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Title: Bourgeois influences on anarchism
Author: Luigi Fabbri
Date: 1914
Language: en
Topics: anarcho-communism, Bourgeois ideology, the media, violence, language
Source: Retrived on 1/2/2020 from https://libcom.org/library/bourgeois-influences-anarchism
Notes: Text by Italian anarchist communist Luigi Fabbri written around the time of the First World War, addressing problems arising from the stereotyping of anarchism in popular culture and the negative effect this had on actual anarchist movement. The original in Italian is available in: https://www.liberliber.it/online/autori/autori-f/luigi-fabbri/influenze-borghesi-sullanarchismo/

Luigi Fabbri

Bourgeois influences on anarchism

Violent Literature and Anarchism

In order to avoid misunderstandings, we first need to clarify our terms.

There is no theory of “violent anarchism.” Anarchism is a combination of

social doctrines which have as a common basis the elimination of

coercive, human-over-human authority; and the majority of its partisans

repudiate all forms of violence and consider it legitimate only as a

form of self-defense. But, as there is no precise line separating

defense and offense, and as the concept of defense can be understood in

very diverse ways, there appear from time to time violent acts,

committed by anarchists as a form of individual rebellion, directed

against the lives of heads of state and the representatives of the

ruling class.

We’ll classify these manifestations of individual violence as “violent

anarchism,” and this solely for the sake of convenience, not because the

name reflects the reality. In fact, all political movements, with no

exceptions, have had periods in which violent acts of rebellion were

committed in their names-generally when these movements found themselves

at a point of extreme opposition to the dominant political or social

institutions. At present, the movement which finds itself, or appears to

find itself, in the forefront and in absolute opposition to the dominant

institutions is anarchism; it’s logical then that manifestations of

violence against these dominant institutions assume the name and certain

‘special characteristics of anarchism.

Having said this, I want to make brief note of something which appears

to have gone unnoticed: the influence of literature upon manifestations

of violent rebellion, and the influence it receives from such acts.

Naturally, I’ll leave to one side classic literature, though you’ll

certainly find justification for political crimes in Cicero, the bible,

Shakespeare, Alfieri, and in all the historical works passed from hand

to hand in youth. In the stories of Judith in the bible, and Brutus in

ancient history, even with Orsini and Agesilao Milano in modem history,

one finds a whole series of political crimes for which historians and

poets have made at times unjustified apologies.

But I don’t want to speak of these crimes, because to do so would carry

me too far afield, because it would not be difficult to see in them the

play of diverse circumstances which give them diverse characteristics. I

only wish to refer to that literature which has a direct and open

relation to the type of political act presently characterized as

“anarchist.”

Since 1880, acts of “violent anarchism” have continually occurred, with

the largest number coming in the period 1891–1894, especially in France,

Spain, and Italy, I don’t know if anyone has noticed, but in precisely

this period there flourished, especially in France, sensationalist

literature which didn’t shrink from glorifying to seventh heaven every

violent “anarchist” act, including even the least understandable ,and

justifiable; and its language was truly an instigation to propaganda by

the deed.

The writers who dedicated themselves to this type of violent literary

sport were almost all completely outside of the anarchist movement;

writers were extremely rare in whom literary and artistic advocacy

coincided with a true and natural theoretical persuasion, to a conscious

acceptance of anarchist doctrines. Almost all of them worked in their

private and public lives in complete contradiction to the terrible

things and ideas they advocated in articles, in novels, in stories, or

in poems. It happens with great frequency that one finds very violent

“anarchist” declarations in the works of writers who are widely known to

belong to parties diametrically opposed to anarchism. Even among those

who for a moment appeared to have seriously embraced anarchist ideas,

only one or two later maintained that intellectual direction. (The only

ones l can recall are Mirbeau and Eekhoud.) The others, after only two

or three years, came to support ideas totally contrary to those which

they had earlier promoted with such virulence.

Ravachol, who even among anarchists is the type of violent rebel who

receives the least sympathy, found numerous apologists among the

literati, from Mirbeau to Paul Adam, in later years a militaristic

mystic, who spoke of the terrible dynamiter in the most paradoxical way

possible: “At last,” to paraphrase Paul Adam, “in these times of

skepticism and baseness a saint has been born to us.” But he wasn’t a

saint like the “saint of Fogazzaro” for whom today Paul Adam might be

inclined to write an apology. The most curious thing is that the

literary types had a propensity to most approve those acts of rebellion

which anarchist militants least approved of because of their extremely

obvious antisocial character.

Who doesn’t remember the inhuman expression, esthetically pleasing

though it may have been, of Laurent Tailhade (who later became a

militaristic nationalist) at a banquet given by “La Plume”, the notable

Parisian intellectual periodical, during the epidemic of dynamite

explosions in 1893? At that banquet for poets and writers, Tailhade, in

reference to bombing attacks, spouted the well known phrase; “What

matter the victims if the gesture is beautiful?” Needless to say,

anarchist militants disapproved of this esthetic theory of violence in

the name of their philosophy and movement; but the phrase was spoken and

had its effect.

The nationalist Maurice Barrès, who had written a markedly individualist

novel, L’Ennemi des lois [“The Enemy of the Law”], which anarchists

circulated as propaganda, wrote an article shortly after the

decapitation of Émile Henry (whose act was severely judged by Élisée

Reclus) filled with admiration and enthusiasm. I don’t dare to reproduce

even a small fragment of it because in Italy certain things can’t be

said, even under the auspices of literary documentation; but whoever

wants to satisfy his curiosity can read the “Journal” of Paris, May 28,

1894 and come away fully enlightened on the matter.

In regard to Vaillant, who was an anarchist who threw a bomb in the

French parliament, we can’t forget what was written the day after his

execution by François Coppée, the celebrated nationalist poet, an ally

and candidate of the clerics: “After having read the details of the

decapitation of Vaillant, I have remained pensive ... Despite myself,

another spectacle has surged brusquely before my spirit. I’ve seen a

group of men and women pressing one against another in the middle of a

circus, under the gaze of the multitude, while from all sides of the

immense amphitheater roared the fearful cry: ‘To the lions!’; and near

the group the lion keepers open the cage of the beasts. Oh! Pardon me

sublime christians of the era of persecution, you who died to affirm our

sweet faith of sacrifice and goodness, pardon me that I bring your

memory before the melancholy men of our times! ... but in the eyes of

the anarchist walking to the guillotine shined, oh pain!, the same flame

of intrepid madness which illuminated your eyes!”

Something similar would be said later in regard to assassins by the

celebrated psychologist and literatus Henri Leyret in the book En plein

faubourg [“On the Outskirts”]. Not much later Leyret gathered in a

volume and presented to the public the sentences of the “good judge”

Magnaud. I could go much further in reproducing enthusiastic defenses of

and apologies for anarchist violence by writers such as Edward Conte,

Séverine, [Lucien] Descaves, [Victor] Barrucand, etc.

At the end of 1897 the drama Les Mauvais bergers [“The Bad Shepherds”],

by Octave Mirbeau, in which the most violent and revolutionary rhetoric

flowed in rivers, was produced in Paris. It was received with great

enthusiasm by the intellectuals of that city. As on the eve of the

taking of the Bastille, when the sycophant poets and the queen herself,

the literati and all the intelligent spirits of the aristocracy and

nobility enthused over the brilliant paradoxes of the Encyclopedists,

and the fashionable ladies voluntarily lent themselves to reciting the

biting satire of Beaumarchais and delighted in the anarchistic fantasies

of Rabelais, so the bourgeois intellectuals of our day delight in

immersing themselves in poetry and in exaggerating the explosions of

anger which at times spring from the profound mysteries of human

suffering.

Émile Zola himself, after having entered the fray with a warning shot,

his Germinal, a gloomy novel of destruction, glorified anarchists in

Paris, and even poeticized the figure of Salvat, the dynamiter, in whose

character it’s easy to recognize — painted as even more violent than he

actually was — Vaillant. Read Melée Sociale, by Clemenceau, Pages

Rouges, by Séverine, Sous le sabre, by Jean Ajalbert, Soleil des Morts,

by Mauclair, Chanson des Gueux and Les Blasphèmes, by Jean Richepin, and

Idylles Diaboliques, by Adolphe Retté; leaf through aristocratic

literary magazines like “Mercure de France”, “La Plume”, “La Revue

blanche”, “Entretiens politiques et littéraires” and you’ll find, in

prose or poetry, in art criticism as in theater and book reviews,

literary expressions of such violence that you’d never find them in

actual anarchist magazines, just as you’d never hear them on the lips of

actual anarchists.

It’s understandable that the literati came to voice expressions in such

contradiction to their actual beliefs. The artist searches for beauty

over usefulness in an attitude; because of this approach that which the

social anarchist can understand but not approve arouses enthusiam in the

poet or writer. The act of rebellion for which complete account of its

effects is not taken is morally condemnable like any other act of

cruelty, even though committed with the best of intentions; the act of a

surgeon who cuts off a leg when only the amputation of a toe is

necessary would be similarly reprehensible. But these types of social

and humane considerations, these distinctions, are scorned by

individuals who love rebellion not for its objectives, but for its own

sake and for its esthetic beauty.

These individuals are above all artists and writers educated in the

school of Nietzsche (who was never an anarchist) who look upon all

actions, however tragic or sublime they might be, solely from an

esthetic point of view and disregard concepts such as good and bad,

useful and harmful.

Of anarchist thought they’ve glimpsed nothing beyond individual

emancipation; they’ve neglected the social problem, that is, the

humanitarian side of anarchism. In that way they’ve come to conceive of

an implacable “anarchy” in which one can worship an Émile Henry, but

along with him a Passatore, a Nero, or an Ezzelino da Romano. It should

be understood that acts by such individuals have importance solely

because prose and poetry, drama or the novel, the pen or the brush, find

in them a source of beauty and form. It’s well known how much the love

of a beautiful phrase, an original expression or a vibrant verse can

falsify and deform the innate and true thoughts of a writer. Leopardi,

who poetically cried: “To arms, take them up here,” was in practice

little disposed and had little aptitude to actually take them up. like

Paul Adam he would have called anyone crazy who would have asked him in

seriousness if he approved of the cold-blooded murder of a hermit by

Ravachol (whom, however, he qualified as a “saint”).

In the appreciation of a deed the esthetic element is completely

different than the social and political element. Well then, to a

doctrine (anarchism) which is based in scientific reasoning and which is

eminently socio-political, they erroneously attribute that paradoxical

esthetic which is solely and purely applicable to poetry and art. In all

theories of renovation and revolution art and poetry are certainly

factors of very secondary importance, and never, absolutely never,

should they impose themselves on or have the right to guide individual

or collective action solely for the sake of esthetic effects.

Independently of the inherent worth of an idea, art seizes it and

embellishes it at whim, even at the risk of totally altering it in

search of new forms of expression. It’s the fate of all new and

audacious ideas — which, by their nature, lend themselves to artistic

fantasy. The history of literature is proof that art is by nature

rebellious and innovative. All the poets, all the novelists, all the

dramatists, were originally rebels, even though they later exchanged

their bohemian garb for the frock of the academic or the courtesan.

But, returning to the subject, I’ll repeat that there is minimal or no

relation, outside of certain expressions and artistic forms, between the

social anarchist movement with its sociologic and political bases and

the flourishing of “anarchist” literature; and you’ll find the proof in

that anarchist militants are frequently scientists and philosophers, and

only in rare cases writers and poets. [This is certainly not the case

today.] As we have seen, apologists for anarchist violence have often

been political reactionaries. And notwithstanding the fact that for a

moment they call themselves anarchists, sooner or later they’ll return

to another camp and become nationalists like Paul Adam, militarists like

Tailhade, or socialists like Mauclair.

If it’s true that art is the expression of life in a pleasing form,

present day literature, so saturated with the anarchist spirit, is a

consequence of the social situation in which we find ourselves and of

the rebellious period in which we live.

But in their turn certain types of violent “anarchist” literature

exercise an influence upon the movement which we cannot neglect to

examine. The paradoxical esthetics of this literature have had enormous

repercussions in the anarchist world in that they have contributed much

to the occultation of the socialist and humanitarian aspects of

anarchism and have also influenced not a little the development of the

terrorist tendency.

But let this be understood: I’m dealing with something specific, and I

do not pretend that we should put the brakes on art and literature even

with the goal of defending society or of improving the course of the

revolutionary movement.

Let me recall an incident. When Émile Henry threw a bomb into a cafe in

1894, almost all of the anarchists I then knew realized that it was an

illogical and uselessly cruel act, and they didn’t hide their disgust

and disapproval of it. But during the course of his trial Henry gave his

celebrated self-defense, which is a true literary jewel -admitted even

by Lombroso himself [Cesare Lombroso, a reactionary criminologist] — and

after his decapitation so many non-anarchist writers praised the

executed man, his logic and his ingenuity, that the opinion of the

anarchists changed (generally, at any rate), and Henry’s act found

apologists and imitators. As can be seen, the literary esthetic in the

end ignored the social aspect, or, more accurately, the antisocial

aspect, of the act, and the actual anarchist doctrine had nothing to be

thankful for in the slight service lent it by literature.

This type of literature is the best terrorist propaganda, a propaganda

for which one would search in vain, in any of the publications, books,

pamphlets and periodicals which are the true expression of the anarchist

movement. Who doesn’t remember, to cite just one more case, the

magnificent article by Rastignac about Angiolillo (published in the

conservative “Tribuna” in Rome)? Despite the fact that the author in

this case stated many truths, to these he added many misconceptions, and

Errico Malatesta, who is commonly thought to be one of the most violent

anarchists, but in reality is one of the most calm and reasonable,

entered the fray to combat these mistaken ideas. Due to the influence of

this type of violent literature, and for no other reason, there was no

lack of a person to put in practice one of the most violent invectives

written by the poet Rapisardi after it was printed in several issues of

the terrorist periodical “Pensiero e Dinamite” [Thought and Dynamite];

and this person was a cultured and comfortable Sicilian youth who

suffered 12 years in prison because of it. What a waste.

Certainly Rastignac, like Rapisardi, could protest, and have reason to,

against accusations of complicity, even though indirect. But this

doesn’t contradict my claim that literary and artistic suggestion can be

— and I’m not the first to say this — the determinant not only of

certain already accomplished acts, but also of the mental direction of

“anarchist” terrorists who have never appreciated the inductions of

Reclus or Kropotkin, or the skeletal but humanitarian logic of

Malatesta.

Bourgeois Influences on Anarchism

We said in the preceding chapter that bourgeois literature, that

literature which finds in anarchism reason for a new and violent

esthetic attitude, undoubtedly contributes to producing an individualist

and antisocial mentality in anarchists.

The literati and artists, without bothering to consider whether it can

be applied to everyday life, have found an element of beauty in the acts

of individuals who, with the power of their intelligence and with

sovereign disregard for their own lives and the lives of others, put

themselves, with a violent act of rebellion, outside the common run of

humanity. For these artists and writers, the beauty of the gesture takes

the place of social utility, with which they don’t concern themselves.

So, they’ve idealized the figure of the anarchist dynamiter because even

in its most tragic manifestations it presents undeniable characteristics

of originality and attractiveness. This literary and artistic

idealization has exercised its influence among many anarchists, who, for

lack of knowledge, or unfamiliarity with reason and logic, or by

temperament, have taken it as propagation of ideas even though it’s

nothing more than an artistic manifestation.

In certain anarchist circles, the most impulsive and the least

knowledgeable, it has not been understood that these writers, who seem

to compete in emitting the most extravagant paradoxes, have no doctrinal

or theoretical anarchist convictions. They make apologies for Ravachol

and Émile Henry in the same manner that in other times they would have

made apologies for highway robbers. There can be no doubt that the

bandit who assaults and kills a traveler provides a more useful literary

subject than the petty thief or the pickpocket in the streets; the first

can provide the subject for a drama or novel, while the second solely

lends itself to comedy or farce. No sane individual, however, can deny

that the ambushing bandit is a thousand times worse than the petty

thief.

These literary poseurs, perhaps without intending it, offend fallen

anarchists even in the eulogies they make to them, because their

eulogies draw their force and motive precisely from that which,

according to anarchist principles, is painful and deplorable even though

perhaps a historical necessity. The bourgeois mentality sees in them

[anarchist terrorists] an attitude which later diffuses in the anarchist

milieu and tends to form a [bourgeois] mentality there like itself.

Similarly, among the bourgeoisie you’ll find more forgiveness for the

murderer who takes a life from the human community than for the thief

who, in the last analysis, takes nothing from the vital patrimony of

society, but simply changes the place and ownership of things. Equally,

changing the terms and setting aside injurious comparisons, there are

some anarchists who value those who kill in a moment of violent

rebellion much more than they value the obscure militant who through a

life of constant work produces much more radical changes in

consciousness and in events.

I’ll repeat what I’ve said at other times: anarchists aren’t Tolstoyans

— they recognize that violence (which is always an ugly thing, be it

individual or collective) is frequently necessary, and that no one

should condemn those who have sacrificed their lives to this necessity.

But we’re not dealing with this, but with the tendency, derived from

bourgeois influences, of ignoring goals and making actions the

primordial preoccupation.

According to my understanding, those anarchists who place an overriding

importance on acts of rebellion are perhaps revolutionaries and

anarchists, but they’re much more revolutionary than they are anarchist.

I’ve known many anarchists who bother themselves little or not at all

with anarchist theory and don’t even try to learn about it, but are

flaming revolutionaries whose critiques and propaganda have no end other

than the revolutionary, that of rebellion for rebellion’s sake. And ‘

the more fiery and the more intransigent they are, the sooner they

abandon our camp and cross to that of the law-based and authoritarian

parties-their faith in a rapidly approaching revolution evaporates

through contact with reality and their energy is dissipated in far too

violent conflicts in their social surroundings.

The influence of bourgeois ideology upon these individuals is

undeniable. The maximal importance conceded to an act of violence or

rebellion is the daughter of the maximal importance conceded by

bourgeois political doctrine to a few “great men” in comparison with

that conceded to society as a whole. And this pernicious influence

annihilates in many anarchists the sense of relativity through which we

accord everything its actual importance, so that no revolutionary method

will be discarded a priori, but each will be considered in relation to

the desired end without confusing its special character, functions and

effects.

We have then determined two forms of bourgeois influence on anarchism:

one which shows itself in the great importance attached to revolutionary

acts rather than to the goals such acts ought to have; the other is that

of decadent bourgeois literature of recent times which idealizes the

most antisocial forms of individual rebellion. There is very little

separation between these two forms, and because of this I have not been

able to consider them separately.

The bourgeoisie have exercised an extraordinary influence upon anarchism

when it has taken upon itself the mission of producing anarchist

propaganda. While it appears a paradox, it’s true that much anarchist

propaganda has been produced by the bourgeoisie. Unfortunately, though,

what they’ve produced has been totally useless to the spread of truly

libertarian ideas; but that doesn’t alter the fact that they have

zealously desired to attribute to the entire anarchist movement the

effects of this spurious propaganda.

In times of the worst persecution of anarchists, it happens that all of

the marginalized people of present day society, and among them many

criminals, come to seriously believe that anarchy is as described in

bourgeois papers, that is, something very well adapted to their

antisocial habits. Though for different reasons, it’s a fact that these

individuals find themselves, like anarchists, in a state of continuous

rebellion against constituted authority; that gives rise to this

mistaken perception and encourages it. In jail and in forced exile we’ve

come in contact many times with common criminals who call themselves

anarchists, without, naturally, having ever read a single anarchist

periodical or pamphlet, and having never heard anarchy spoken of outside

of the bourgeois press.

And so they believe that anarchy is precisely that which is described in

the most condemnatory reactionary periodicals, and as such they approve

or disapprove of it. Think about it-to those who approve, the type of

anarchy that would have to be! I recall knowing a man in jail convicted

of · common crimes, an intelligent forger and a poet to boot, who

seriously believed himself to be an anarchist and said so to his judges.

One of these asked him how he managed to justify his crimes in light of

the ideas he claimed to profess. He responded: “That which you call

crime is a principle of anarchy. When all men deliver themselves to

unbridled delinquency (these are his exact words), then will come or

will be anarchy.” As can be seen, he embraced anarchy, but in the sense

given in bourgeois dictionaries, in the sense of disorder, confusion,

chaos.

This bourgeois propaganda also has its effects even among those who want

nothing to do with anarchists. In the holding tanks in Naples I

encountered some camorristas [members of the Neapolitan mafia] who

believed that the anarchists truly constituted a society of evil-doers,

and, as such, were worthy of being at the side of the “honorable society

of the camorra.” In Tremiti, that city of exile, I was told of a modest

banquet of anarchists and socialists to which two or three camorristas

were invited — the only nonpolitical exiles on the island — out of

simple human decency having nothing to do with politics; and when they

arrived at the toast, and to great surprise, one of the camorristas

raised his cup to the union of “the three parties: camorra, anarchists,

and socialists” — against the government!

The toast was received with uproarious laughter, as it’s commonly known

that the camorra easily allies itself with the government and against

the socialists and anarchists. But this shows us how the mentality of

common criminals has come to accept as true anarchy that which is

circulated by papers on the take from the police. This treacherous

propaganda explains why in the period 1889 to 1894 we have seen so many

instances in which thieves and common forgers have declared themselves

anarchists, giving their acts a pseudo-political gloss. They read that

anarchy was the ideal of thieves of murderers and they said to

themselves: “I’m a thief, therefore, I’m an anarchist.”

This also explains the fact, which so impressed Lombroso, that many

common criminals declare themselves anarchists upon being incarcerated —

but not before, note it well. When they feel the heel of authority on

their backs, they think of the anarchists, who in their minds are the

most terrible criminals due to their hatred of authority, and when they

enter their cells they grab the first nail which falls into their hands

and write on the wall, “the paper of delinquents”, “Viva l’anarchia!”

But this phenomenon doesn’t last long. They soon realize that by calling

themselves anarchists they run a greater risk than they run robbing and

murdering, that the anarchist gloss influences the tribunals to increase

their punishment without diminishing the antipathy their acts arouse.

Additionally, they’ve found in the majority of anarchists a glacial

indifference and an extraordinary distrust toward their improvised

conversations about “the idea” — when someone or other doesn’t thump

them; and then they quit calling themselves anarchists.

Traces of this bourgeois propaganda, however, persist among actual

anarchists. Some have taken the sophisms of some genial delinquent

seriously and have ended up theorizing about the legitimacy of theft or

of counterfeiting money. Others have gone in search of extenuating

circumstances, talking of “robbery for the purpose of propaganda,” thus

producing the phenomena of Pini and Ravachol. These two were sincere

men, but for this were no less victims of the sophistry which is the

offspring of the perverse propaganda of the periodicals and of bourgeois

calumny. The exception has never been the rule, because those anarchists

who in good faith accepted the idea of robbery, were never in practice

capable of stealing so much as a needle; while those who truly engaged

in robbery guarded themselves well from doing it “for propaganda” and

soon quit calling themselves anarchists — and continued being ordinary

thieves.

This tendency has been disappearing among anarchists. But above all it

shows what was possible due to an influence completely bourgeois in

origin — an influence brought about by a campaign of lies and

persecution against anarchists. “The anarchists,” they say, “want to

snatch property from those who possess it, and for that reason,

anarchists are thieves.”

It’s not surprising, then, that some who call or believe themselves

anarchists — above all those who have only heard anarchism spoken of by

those who defame it — I repeat, it’s not surprising that some,

especially uneducated or impulsive individuals, or those deficient in

reasoning capacity, have believed and admitted all the absurdities

propagated about anarchism. But who can deny that if they’re deceiving

themselves, that the responsibility lies with the bad faith of the

bourgeoisie, given that there is nothing in anarchist doctrines or

programs that can justify such aberrations and deviations? In the end

we’d say that it appears an exaggeration, even to those who have never

lived in the anarchist ambient, that many would become anarchists due to

the misleading propaganda from bourgeois writers and journalists.

The minds of men, especially of the young, thirsting for the mysterious

and extraordinary, allow themselves to be easily dragged by the passion

for the new toward that which, when coolly examined in the calm which

follows initial enthusiasm, is absolutely and definitively repudiated.

This fever for new things, this audacious spirit, this zeal for the

extraordinary has brought to the anarchist ranks the most exaggeratedly

impressionable types, and at the same time, the most empty headed and

frivolous types, persons who are not repelled by the absurd, but who, on

the contrary, engage in it. They are attracted to projects and ideas

precisely because they are absurd, and so anarchism comes to be known

precisely for the illogical character and ridiculousness which ignorance

and bourgeois calumny have attributed to anarchist doctrines.

These persons are the elements who contribute most to discrediting the

anarchist ideal, because from this ideal they extrapolate an infinity of

false and ridiculous ramifications, gross errors, deviations and

degenerations, believing that, on the contrary, they’re defending “pure”

anarchism. These individuals hardly enter the world of anarchism when

they realize that anarchism as conceived by anarchist philosophers,

economists, and sociologists is very different that that which they

believe in and learned to love through reading the deceptive writings of

bourgeois writers. They discover that the movement follows a course far

different than they had imagined; in short, they observe that they have

before them an idea, a program which is completely organic, coherent,

positive and possible — because it was conceived with the appreciation

of the relativity of things, without which life becomes impossible. The

serious, positive, and logical character of anarchism irritates them,

and they find quick comfort by joining that amorphous mass which doesn’t

know what it wants or what it thinks, but is relentless in demolishing

and discrediting everything serious and good that others do, and in

employing the abusive and authoritarian language proper to its

temperament and the bourgeois origin of its mental state.

And even when their ideas and critiques are originally justified, they

exaggerate and deform them in such a manner that a declared enemy could

not do worse. They’re like those who see that the bakers are badly

baking bread and then maintain that it’s necessary to destroy the ovens,

or those who become convinced that a piece of arid ground needs water

and then undertake to flood it with a river.

None of these individuals would have come to our camp but for the

attraction exercised upon them by phony, bourgeois “anarchist”

propaganda. The entire bourgeois campaign of invective, calumny and pure

invention acts as a mirror for all of these marginalized types —

marginalized intellectually, materially, psychologically, and

physiologically — who always align themselves with the absurd, the

unusual, the terrible, and the illogical.

To be convinced of this, it suffices to have the patience to leaf

through collections of two or three of the most respectable, officially

acceptable periodicals of 15 or 20 years ago. It suffices, likewise, to

leaf through all of the occasional literature from that period which

refers to anarchists and anarchism and is not of anarchist origin, but

instead emanates from bourgeois, police, and even supposedly scientific

circles. Magazines and newspapers, conservative and democratic, have

invented and spoken a thousand vicious lies about us.

Who doesn’t remember I misteri dell’Anarchia [“Mysteries of Anarchy”],

written by an unscrupulous hack? There is no unbelievable story not

attributed to anarchists, be it in novels, books magazines, or

prestigious newspapers. The desire to satisfy the public appetite for

new and strange things brings novelists, journalists, and

pseudo-scientists to invent a whirlwind of a thousand demons, and to

frequently attribute to anarchists, with full knowledge of the damage

this causes, greater strength than really exists — incredibly inflated

numbers, and means and methods anarchists have never had in their hands.

If this does, from a certain point of view, attract the most unconscious

type of sympathizer, it also gives a gloss of veracity to all of the

ridiculous ideas and all of the cruel intentions attributed to

anarchists. In the end, Mysteries of Anarchy appeared a true history to

the minds of many.

Because of the fantastic way in which bourgeois writers and journalists

present the anarchist movement, it frequently occurs that after

something happens which was interesting and worthwhile, or at least

could elicit some admiration, there frequently follow many morbid

fantasies; and a lot of crazies, a lot of losers in the social struggle,

become attracted to anarchism in a manner similar to that in which at

certain places and in certain primitive mentalities the figure of a

Tiburzi or a Mussolino, renowned bandits, become attractive because of

their at times imaginary acts. The victims most tormented by social

injustice can easily be brought to approve, through reaction and

revenge, of the bellicose and bloody character bourgeois writers assign

to the anarchist.

How many times those “converted” by the bourgeois press have come to me

and asked what they have to do to be admitted to the “sect,” and if

they’ll encounter any difficulty presenting themselves to the “society

of anarchists”! And when I ask them what they believe anarchists are,

they respond: “Those who desire to kill the rich and those who rule in

order to distribute their wealth and rule so that everyone will have a

little.” Ah! Certainly they haven’t read the pamphlets of Malatesta, nor

the books of Kropotkin, nor the writings of Malato; they’ve simply read

the stupidities in the “Tribuna” or in “Osservatore Romano” [official

Vatican newspaper].

This impressionable psychological state of the dispossessed was very

well described by Henry Leyret in a study of the outskirts of Paris.

During a period of anarchist terror, according to Leyret, the people of

the district felt dragged by the enormously disastrous conditions in

which they lived and by the spectacle of the banking scandals, to

sympathize with the most violent anarchists. “That which is anarchism,

that which is worthwhile, the public knows nothing, or even less, about.

Anarchists are considered from a single, special angle, with all of us

being compared with Vaillant, who, it’s undeniable, arouses a certain

sympathy through being guillotined; that brings the public to accept

conspiracy theories ... The people delight in a mystery and are more

enamored of a person when he appears cloaked in an occult power, in this

case attributing to the anarchists a formidable secret organization ...

“ (Henri Leyret, En plein faubourg, p. 257).

And this mysterious thing which seduced the most miserable people was

described as “anarchism” in the popular press, which was filled, in that

time as always, with fantastic stories of frightful anarchist meetings,

of horrible plots, of codes, of dates, of false and distorted names, and

all of this designed to call the attention of the public to anarchism.

Perhaps, who knows, from a certain point of view, this might have been

for the best because it provoked interest in and discussion about

anarchism. But this slight potential benefit — a benefit which,

incidentally, could have been obtained by simply telling the truth and

presenting the facts, which in themselves are interesting enough —

remains neutralized by all of the confusion and distortion of ideas

which have been created in the anarchist camp.

It is true that those who come to us attracted by the clamor of this

misleading bourgeois propaganda certainly improve their ideas and throw

out much chaff they formerly took for wheat; but it’s also true,

unfortunately, that due to the temperament which predisposed them to

respond to bourgeois propaganda, residues of bourgeois influence remain

in them. Among those who take a mistaken mental direction, there are few

who know how, or are strong enough, to rectify it.

And so we have those who come to our ranks in the spirit of reprisal,

because of the hatred sown in their hearts by misery and hopelessness,

who come precisely because they believe that anarchy is the spirit of

violent reprisal and vengeance described by the bourgeoisie; and they

have refused to accept the true conception of anarchism, that is to say,

the negation of violence and the sublimity of love as the foundation of

solidarity. To these individuals anarchism has continued to be violence,

the bomb, the dagger, through a strange confusion of cause and effect,

of means and ends; and so true is this that when Parsons declared that

anarchism is not violence, and Malatesta declared that anarchism is not

the bomb, almost all of these people took them for renegades. There are

many who strongly wish to correct these errors, these vile bourgeois

distortions, who remember that anarchism is not the idealization of

vengeance, that the revolution the anarchists want is a revolution of

love, not of hate, that violence should be considered as a mortal venom

which is only employable as a counter-venom imposed by the necessities

of the struggle, and not by the desire to cause damage. Those who hold

these ideas, even though they are the most selfless, are called vile and

cowardly by those whose brains are infected with the bourgeois theory

that as an iron law violence should be employed.

Anarchy is the ideal of abolishing the violent and coercive authority of

human being over human being in every sphere, be it economic, religious,

or political. To be an anarchist it suffices to embrace this idea and in

consequence to work as much as possible to propagate the concept that

only the direct and revolutionary action of the people can lead to a

complete social and economic emancipation. All who nourish these

sentiments, who hold these ideas and struggle and spread them are

indubitably anarchists, even though their moral sense finds repugnant

some or other act of rebellion or vengeance committed by someone who

calls himself an anarchist, or even when they’re convinced that all acts

of individual rebellion are prejudicial to the cause. These individuals

can be mistaken in their opinions, but this does not mean that they’re

not coherent, convinced, and conscious anarchists.

There are, for example, vegetarian anarchists who include in their

beliefs vegetarianism; but good god, it would be very strange if these

people would maintain that those who are not vegetarians are not true

anarchists. It’s equally strange that there are those who maintain that

people who do not approve of or feel sympathy for violent individual

deeds are not anarchists. Propaganda by the deed can be useful or

harmful. but it is not integral to anarchist doctrine; it is simply a

method of struggle which can be discussed, admitted in whole or in part,

or excluded completely; but it does not constitute an article of faith

(to avail myself of a Catholic phrase) without which there is no

salvation, without which one cannot be an anarchist. Those who believe

the contrary and papally excommunicate others, simply because they don’t

feel an overriding sympathy for Ravachol or for Émile Henry, are victims

of the vile propaganda of the bourgeoisie, upon whose word they actually

believe that anarchism is violence. Unfortunately we still have a lot of

these myopic intellects in our camp ... But bourgeois influence doesn’t

end with the question of violence, which has so divided our energies and

upon which I’ve expounded so long because it’s so important, and to

which I’ll return later.

Perhaps someone will recall my polemic with our friend Zavattero about

the family and love in future society. I noted then that among many

anarchists there is a deplorable tendency to accept as their own theory

everything, or at least much, that the bourgeoisie have invented in

order to combat anarchism. We’ve already seen how this has occurred with

the question of violence. It has occurred equally with the question of

sexual relations.

In order to discredit us, bourgeois writers, using as a pretext our

criticism of the present day family’s authoritarian nature and the

domination of women by men, have deduced that we want the abolition of

the family, and, because of that, that we want women in common,

promiscuity, children without known fathers, incestuous relations,

sexual violence, and everything else that is the most savage, and at the

same time, the most ridiculous thing imaginable. In reality, anarchist

doctrine, from the first, has done nothing other than urge the

purification of affections from all intrusions and foreign sanctions, be

these legislative or clerical, political or religious; and along with

this, the emancipation of women, their being free and equal to men, and

the freedom to love without the coercion of economic necessity or any

other authority external to love itself-in a word, the redemption of the

family, restored to its natural bases: reciprocal love and the freedom

to choose.

I don’t want to say that this healthy concept of love and the family has

been repudiated by anarchists. I don’t want to accept the brutal,

vilifying bourgeois concept — totally the opposite. But this bourgeois

calumny still exercises a certain influence. Even though the immense

majority of anarchists hold to true concept of free love based upon the

free union, we haven’t lacked from time to time those who, knowing the

bourgeois critiques, have confused freedom to love with promiscuity.

Even though it’s disguised, this amorphous theory of love has a

bourgeois origin. It’s a consequence of the mania of many

revolutionaries who embrace as optimal that which conservatives battle

with horror, even though the conservatives attribute these things to us

for destructive ends.

The same thing has happened in regard to organization. Anarchists have

always maintained that life is not possible without association and

solidarity, and that struggle and revolution are not possible without a

pre-existing organization of revolutionaries. But it’s more convenient

for bourgeois writers to paint us as promoters of anarchy in the sense

of confusion, chaos; and they commence to say that we’re agents of

chaos, enemies of all organization. And with that they disinter

Nietzsche and then Stirner. Many anarchists swallow the bait and in

seriousness become promoters of chaos, Stirnerites, Nietzscheans, and

other similar absurdities. They reject organization, solidarity, and

socialism; some even end up sanctifying private property, and in this

manner end up playing the game of the bourgeois individualist. Their

ideas become, to use the phrase of FilippoTurati, the exaggeration of

bourgeois individualism.

The origin of this mania to accept as good everything which our enemies

believe bad can be found in every human spirit — contradiction and

contrast: “My enemy believes that this is bad, but as my enemy is never

right, that which he believes bad is, on the contrary, an excellent

thing.” There are many more than we would think, especially among

revolutionaries, who make this equation, which by chance can be correct

at times, but which in itself is extremely misleading.

“Ah! You call us evildoers? Well then, yes, we are evildoers!” How many

times this phrase has slithered from the lips of some anarchists — they

even have a “hymn of the evildoers.” To a degree this can pass and even

appear as a beautiful gesture of defiance to the enemy. But one cannot

admit in seriousness that anarchists are evildoers... But on the

contrary, by force of repeating this paradox, some end up taking it as

demonstrated truth. “Quod erat demostrandum!” then triumphantly exclaim

the bourgeoisie, who, after calling us thieves, arsonists, enemies of

the family, and evildoers, hear with satisfaction the exclamation of

this paradox, even though it’s only a gesture of defiance. It’s

necessary, then, to avoid this and not to become too enamored of

paradoxes.

We would do better to seek what pleases us independently of what our

enemies do. What is best for us to do is to propagate our ideas without

considering whether the bourgeoisie agree or disagree with us.

To sum up, we should ensure that our movement travels its own road,

independent of the direct or indirect influence of bourgeois calumny and

ideology, independently, be it in the positive or negative sense, of the

conduct of the conservatives. And we’ll be doing revolutionary and

eminently libertarian work, in that libertarian theory shows us that we

should emancipate ourselves socially and individually of all influences

which do not derive from and do not respond directly to our own

interests, to our liberty, and to our desires.

Anarchists and the Use of Violence

We’ll quickly discuss the verbal “violence” currently much in vogue

among revolutionary factions, especially that type of verbal abuse which

has the demerit of wasting and deforming ideas, of dividing people and

sowing rancor, of throwing up fences between those who, it would seem,

would otherwise be in accord. This violent-sounding propaganda and

polemic is more painful that the cut of a knife when it’s used against

comrades; and when it’s used against opponents it has precisely the

opposite effect of that intended. It causes the public to be alienated

from our ideas and erects a wall which separates us and which reduces us

to being eternal dreamers.

I’ll now occupy myself with the question of violence — not only of the

verbal variety — in relation to anarchism and the revolutionary struggle

against the bourgeoisie and the state.

Speaking of the verbal degeneration of one sector of anarchism (or what

passes for anarchism) under the influence of the bourgeoisie which

influences certain suffering spirits to accept everything the

bourgeoisie wish believed about anarchism — I have reason to repeat that

which I’ve stated in many other places and which I’ll never tire of

repeating: Anarchy is the negation of violence, and its final object is

peace among human beings. If I haven’t employed exactly these words in

other places, the sentiment is identical.

Anarchy is the negation of authority, inasmuch as it’s possible to

eliminate it in human society. An anarchic society will only be possible

when no person will be able to, or have the means to, make any other .

person, except through persuasion, do what they do not want to do. We

can’t foresee if the elimination of moral authority will also be

possible in the near future. Perhaps it’s not possible that it will

totally disappear, and I don’t even know if it’s desirable that it

totally disappear — but it will certainly diminish in proportion to the

importance and elevation of individual conscience in every sector of

society.

There is a certain authority which comes from experience or from science

which it is not possible to dismiss and which it would be crazy to

dismiss, just as it would be crazy for a sick person to rebel against

medical authority’s methods of curing illness, for a bricklayer not to

follow the architect’s plans in building a house, or for a mariner not

to follow the pilot’s instructions in navigating a ship. The sick

person, the bricklayer, and the mariner voluntarily obey the doctor, the

architect, and the pilot because they have freely accepted technical

direction from them. Well then, when a society is established in which

there are no forms of authority other than those of technique, science,

and moral influence, no one could deny that it’s an anarchist society.

We’re not playing with words. I intend to speak of actual violence, that

of material force used against a person or persons violating or reducing

their freedom, against their will(s) and causing damage or pain — or

simply the threat to use such force. It can’t be said that we’ll ever

secure perfect anarchy and perfect social peace — since nothing in this

world is perfect — but it’s undeniable that the absence of coercive

violence is the sine qua non for anarchist social organization.

Naturally then, violence would only be possible and necessary as a form

of self-defense against antisocial violence outside of the freely

accepted social pact, violence intended to violate the liberty and the

tranquility of the people. The suspicious and those who turn a deaf ear

to the term “social pact” will cry to high heaven — as if we social

anarchists want to establish a state or an obligatory system of living

for everyone. This is totally mistaken. Errico Malatesta, in his

pamphlet Fra Contadini [“Between Peasants”] outlined the question in the

following terms:

“In these matters,” said George, one of the characters in the dialogue,

“what we want to do by means of force is to put in common ownership the

primary materials of the soil, the instruments of labor, buildings, and

all existing riches. Regarding the means of organizing production and

distributing products, the people will do what they want... One can

foresee almost with certainty that in some places communism will be

established, in others collectivism, in others perhaps different

systems; and later, when the results of the various systems have been

seen and weighed, that which appears best will be commonly adopted. What

is essential is that no one attempts to command the rest, nor

appropriates to themselves the land and the means of production. We must

be alert to this in order to impede it if it starts to occur...”

And to the questions of what we would do if someone opposed that which

the rest had agreed to be in the common interest, or if some violated

the liberties of others with force, or if some refuse to work and

prejudice the interests of the rest, Malatesta responds:

“In the worst cases... if there were those who didn’t want to work, we

would be reduced to throwing them out of the community while giving them

the materials and tools necessary for them to work separately ... Then

(when someone would attempt to violate the liberty of others) naturally

it would be necessary to resort to force, given that if it’s unjust for

the majority to oppress the minority, neither is the contrary just; as

minorities have the right to insurrection, majorities have the right to

self-defense...”

In these cases individual liberty is not ignored because “always and in

all areas human beings will have the undeniable right to materials and

tools of work,” which enable them, of course to separate. It should be

understood that the same reasoning is valid for minorities, who will

always have the right to rebel against a majority which would wish to

violate their desires and freedom, since if this occurred anarchy would

exist only in name, not in fact. But even in this case we would be

dealing with defensive, not offensive, violence, the necessity of which

would demonstrate, in the final analysis, that anarchy had not yet

triumphed.

I hold, in reference to a future libertarian and socialist society, that

the minimum possible amount of violence should be used, and then only

for defensive purposes, never for offensive purposes. I’m speaking of

violence directed against human beings, given that the struggle for life

will always contain a certain amount of violence, directed, if not

against human beings, certainly against the blind forces of nature. As

Gauthier, Kropotkin, Lannesan and others have shown, the struggle for

life between men should be supplanted by association, by mutual aid, by

the struggle against nature, in order that we obtain the maximum amount

of well being possible.

In regard to the past, it will be necessary to make a complete

historical study to determine which instances of social violence have

been beneficial and which have been noxious, which have been useful and

which have been harmful to human welfare and progress. Many wars

certainly appear to have had beneficial effects, even though war in

itself is an evil thing. But one could, by studying them well, also

discover their harmful effects. given that historical events cannot be

absolutely divided between good and evil, between useful and damaging.

But we’ll leave to one side the past, upon which my opinion, in general,

is that the most useful instances of social violence have been

overwhelmingly those of the various revolutions against tyrannies which

have politically and economically oppressed their peoples.

No one has yet put in doubt the utility of certain instances of

individual and collective violence from Harmodius or Felice Orsini, from

the rebellion of Spartacus — even though plagued by lootings — to the

infinite twists and turns of the great French Revolution. But, I repeat,

we’ll leave the past because what concerns us is the present, and

especially that which concerns anarchism.

So, for instance, can it be said that today violence in the struggle is

always condemnable? Certainly not. A newspaper in Rome which asked me

about this matter obtained the response — which they chose not to print

— that we do not deliberately choose violence for love of violence

itself, but because particular conditions of the struggle force us to

employ it. In present day society, violence is everywhere and we absorb

its influence and provocation through every pore; and we frequently must

devour in order to avoid being devoured.

This is certainly a painful thing which contradicts our anarchist

sentiments. But what can we do? We do not yet have the power to choose

certain forms of social life over others, to choose the types of human

relations most in harmony with our ideas. From the moment in which we do

not wish to be only a school of philosophical discussion, but also a

revolutionary movement, we must employ the methods demanded of us by the

situation and which our adversaries actions influence us to use, methods

which they themselves employ.

In this sense we can say that anarchists and revolutionaries find

themselves in a legitimate state of defense in their rebellion against

oppression and exploitation. The oppressed and exploited are never the

first to employ violence, because the original violence comes from those

who oppress and exploit — precisely because exploitation and oppression

are continuous forms of violence far more terrible than any impatient

act of individual rebellion or even that of a people in rebellion. It’s

common knowledge that even the bloodiest of revolutions has not created

as many victims as a single war of brief duration, or even of a single

year of working class misery.

Can we conclude from this that anarchists always disapprove of violence

except in cases of self-defense against isolated and passing personal or

collective attacks? Not even in your dreams; and whoever would wish to

attribute such a stupid idea to us is ignorant and ill-intentioned. But

it would also be ignorant and ill-intentioned to argue that we’re always

and at any cost in favor of violence. Violence, besides being in itself

in contradiction with the philosophy of anarchism, is a thing which

saddens us because it causes tears and pain. It can impose itself

through necessity, but if it would be unpardonable weakness to condemn

it when it’s necessary, it would also be reprehensible to employ it when

it would be irrational, useless, or contrary to our interests.

In sum, and this applies to all revolutionaries, we should never

abdicate our own judgment. If we want to publish a paper, edit a

pamphlet, organize a conference or meeting, we always first measure if

it’s worth the trouble to spend the time and money, and we decide

affirmatively when we conclude that the probable results are worth the

effort necessary to obtain them. So why shouldn’t we use the same

decision-making process when the cost, as Malatesta aptly notes, is

figured in human lives — to see if this cost will obtain, at the

minimum, the same or equivalent effect which some other form of

propaganda would obtain? Certainly, in questions of this type it’s not

possible to make a precise measurement of the pros and cons of all acts;

but in the relative sense the previously mentioned considerations retain

their importance: as a general rule, reason should be preferred to

chance or to the irrational.

To present an example, if in any given moment it were necessary to the

triumph of a revolution to set fire to a library, I who love books would

consider it a crime to oppose the burning, even though I would consider

the fire a misfortune. The violence of the innovator, no matter how

implacable it might be, is always employed with loving thought: “He

compassionately commits cruelties,” says Giovanni Bovio. In equal manner

love is the guide when surgery is performed upon a sick person. But what

would we say of a surgeon who would operate simply for the pleasure of

operating?

To provide a more fitting example, In Russia all attacks against the

government, its representatives, and its supporters are considered

justified even by our adversaries and our most moderate partisans — even

when innocent people are wounded. But the same people would disapprove

of these acts if they were blindly committed against passersby in the

street, theater goers, or people sitting in a cafe.

“The new society should not commence with a vile act,” said Nicola

Barbato in his memorable declaration before a military tribunal. It

would be vile to sin through an excess of sentimentality when

revolutionary action is required; but it would likewise be mistaken to

hope for the triumph of a violent revolution guided by hate, which, as

Malatesta pointed out in an article twelve or fourteen years ago, would

conduct us to a new tyranny even if it covered itself with the mantle of

anarchy.

Violent Language in Polemics and Propaganda

One of the reasons revolutionary, and especially anarchist, propaganda

is so difficult to listen to and is so unpersuasive is that it employs a

form and language that are so abusive that instead of garnering

sympathy, it repels it — along with the interest of those who listen to

it.

I remember the first time that anarchist periodicals fell beneath my

gaze; their style, rather than persuading me, offended me, and I

probably never would have become an anarchist if, beyond reading

periodicals, I hadn’t had my interest perked by good-natured discussion

with a friend and the attentive reading of calm, serious, nonvirulent

books and pamphlets. And I also remember that what called my attention

to, and elicited my sympathy for, anarchism was precisely the abusive

language with which it was attacked by bourgeois writers of all shades

during the period 1892–1893.

In reading those violent attacks I sensed the weakness of the

authoritarian arguments; it was precisely the miserableness of the

arguments against anarchism which persuaded me, on the one hand, of the

reasonableness of libertarianism, and on the other, that when the aim in

propaganda is to convince rather than crush, that the poorer the

argument the more abusive the language. Since then, every time I’ve

undertaken a polemic, I’ve never felt so certain of myself as when I’ve

been grossly attacked: “You’re enraged? It’s because you’re wrong,” I’m

wont to say to myself when thinking of my opponent.

And I’m pleased that my attitude is exhibited by all of the most notable

scientific and cultural anarchists, and is demonstrated by the efficacy

of their propaganda. Peter Kropotkin, recalling the founding of “La

Révolté”, notes:

“Our periodical was moderate in form but revolutionary in substance...

The socialist periodicals frequently tend to submerse themselves in a

jeremiad over existing conditions ... misery and suffering, etc., are

described in vivid colors. In order to counter the depressing effect

these lamentations produce, they then recur to the magic of violent

words, with which they attempt to incite their readers... I believe, on

the contrary, that a revolutionary periodical ought to dedicate itself,

above all, to welcoming the signs which everywhere are the prelude to

the advent of a new era, the germination of new forms of social life,

the growing rebellion against the old institutions ... That which makes

the worker feel that his heart beats in unison with the heart of

humanity throughout the entire world, that which takes part in rebellion

against secular injustice, in attempts to create new social conditions

... I hold that that should be the primary mission of a revolutionary

periodical.”

Given that the objective of propaganda is to persuade, it’s necessary to

know how to employ appropriate language. I remember a French anarchist

who in articles, conferences, and even in personal conversation, would

begin by calling his adversaries “bestial,” be they priests or

businessmen, republicans or socialists, or even anarchists who didn’t

share his opinions. Imagine an opponent who treated us so grossly. If

the matter didn’t end in a fist fight, it’s at least certain that he

would never persuade us even if he had all the reason in the world on

his side.

Should we then put on gloves to contend with our enemies and with those

who decieve the public? Certainly not, but it’s still preferable that

abuse be employed in verbal arguments, rather than in nonverbal forms.

Clearly the people have to some degree opened their eyes and hate those

who dominate them, so it’s not necessary to be afraid to speak.

In certain circumstances it would be vile and dangerous to quiet one’s

indignation. But to always be indignant, come what may, even when

speaking of historical materialism, of individualism, or of

concentration of capital, is puerile and involves the risk that our

adversaries won’t take us seriously, having become accustomed to

hyperbolic words and phrases which eventually lose their efficacy

completely.

I know of relatively free lands where there are no obstacles to written

propaganda, where the most unbridled fantasy can be used to attack the

entire universe with the most violent literary dynamite and firebombs

available to anyone who wishes to attack the “vile bourgeoisie.” The

police in these countries have no cause for alarm, because those who

write with such fury soon exhaust their entire repertoire of harsh

rhetoric and have no effect upon their readers. What’s worse is that

when the day arrives in which it’s really necessary to raise the tone of

voice in articles and discourses, writers and orators are impotent to

produce the slightest impression upon a public already tired of their

virulence. And then propaganda loses three-fourths of its value.

We’re frequently strident in propaganda not to convince, but rather to

put down our adversaries, or to produce a “pretty” literary gesture.

This was the case with Tailhade, who wrote admirable apologies in prose

and verse for every physically violent political attack, but who folded

his tents after a year in jail and joined the nationalist party because

it would have had bad consequences for him had he continued anarchist

apologetics.

The “pretty gesture” can be good and useful — but only when it’s done

with valor and dignity, when the insolence is openly thrown in the face

of the enemy and when responsibility for it is accepted. Then the word

is made flesh and results in propaganda of the deed. More than once

we’ve seen those thought among anarchists to be timid, who when

presented with the occasion were heroes before bayonets or tribunals;

and, in contrast, we’ve seen many terrible loudmouths become silent when

danger presented itself, or, worse yet, become figures of ridicule, like

some of the most strident editors of “Sempre Avanti” of Livorno, and of

“Ordine” of Turin, who in the years 1893–1894 wrote with a dynamite bomb

on the editor’s desk, but who when brought to trial renounced anarchism,

called upon the parish priest to testify to their good characters after

devoutly recieving communion, called themselves evolutionary Spencerian

anarchists, and other things even worse. It’s less damaging when abusive

language has artistic merit or embodies a substantially correct concept;

but in the immense majority of cases, the most abusive statements are

expressed in a vocabulary which causes laughter or pain.

Naturally, the foregoing should be taken with a grain of salt, since,

unfortunately, in certain circles strident language in propaganda and

polemics has become so habitual that many believe it indispensable and

will be offended by my words. But I don’t speak of these valiant and

loyal comrades, or better said, yes, I am speaking of them, but in order

to convince them of the foregoing facts — that it’s damaging to the

propagation of our ideas to persist in inadequate methods, methods which

are injurious. If those who read what I say are evolved reasonable

persons, it won’t bother them that I’m poking a sore spot. It will

undoubtedly irritate those few who know they’re doing evil work for the

unconfessable ends of personal vanity or success, or

pseudo-revolutionary glory.

The truth is that many who speak loudly and strongly also know how to

work effectively; and there are those who don’t limit themselves to

using moderate terms, but are also moderate in substance, in deeds. I

admire the former and deplore the latter, and feel closer to the first

even though we might be separated by doctrinal or tactical differences.

But the truth remains the same — things should be done keeping the end

in mind.

The goal of propaganda and polemics is to convince and persuade. Well

then, we can’t convince and we can’t persuade with abusive language,

insults, and invective, but rather with courtesy and the educational

effects of our bearing and actions. Only when a force which threatens or

oppresses us places a material obstacle in our path, an obstacle which

we can’t overcome without resorting to violence — be it opposition to

our propaganda, an obstacle to our movement, or brutal limitation of our

liberty and well-being — only then is violence logical; but then to be

“violent” in words would be very ridiculous. To present an example, I

would say that it’s ridiculous to attempt to convince people with

violence, just as it would be ridiculous to attempt to win an

insurrection with simple written or spoken arguments.

In accord with what I’ve said before, not all those who scream most

violently are cowards, just as not all those who speak moderately are

made of the metal of heroes, but the damage to our propaganda from the

habits of the former are immeasurably greater than the damage from the

habits of the latter. If tomorrow, in the material struggle, those who

do not preach and posture as macho tough guys would show themselves to

be cowards, it would be bad, but it would be an unobserved evil. But if

those who mouth off about terrible things, and attract the antipathy of

those who disagree with them, would show themselves to be cowards, the

effect would be disastrous. And the people and our adversaries would

have plausible reasons, at first glance, not to take us seriously.

The truth is that in times of calm, the rude word which is a moral slap

in the face practically becomes a necessity when we find ourselves faced

with a fact which makes us indignant or opponents of recognized

dishonesty. But the harsh word of protest and the moral slap in the face

are much more efficacious the less they are employed.

Try, rather, to use language which is moderate in form, but which in

substance expresses what you want to say completely and without

compromise; and try to habituate your readers to the polite form of the

polemic. Then, when for good reason you have to raise the tone of your

voice, see if you aren’t better understood than you would be if you

constantly screamed like a demon.

In propaganda it’s always necessary to strike a chord which resonates in

the human heart, and this will be impossible if you habituate your

spirit to violence. After the first impression, habit takes over. It’s

like a person who is at first enormously impressed upon simply hearing

the discharge of a revolver, but later doesn’t become the least bit

agitated when at a firing range. And we need to agitate incessantly in

order to call attention to our arguments.

It could be objected, and with reason, that we live in an atmosphere of

such violence and evil that it’s not always possible to preserve the

desirable serenity. No one would dispute this; my observations only have

suggestive value for those who dedicate themselves to propaganda.

Similarly, it’s true that there are institutions and persons toward

which it is not possible to be tolerant, toward which we have the

sacrosanct duty, as our poet says, to combat them “without respect and

without courtesy.” For example, when one speaks of the government it

would be stupid to search for euphemisms.

The truth is that when one speaks badly of trashy people it’s necessary

to be very careful not to attribute actions to them which they have not

committed, in order not to give them a pretext to protest and proclaim

their goodness and honor. Through excessive indulgence in this type of

exaggeration, we’ve given rise among our adversaries to the ironic

phrase, “It’s raining. It’s the government’s fault!” But all

governments, even though they’re not responsible for the rain, cause

much graver damage, and it’s not necessary to have fears about attacking

them. One can never attack governments, priests, and bosses enough, and

if harsh polemic and propaganda is employed solely against them, nothing

need be said, save what I’ve already mentioned.

But the “violence” of language in polemics and propaganda, “violence” in

word and writing, which at times has sadly resulted in physical violence

against persons, the “violence” which I deplore above all, is that which

is employed against other progressive parties, more or less

revolutionary, not that that matters, which are composed of the

oppressed and exploited like ourselves, people like us who desire to

bring about positive changes in the present socio-political situation.

Those parties which aspire to power will undoubtedly, when they achieve

it, become enemies of the anarchists. But as this is yet distant, as

their intentions can be good and we would also like to get rid of many

evils which they want to eliminate, and as we have many enemies in

common against whom we might, perhaps, launch more than one battle, it’s

useless, when it’s not prejudicial to our interests, to treat them

abusively, given that what now divides us is a difference of opinion;

and to treat someone abusively because s/he doesn’t think or work like

us is a grand presumption, an antisocial act.

The propaganda and polemics directed at elements of the other parties

should, in order to attract them, persuade them of the worthiness of our

reasoning. What we’ve already said along general lines, that those who

are treated as evil persuade themselves that they are evil, is very

applicable to assimilable elements — youths, workers, already awakened

minds, those already on the road to the truth. The impact of abuse

delays them on this path rather than pushing them forward. Some of their

leaders may be treacherous, but tell me, are we certain that there

aren’t persons working in the same manner among ourselves? Should we

attack them all, gather them all in the same net, when what we want is

to attack those who work treacherously, and not everyone in the entire

party? Certainly many of their doctrines are in error, but to

demonstrate their error it’s not necessary to insult them; certain of

their methods are harmful to the revolutionary cause, but working

differently, in our own manner, and by using example and reasoned

demonstration, we’ll show them that our methods are better.

All of the comments in this pamphlet have suggested themselves to me

because of a phenomenon which I’ve observed in our own camp. We have

become so accustomed to shouting about everything, that we’ve been

gradually losing our appreciation of the value of words and their

differences in meaning. The same depreciative adjectives serve equally

to tar the priest, the monarchist, the republican, the socialist, and

even those anarchists who have the misfortune not to think as we do —

and this is a basic defect.

Without wanting to dwell upon the innumerable times that I’ve heard the

terms “mystifiers,” “clerics,” “crazies,” “cowards,” and other similar

niceties among good comrades, it will suffice to give an example I’ve

found (and cite with disgust) in a periodical which calls itself

“anarchist.” In the letters column they have a correspondent called

Fulano (not his real name) who promises that “during the next congress

of social anarchists in Rome, I’ll throw a bomb into them.” That would

appear a joke, a sick joke certainly, if the entire periodical hadn’t

been a testimonial to that rancorous, almost hateful phrase.

It’s a commonplace that fights are most common between brothers... and

that makes a miserable brotherhood. I would urge against these sad and

painful methods. To me, the only adequate method appears to be not to

resort to insults, or at most, limiting ourselves to exposing those who

use abusive language or come to sow confusion and discord in our camp.

I still believe that it would be best that we get to know each other and

above all to work without losing sight of the fact that we have before

us our enemy, our true enemy who awaits the moment of our weakness in

order to attack us. Never, in the manner of those parties in which

action is the only reason for being. could it be said with more reason

that laziness is the worst of the vices — and discord is the first.

Not always, especially from those adept at using the pen, is abuse

against comrades or against our friends in parties with similar ends,

the rudest type, which perhaps, is not the worst. How many slashes given

with knowing malignity, how many elegant ironies, how much sarcasm, how

much ridicule we use at times in order to tumble an adversary! These

weapons are used especially when we know we’re not right, when our

consciences tell us that we’re attacking someone who doesn’t merit it

and instead deserves our praise. Then, in order to appear superior, the

propaganda becomes doubly damaging, because not only do we not convince

the person we attack, but we also disgust those who hold him or her in

esteem.

Another grave defect in polemicizing against or criticizing someone is

the a priori presumption of bad faith. Naturally, when we deal with

someone who does work treacherously, we shouldn’t be afraid to say so.

But to treat someone as dealing in bad faith, it’s necessary to present

proof evident to anyone. It will be enough to present such proof to

decorously put an end to a polemic. And if the proof is not self-evident

and there is no absolute certainty, it would be an error to base a rude

polemic on vague and simple presumptions. It’s preferable, even though

one suspects the contrary, to suppose good faith in one’s adversaries,

while not hesitating to blast them when their bad faith later becomes

evident.

In general, when one deals with proselytizing propaganda or polemics,

it’s necessary to construct the discussion upon a foundation of mutually

admitted good faith, given that the purpose is to convince the greatest

number of listeners who sympathize with one’s opponent. If I discuss the

conquest of public power with the head of a political party, I know well

how difficult it will be to convince him, but what primarily interests

me is to have those who follow him listen to what I say.

Additionally, we ought to treat the ideas of others and their persons

with respect when we discuss them with people we don’t know. Imagine if

we had discussions with other anarchists in distant locations. What

would they say if we treated them as if they were foolish and

treacherous, basing ourselves upon an arbitrary interpretation of an

isolated event, or upon a few phrases spoken about us, or upon an

article in a periodical, etc.? What would they say if we attributed

ideas to them which they didn’t have, tending to think evil of them

rather than good? What would they say, in sum, if we treated them not as

sincere comrades, but rather as evilly intentioned adversaries whom we

want to denigrate and annihilate? They would say that we are ignorant,

malicious, and intolerant people who intend to strangle the voice of

those who do not think as we do. They would say that we desire to defame

rather than to convince them, because of an overriding spirit of

supremacy and a desire to destroy their reputations.

And given that we’re speaking of abusive language, let’s also speak,

before ending of that which is directed not against persons, but against

ideas, and which we can term “rhetorical violence.”

When we engage in propaganda, we have the custom, in order to cause the

greatest impression, of speaking and writing in figurative manner,

through means of contrast, hyperbole, simile. It’s a natural method and

one to which we must recur when we’re directing ourselves to persons who

are uncultivated or of simple spirit, and as such very impressionable,

and in whom we can inculcate our ideas more. vividly and deep-seatedly

through imagery rather than through cold and mathematical reasoning.

But this utility has a danger. While we all have a natural tendency to

exaggerate arguments and images when writing or speaking about things

which excite us, that same exaggeration at times neutralizes the effect

of our words. Let’s be clear. It appears to me that we anarchists

shouldn’t make too many distinctions: governments that are monarchic,

theocratic, socialist, republican, are for us almost equal and we ought

to combat them all. But if we make distinctions, we shouldn’t make them

in favor of the worst forms of government.

Because of this one can’t say that the secular lie is worse than the

religious lie. The religious lie is always the most potent and venomous

of all, in a manner vastly more damaging than that of the secular lie,

which, not because of intrinsic merit, but because of its inherent

weakness, is less venomous. Let me explain: If you suffer from a

toothache; you certainly would not seriously contend that it’s worse

than an attack of apoplexy. It’s definitely not good to suffer from

either of these things, but if some distinction need be made, frankly,

we’d prefer the toothache. Wouldn’t you agree?

Here is what Malato says in regard to the Russian Revolution, arguing

with certain comrades who maintain, because of love of hyperbole, that

things are worse in France than in Russia. This is an exaggeration which

carries as consequences disinterest in the Russian movement and

abstention from the protest carried on by intellectuals and workers in

Paris in favor of the Russian revolutionaries. [These lines were written

before the Bolsheviks seized control of and betrayed the Russian

Revolution.] What should be said is that if the French government is

more liberal than that in Russia it’s not by its own merit, but because

the French people knew how to make a revolution, a Commune, and

consequently, have known how to resist reactionary violence. What should

be said is: We desire that the Russian people will know what to do

better than the French people, and will do it better...

Let us then leave to one side useless exaggerations, useless abuse and

fratricidal polemics, and let us work toward something else, no matter

how little it may be, instead of wasting time flapping our jaws.

Luigi Fabbri