maintain themselves thanks to and through it.
How strange! Stirner himself, on the question of the relations between
society and the state, seems to share the error of Spencer and Bakunin.
He protests against the intervention of the state in the acts of the
individual, but not against that of society. “Before the individual the
state girds itself with an aureole of sanctity. For example, it makes
laws concerning duels. Two men who agree to risk their lives in order to
settle an affair (whatever it might be) cannot execute their agreement
because the state doesn’t want it. They would expose themselves to
judicial pursuit and punishment. What becomes of the freedom of
self-determination? Things are completely different in those places,
like North America, where society decides to make the duelists suffer
certain disagreeable consequences of their act and takes form them, for
example, the credit they had previously enjoyed. The refusing of credit
is everyone’s affair, and if it pleases a society to deprive someone of
it for one reason or another, he who is struck by it cannot complain of
an attack on his liberty: society has done nothing but exercise its own.
The society of which we spoke leaves the individual perfectly free to
expose himself to the harmful or disagreeable consequences that result
from his way of acting, and leaves full and entire his freedom of will.
The state does exactly the contrary: it denies all legitimacy to the
will of the individual and only recognizes as legitimate its own will,
the will of the state.” Strange reasoning. The law doesn’t attack me. In
what way am I freer if society boycotts me? Such reasoning would
legitimize all the attacks of a public opinion infected by moral bigotry
against the individual. The legend of individual liberty in Anglo-Saxon
countries is built on this reasoning. Stirner himself feels the vice of
his reasoning, and a little further along he arrives at his celebrated
distinction between society and association. In the one (society) the
individual is taken as a means; in the other (association), he takes
himself as an end and treats the association as a means of personal
power and enjoyment: “You bring to the association all your might, all
your riches and make your presence felt In society you and your activity
are utilized. In the first you live as an egoist; in the second you live
as a man, i.e., religiously; you work in the Lord’s vineyard. You owe
society everything you have; you are its debtor and you are tormented
with social obligations. You owe nothing to the association. She serves
you and you leave it without scruples as soon as you no longer have any
advantages to draw from it...” “If society is more than you then you
will have it pass ahead of you and you will make yourself its servant.
The association is your tool, your weapon; it sharpens and multiplies
your natural strength. The association only exists for you and by you.
Society, on the contrary, claims you as its good and can exist without
you. In short, society is sacred and the association is your property;
society uses you and you use the association.
A vain distinction if ever there was one! Where should we fix the
boundary between society and association? As Stirner himself admitted,
doesn’t an association tend to crystallize into a society?
However we approach it, anarchism cannot reconcile the two antinomic
terms, society and individual liberty. The free society that it dreams
of is a contradiction in terms. It’s a piece of steel made of wood, a
stick without an end. Speaking of anarchists Nietzsche wrote: “We can
already read on all the walls and all the tables their word for the
future: Free society. Free society? To be sure. But I think you know, my
dear sirs, what we will build it with: Wood made of iron...”
Individualism is clearer and more honest than anarchism. It places the
state, society, and association on the same plane. It rejects them both
and as far as this is possible tosses them overboard. “All associations
have the defects of convents,” Vigny said.
Antisocial, individualism is openly immoralist. This is not true in an
absolute fashion. In a Vigny pessimistic individualism is reconciled
with a morally haughty stoicism, severe and pure. Even so, even in Vigny
an immoralist element remains: a tendency to dis-idealize society, to
separate and oppose the two terms society and morality, and to regard
society as a fatal generator of cowardice, unintelligence, and
hypocrisy. “Cinq mars, Stello, and Servitude et Grandeur militaires are
the songs of a kind of epic poem on disillusionment. But it is only
social and false things that I will destroy and illusions I will trample
on. I will raise on these ruins, on this dust, the sacred beauty of
enthusiasm, of love, and of honor.” It goes without saying that in a
Stirner or a Stendhal individualism is immoralist without scruples or
reservations. Anarchism is imbued with a crude moralism. Anarchist
morality, even without obligations or sanctions, is no less a morality.
At heart it is Christian morality, except for the pessimist element
contained in the latter. The anarchist supposes that those virtues
necessary to harmony will flourish on their own. Enemy of coercion, the
doctrine accords the faculty to take from the general stores even to the
lazy. But the anarchist is persuaded that in the future city the lazy
will be rare, or will not exist at all.
Optimistic and idealistic, imbued with humanism and moralism, anarchism
is a social dogmatism. It is a “cause” in the sense that Stirner gave
this word. A “cause” is one thing, “the simple attitude of an individual
soul” is another. A cause implies a common adherence to an idea, a
shared belief and a devotion to that belief. Such is not individualism.
Individualism is anti-dogmatic and little inclined to proselytism. It
would gladly take as its motto Stirner’s phrase: “I have set my affair
on nothing.” The true individualist doesn’t seek to communicate to
others his own sensation of life and society. What would be the good of
this? Omne individuum inefabile. Convinced of the diversity of
temperaments and the uselessness of a single rule, he would gladly say
with David Thoreau: “I would not have any one adopt my mode of living on
any account; for, beside that before he has fairly learned it I may have
found out another for myself, I desire that there may be as many
different persons in the world as possible; but I would have each one be
very careful to find out and pursue his own way, and not his father’s or
his mother’s or his neighbor’s instead.” The individualist knows that
there are temperaments that are refractory to individualism and that it
would be ridiculous to want to convince them. In the eyes of a thinker
in love with solitude and independence, a contemplative, a pure adept of
the inner life, like Vigny, social life and its agitations seem to be
something artificial, rigged, excluding any true and strongly felt
sentiments. And conversely, those who by their temperament feel an
imperious need for life and social action, those who throw themselves
into the melee, those who have political and social enthusiasm, those
who believe in the virtues of leagues and groups, those who have forever
on their lips the words “The Idea,” “The Cause,” those who believe that
tomorrow will bring something new and great, these people necessarily
misunderstand and disdain the contemplative, who lowers before the crowd
the harrow of which Vigny spoke. Inner life and social action are two
things that are mutually exclusive. The two kinds of souls are not made
to understand each other. As antitheses, we should read alongside each
other Schopenhauer’s “Aphorisms on the Wisdom of Life,” that bible of a
reserved, mistrustful, and sad individualism, or the Journal Intime of
Amiel. Or the Journal d’un Poète by Vigny. On the other side, we should
read a Benoit Malon, an Elisée Reclus or a Kropotkin, and we will see
the abyss that separates the two kinds of souls...