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Title: The Anarchy Police Author: Stanislav Vysotsky Date: 28th January 2015 Language: en Topics: anti-fascism, criminology Source: Critical Criminology, 23(3), 235–253. Retrieved on 12th May 2021 from https://doi.org/10.1007%2Fs10612-015-9267-6
Anarchist criminology has produced a strong critique of the system of
criminal law, but has only recently started to theorize practical
alternatives. The alternatives that it offers have been largely rooted
in pacifism through the practice of restorative justice and deescalation
of conflict. These models are generally effective so long as the
individuals involved are committed to the process being applied.
Ethnographic study of the anti-fascist movement in the United States
demonstrates a potential model of anarchist response to threats of
community and public safety in prefigurative subcultural spaces. The
confrontational and violent tactics employed by militant anti-fascists
serve as a form of policing based on anarchist principles of
spontaneity, direct democracy, and direct action; and can serve as a
starting point for theorizing proactive anarchist actions against
individuals who threaten public safety and order.
Anarchist criminology has traditionally advocated alternatives rooted in
pacifist visions of restorative justice to existing systems of criminal
justice. These restorative practices often ‘‘[aim] at the good of all,
freedom and justice for all, solidarity and love among the people’’
(Malatesta N.d.). Restorative justice methods, however, are often only
applied after crimes—and other violations of social and community
norms—have occurred in order to bring a sense of peace and justice to
the aggrieved, the community, and the perpetrator. In this respect,
restorative justice presents only part of the anarchist answer to the
question of how to address crime without reliance on the system of
criminal law. Anarchism has produced very few models for how to prevent
or address crime when it is occurring because such responses often
involve the exertion of force or power that is antithetical to anarchist
principles. Yet anarchism is also driven by a belief in direct action
and developing prefigurative models of future institutions in a
pre-revolutionary society. Militant opposition to fascist organizing may
serve as a model for proactive and preventative anarchist responses to
threats of social order and safety.
Direct, often violent, opposition to the fascist movement presents a
unique challenge to criminologists. Often such opposition is understood
in popular discourse as ‘‘gang violence’’ which places it under the
purview of the state. For mainstream criminology, the understanding of
such actions becomes similar to that of any other form of gang activity,
often because the violence takes place within and between subcultures in
social spaces.
Criminologists and criminal justice professionals see a violent clash
involving members of Punk and/or Skinhead subcultures as a product of
internal conflicts over subcultural dominance and control of social
space (Blazak 2001). Such actions may also be interpreted as acts of
vigilantism because they involve the extra-legal use of violence in
order to admittedly maintain the social order of the subculture within
which these conflicts take place.[1] The research presented in this
article will demonstrate that such actions are in fact an attempt to
maintain order within the subculture and its social spaces, as well as
the safety of participants. The militant approach to anti-fascism
presents a unique form of anarchist praxis and makes a distinct
contribution to anarchist criminology by incorporating a form of direct
action against a collective threat represented by individual fascists.
By directly acting against fascists, militant anti-fascists express the
anarchist values of direct action and non-state action. In this sense,
militant anti-fascist violence among subcultural participants acts as a
form of anarchist policing of the prefigurative spaces that these
subcultures represent because it (1) reflects a disdain for civil
society and the state; (2) involves direct action; and (3) presents an
alternative to state action. This anarchist, direct action approach also
represents a crucial contribution to the field of critical criminology
because it embodies a radical, pro-active approach to resolving issues
of social order within subcultural communities that often wish to remain
outside of both the purview and restrictions of the law and the state.
Such practices may serve as a starting point for a broader discussion
regarding alternative practices to current modes of policing.
This article develops this anarchist approach to ‘‘policing’’ by first
outlining the basic principles of anarchism and its understanding of the
practices of social control. Then, the case examples are contextualized
through a discussion of the practices of contemporary fascism and
anti-fascism as they are manifest in subcultural participation in the
Punk scene. Such activity is linked to anarchist practice by
understanding it as a form of ‘‘prefigurative’’ political practice
typical of new social movements (see Polletta 1999). After establishing
the concepts used to understand militant anti-fascism as a form of
anarchist praxis, I briefly outline the process of data collection
followed by case examples of anti-fascist actions as forms of policing
action. The article concludes by discussing the processes that ground
militant anti-fascist practices as forms of anarchist social control as
described above.
Anarchism developed as a distinct strand of socialism in the nineteenth
century (Guerin 1970).Contemporary anarchism has splintered into a
diversity of branches that are based on a variety of historical
circumstances and philosophical influences. Nonetheless, the core of the
theory has not changed since its early theoretical articulations:
ANARCHISM…, the name given to a principle or theory of life and conduct
under which society is conceived without government — harmony in such a
society being obtained, not by submission to law, or by obedience to any
authority, but by free agreements concluded between the various groups,
territorial and professional, freely constituted for the sake of
production and consumption, as also for the satisfaction of the infinite
variety of needs and aspirations of a civilized being. In a society
developed on these lines, the voluntary associations which already now
begin to cover all the fields of human activity would take a still
greater extension so as to substitute themselves for the state in all
its functions. They would represent an interwoven network, composed of
an infinite variety of groups and federations of all sizes and degrees,
local, regional, national and international temporary or more or less
permanent — for all possible purposes: production, consumption and
exchange, communications, sanitary arrangements, education, mutual
protection, defence of the territory, and so on; and, on the other side,
for the satisfaction of an ever-increasing number of scientific,
artistic, literary and sociable needs. Moreover, such a society would
represent nothing immutable. On the contrary — as is seen in organic
life at large — harmony would (it is contended) result from an
ever-changing adjustment and readjustment of equilibrium between the
multitudes of forces and influences, and this adjustment would be the
easier to obtain as none of the forces would enjoy a special protection
from the state (Kropotkin [1910] 2001).
Kropotkin’s description summarizes the key principles of
anarchism—direct opposition to the state and other formal structures of
authority, an opposition to capitalism and the free-market system, and a
belief that the masses of people can manage their own affairs if given
the freedom and opportunity (Guerin 1970; Kropotkin [1910]
2001).Anarchists believe that the social changes necessary for their
vision of society to come to fruition will be achieved through
revolution because those who hold power will not relinquish it
voluntarily. Anarchist praxis focuses on working to build models of
social organization within the framework of the existing society and
taking direct action against the state and other forms of
authoritarianism (Avrich 1988; Ferrell 2001; Graeber 2002; Guerin 1970).
The anarchist opposition to the state comes from a belief that the state
is tyrannical and authoritarian. As evidence, anarchists present a
litany of the state’s abuses:
To be governed is to be watched over, inspected, spied on, directed,
legislated, regimented, closed in, indoctrinated, preached at,
con-trolled, assessed, evaluated, censored, commanded; all by creatures
that have neither the right, nor wisdom, nor virtue…. To be governed
means that at every move, operation, or transaction one is noted,
registered, entered in a census, taxed, stamped, priced, assessed,
patented, licensed, authorized, recommended, admonished, prevented,
reformed, set right, corrected. Government means to be subjected to
tribute, trained, ransomed, exploited, monopolized, extorted, pressured,
mystified, robbed; all in the name of public utility and the general
good. Then, at the first sign of resistance or word of complaint, one is
repressed, fined, despised, vexed, pursued, hustled, beaten up,
garroted, imprisoned, shot, machine-gunned, judged, sentenced, deported,
sacrificed, sold, betrayed, and to cap it all, ridiculed, mocked,
outraged, and dishonored. That is government, that is its justice and
its morality! (Proudhon quoted in Guerin 1970: 15–16)
For anarchists, the state, no matter how liberal or democratic, can
never act in the interests of the population. Daniel Guerin (1970)
describes the anarchist position on democracy as follows:
The people were declared sovereign by a ‘‘trick’’ of our forefathers…
The people rule but do not govern, and delegate their sovereignty
through the periodic exercise of universal suffrage, abdicating their
power anew every three or five years. The dynasts have been driven from
the throne but the royal prerogative has been pre-served intact. In the
hands of a people whose education has been willfully neglected the
ballot is a cunning swindle benefitting only the united barons of
industry, trade, and property (17).
The state is seen as truly representing the interests of the powerful
classes, or in a worst-case scenario, the interests simply of the people
who comprise the organs of the state. Any affirmation of the state
effectively takes control away from the individual and places it in the
hands of an institution more powerful than the self. In the anarchist
analysis, the state not only has a monopoly on the legitimate use of
force, but ultimately a monopoly on all behavior within its boundaries
and will gladly repress and destroy any activity that it finds
threatening.
Because anarchists believe that the state serves only the interests of
those who hold power economically, politically, and socially, they seek
to create models of an anarchist society within the framework of the
existing system. In this sense, anarchist ideology is predicated on
constructing a prefigurative society to model the future (Avrich 1988;
Guerin 1970).By taking ‘‘direct action’’ in relation to their lives,
anarchists simultaneously reject the power of the state and other
structures of power. Direct action becomes a form of praxis by applying
anarchist principles in the here-and-now rather than engaging in slow
processes of reform which may or may not bring about the change that
they desire. Anarchists have, therefore, been involved in social
movements that are countercultural in their orientation or place a
strong emphasis on prefigurative politics (Ferrell 2001). Unfortunately,
they are also seen as incapable of making compromises because their
ideology has strict prohibitions against working within existing
institutions, especially with the state. The focus on prefigurative
action in anarchist ideology has developed into a preference for tactics
that involve directly attacking the targets of their opposition. Taking
direct action often places anarchists at odds with more moderate
activists and with agents of the state (Ferrell 2001; Graeber 2002).
The direct action of anarchist praxis often focuses on process rather
than a predeter-mined outcome or result. Anarchist philosophy views
formal restrictions of bureaucracy, law, or religion as inherently
oppressive to the expression of the individual (Ferrell 2001; Guerin
1970). This is not to say that anarchists envision a world of Hobbesian
chaos in place of the ‘‘rule of law’’ established by the state and
carried out by its agents (read: police). The anarchist vision of a
society free of government and law ensures peace and social order by
prioritizing core concepts of justice, fairness, and equality (Berkman
[1929]
2003; Ferrell 1998; Pepinsky 1978; Tifft 1979). Such concepts reinforce
the anarchist belief that the response to violence and other threats to
social order cannot be developed in a universal manner before such
threats occur. Instead, they posit that responses must occur after the
violation and in keeping with the needs of all parties involved—victims,
perpetrators, and the community at large (Brisman 2011; Ferrell 1998;
Sullivan and Tifft 2001;
Tifft 1979). In this sense, anarchists are more averse to the formal
structures of law and the state than informal codes of conduct or
procedures necessary to maintain the safety of a community and its
members.[2] Such principles and practices, therefore, serve as the basis
for the development of an anarchist criminology.
Anarchist ideology produces a unique perspective within the field of
criminology. Because anarchism is predicated on the illegitimacy of the
state and its actions, it informs a criminology that is fundamentally
critical of the actions of the state as it attempts to maintain social
order. Yet anarchist criminologists are not content merely with
challenging state practices of control and posit alternative forms of
social organization as the solution to the problems presented in their
critique (Ferrell 1998).Anarchist criminologists present three key
criticisms of state action in the interest of crime prevention and
control: (1) the notion that the state has legitimate power over the
lives of individuals; (2) the practices of construction and
reinforcement of criminality through the creation and repression of
criminal acts and identities; and (3) the criminal justice actions of
the state perpetuate its legitimacy while being ineffective at actually
preventing anti-social crime.
As noted above, the state has inordinate power over the life of every
individual that is governed by it. This power is fully witnessed when an
individual violates codified law. Tifft (1979) notes that the state has
exclusive power to ‘‘appropriate’’ the life and property of any
individual who falls under its jurisdiction. When an individual violates
the law, this appropriation often takes the form of imprisonment or, in
extreme cases, death. In all cases, the state takes control of the life
of the individual for its own ends. Even practices of victim restitution
serve as a form of appropriation because ‘‘when we compensate a ‘victim’
of an appropriation by appropriating an ‘offender’s’ resource, we merely
increase the incidence of appropriation’’ (Tifft 1979: 394). Such acts
serve only to legitimize the appropriations enacted by the state, and
therefore, its control over the individual.
At least since the days of Durkheim ([1895] 1999), criminologists have
understood crime as a construction of a particular society. Anarchists
challenge the very notion that this practice is legitimate and
necessary. By defining criminal and non-criminal alike, the state
creates a ‘‘downward spiral of crime, criminalization, and inhumanity’’
(Ferrell 1998: 10). Those who have the misfortune of being criminalized
are alienated from the ‘‘non-criminal’’ population and become limited in
terms of personal and professional development, which results in further
crime and criminalization. Those who are not criminalized respond with
fear and a greater demand for state intervention, thereby strengthening
the power and control of the state and its estrangement from others
(Ferrell 1998). The clear beneficiary of such a dynamic is the state,
which grows stronger in light of public demands for protection and ever
increasing rates of crime.
As the state grows more powerful in response to demand for ‘‘crime
control,’’ a vast bureaucratic structure is developed that further
controls the daily lives of individuals through increasing surveillance
and regulation. This structure is largely ineffective at reducing crime
and acts of criminality, however. The growth of state bureaucracy in the
control of crime is evident in the ever-increasing rates of criminal
justice careers, institutions (such as prisons), and individuals under
the control of the criminal justice system (Pepinsky 1978). The growing
bureaucracy is both the product and the origin of ‘‘a proliferation of
legal controls’’ that regulate and criminalize almost every aspect of
everyday life (Ferrell 1998: 10; Tifft and Sullivan 1980).In the end,
the state can never achieve its stated goals of crime prevention and
control because its actions are ultimately contradictory and
self-defeating. ‘‘The rule of criminal law,’’ as enacted by the state,
requires ‘‘swiftness, sureness, and severity.’’ As the state acts to
maximize one or two of these principles, however, it violates another
(Pepinsky 1978: 317). If the state acts quickly (swiftness), then it is
likely to violate due process or condemn an innocent person, violating
the principle of sureness, and so on with the remaining principles. In
the end, the state simply grows larger and more powerful without
effectively controlling ‘‘crime.’’
While anarchists have been long on critique of the state and its role in
the construction and control of crime, there has been little theoretical
or practical development of alternatives to existing models criminal
justice. The notable exception to this claim has been a theoretical
focus on restorative justice as an anarchist practice of resolution to
criminal violations (Brisman 2011; Pepinsky and Quinney 1991; Sullivan
and Tifft 2001; Tifft and Sullivan 1980).The anarchist criminological
vision of restorative justice involves a needs-based approach to
resolving the conflict that stems from harms caused by criminal
activity.
This approach involves the meeting of needs of all parties
involved—those being harmed, those who have harmed, and the community as
a whole. The restorative justice process is designed to humanize the
victims and perpetrators of crime and come to a resolution that meets
the needs of all parties involved. It rejects a system of justice that
is predicated on punishment and seeks to build strong interpersonal
relationships fundamental to a non-hierarchical society. Restorative
justice also requires the community to be involved in the process and to
rebuild in the wake of the harm that initiated it. This is a
fundamentally anarchist approach because it critiques the existing form
of justice and state action as well as offers a non-state, non-violent
solution to the problem of social harm caused by criminal activity. In
spite of this, there has been little scholarship on how anarchists can
be proactive in dealing with questions of public order and safety as
they occur.
The existing work on anarchist attempts at ‘‘policing’’ have focused on
projects that seek to prevent or de-escalate conflict and confrontation
through pacifist practice. Michael Niman (2011) uses the case study of
the Rainbow Family gatherings to point out practical models of anarchist
pacifist intervention. He explains that the Rainbow gatherings used two
distinct methods to ensure the safety of their participants: the
physical separation of violent and aggressive attendees into an
‘‘A-Camp’’ that is simultaneously a part of and apart from the rainbow
gathering, and the Shanti Sena practice of de-escalating aggression in
the main camp. As an open event, the Rainbow Family gathering does not
turn away any participants. This structure draws individuals who may not
be completely committed to the ideology and principles of the Rainbow
Family. In order to accommodate these individuals and provide for the
safety of the larger group, the Rainbow gatherings create a space where
participants can consume alcohol and engage in ‘‘disruptive antics’’ in
a liminal space between the utopian, pacifist main camp and ‘‘Babylon’’
(Niman 2011: 67). This is seen as a uniquely anarchist practice because
it allows the participants in A-Camp a freedom to engage in whatever
activities they choose, including activities that are not consistent
with the Rainbow values and practices, without threatening the integrity
of the camp as a whole, while at the same time, affording them the
opportunity to participate in the Rainbow experience in the anarchist
spirit of openness and direct democracy. In addition to this practice of
separation, Rainbow participants engage in a practice of de-escalation
that they refer to as Shanti Sena, or ‘‘peace center’’ (Niman 2011: 68).
This practice involves Rainbow participants surrounding a fellow
participant who is becoming agitated and aggressive and encouraging
her/him to de-escalate through ‘‘smiles and eye contact, as well as
friendly touch, when appropriate’’ (Niman 2011: 68). When such efforts
are not enough, participants engage in the practice of creating an ‘‘Om
circle’’ or ‘‘Omming’’ where the aggressive individual is encircled by a
group of people who chant ‘‘the harmonic syllable ‘Ommmmmm’’’ (Niman
2011: 68). This practice is generally effective in deescalating
aggression and potential violence because the individual being encircled
is committed to the pacifist principles of the group.
Ferrell (2011) has presented a similar practice among bicycle activists
engaged in Critical Mass protests—a practice known as ‘‘corking,’’
whereby participating bicyclists will break off from the main group in
order to act as traffic police and to de-escalate potential conflicts
with motorists and bystanders. Both of these practices demonstrate
anarchist principles of mass, voluntary participation because the
individuals intervening are doing so on a voluntary basis and have not
been singled out to engage in the activity.
The people engaging in such practices are neither elected nor selected
and come from the group based on a personal desire to intervene and take
action. These people are also given no special power or authority by
virtue of their position in the practice of ‘‘Omming’’ or ‘‘corking,’’
and any participant is free to engage in this action. While these models
have been effective at preventing or de-escalating conflict, they do not
provide anarchists with a model for voluntary, direct democratic
practices to confront violence or threats of violence.
The peaceful tactics described above are effective largely because they
are geared toward individuals who share the values of the group or are
not directly hostile and ideologically committed to engaging in
violence. Anti-fascists, however, are confronting individuals who thrive
on violence and adhere to an ideology that valorizes its use against
opponents (Berlet 1992; Schlembach 2013; Vysotsky 2013).By challenging
fascists through direct confrontation, even violence, militant
anti-fascists engage in a form of anarchist praxis. Rather than relying
on police or the state to take action in defense of a community against
fascist threats, militants organize themselves and their community to
take on the threat. This is the result of a direct hostility to police
and other agents of the state that stems from a belief that they
represent the interests of power rather than the interests of the
people. Consistent with anarchist perspectives, militants therefore
blatantly display a disrespect for existing laws and legal structures as
products of systems of power.
Finally, militant activity ultimately represents a form of non-state
action against fascists, and models a form of self-defense that is in
some ways prefigurative of anarchist community defense.
In order to understand militant anti-fascism as a form of anarchist
policing practice, one must be familiar with the ideology and praxis of
both sides in this conflict. The common conception of fascist movements
tends to be foreign and historical—they are often understood to be
authoritarian movements that arose in Europe during the 1930s. In
popular discourse, the terms ‘‘fascist’’ and ‘‘fascism,’’ have become
overused as pejorative or ad hominem attacks to such an extent that they
have little meaning for most audiences.
In the United States, it is often more common to refer to the movement
that is described in this article as the white supremacist movement.
White supremacy, however, represents a racial politics that is only part
of a larger ideology of supremacy that is consistent with a contemporary
manifestation of fascism.[3] Fascist movements have, nevertheless,
prolifer-ated since the end of World War II, developing an evolving
ideology and modernized tactics.
Fascist ideology is rooted in a support for traditional hierarchies.
Among contemporary fascist movements, this is often publicly visible in
their racial politics. Contemporary Western fascists often place great
importance on asserting the validity of biological conceptions of race
and hierarchical social relationships that stem from them. They are
ada-mant white supremacists who call for, at best, a separate (but
unequal) white society and, at worst, the full extermination of people
who are identified as ‘‘non-white’’ (Dobratz and Shanks-Meile 2000;
Ezekiel 1995; Kimmel and Ferber 2000; Ridgeway 1995).This position is in
many ways consistent with models of classical fascism that construct a
mythical community based on racial similarity and valorize the
importance of nation as defined by racial identity (Berlet 1992; Garner
1996; Lyons 1995; Passmore 2002).In addition to racial hierarchy,
contemporary fascists also believe in fundamental gender hierarchies and
differences. One of the key foci of modern fascist propaganda and
recruitment is the defense of patriarchal gender relations. Women in the
movement are actively encouraged to have children as a duty to the
movement. In addition, the maternal identity of white women is also
applied to their relationship with men in the movement. White women are
encouraged to nurture men in the movement, to provide for their daily
well-being, to nurse them back to health when they are hurt in racial
attacks, and to support them when they are imprisoned. Race and gender
are often conflated to construct white women as victims of sexual
predation at the hands of non-whites (Castle 2012; Daniels 1997; Ferber
2000; Kimmel and Ferber 2000).Ironically, women are simultaneously
encouraged to take on active roles, including leadership positions, in
contemporary fascist movements. Women who have grown up internalizing
feminist values of autonomy find space within the movement to express
their personal desires for power and control over their lives through
expressions of power and control over the lives of racial and ethnic
minorities (Blee 2002; Ezekiel 1995).Women who are recruited into the
movement are given opportunities to establish themselves as formal and
informal leaders through participation in social movement activity. In
addition, participation in rallies and engagement in acts of racial
violence serve to give female fascists a sense of self-efficacy and
empowerment (Blee 2002; Ezekiel 1995). This is especially true for women
who participate in racist skinhead groups that celebrate strength and
the use of violence as an end in itself (Bowen 2009; Hamm 1993).By
appealing to certain feminist sensibilities while retaining a
patriarchal ideology, the white supremacist movement can present a safe
space for women to simultaneously be strong leaders and continue to hold
on to ‘‘traditional’’ beliefs about gender identity (Blee 2002; Castle
2012). Beliefs regarding race and gender among contemporary fascists
draw direct links to traditional fascist ideology while adapting to
contemporary sensibilities regarding gender identity.
Contemporary fascist ideology retains much of traditional fascism’s
populist critique. Fascist movements construct themselves as
‘‘revolutionary’’ movements who oppose existing elites. These movements,
however, simultaneously scapegoat underprivileged groups such as racial
minorities and the poor. Some aspects of both traditional and
contemporary fascist movements mimic concerns traditionally associated
with the progressive social movements. Fascists have traditionally
rallied workers around economic concerns and issues of job security
(Berlet 1992; Lyons 1995; Sommer 2008; Schlembach 2013), and the fascist
movement has even addressed ecological concerns by articulating an
ideological link between ‘‘the land’’ and racial identity (Biehl and
Staudenmaier 1995; Sommer 2008).The traditional fascist solution for
social problems lies in the hands of a strong leader who can replace
existing elites, suppress dissent from the underprivileged, and unite
the nation (Berlet 1992; Lyons 1995). Contemporary fascist movements
often do not adhere to this model of unwavering support for a central
state and charismatic leadership, and favor the development of
‘‘stateless… system of ethnically pure villages’’ (Sunshine 2008). This
ideological tendency in modern fascist movements is also critical of
globalization, capitalism, and totalitarian states (such as the old
Soviet Union). The recently articulated ‘‘Third Position’’ or ‘‘National
Anarchist’’ ideology, which posits itself as a rejection of left–right
dichotomies, promotes ‘‘racist communitarian[ism]’’ and racial democracy
as a political program (Berlet and Vysotsky 2006; Schlembach 2013;
Sunshine 2008).The ideological development of contemporary fascist
movements demonstrates a clear engagement with changing social realities
and political landscapes.
This ideological shift within the fascist movement is similar to the
post-materialist shift to ‘‘New Social Movements’’ found on the left in
recent decades (Schlembach 2013; Vysotsky and Dentice 2008). Organizing
and activism for the fascist movement has therefore also shifted from a
traditional political model based on building parties and organizations
to one that focuses on subcultural participation in the creation of
‘‘prefigurative space,’’ a social movement practice that involves the
creation of idealized social relations in social and physical spaces
outside of the control of formal authority[4] (Berlet and Vysotsky 2006;
Blazak 2001; Futrell and Simi 2004; Schlembach 2013; Vysotsky and
Dentice 2008).Since the late 1970s, fascist groups have strongly focused
on recruitment through participation in punk and skinhead subcultures,
which have significant subcultural overlap,[5] Because participants were
seen as particularly open and susceptible to the ideology of the
movement. Participants in these subcultures often experience a sense of
exclusion from normative society and social strain, which has been
exploited by fascists from inside and outside the subcultures as a means
of recruitment (Berlet and Vysotsky 2006; Blazak 2001; Hamm 1993). These
efforts, however, were largely unsuccessful because of the left-wing
ideological orientation of the subculture, which generated a popular
opposition (Goodyer 2003; Moore and Roberts 2009; Roberts and Moore
2009; Sarabia and Shriver 2004; Vysotsky 2013; Wood 1999). This popular
opposition has formed a decentralized anti-fascist movement that
organizes to confront, often violently, fascist participation in these
subcultures as part of a broader struggle for liberation and human
dignity.
As social movements evolve to address post-materialist concerns, they
place greater emphasis on identity construction through the creation of
culture and participation in subcultures (Buechler 2000; Jasper 1997;
Johnston, Laran˜a and Gusfeld 1994; Kriesi et al. 1995).Similarly,
scholars identify subcultural participation as a form of resistance to
dominant culture and as political action (e.g. Clarke et al. [1976]
2006; Ferrell 2001; Muggleton 2000). Subcultures, therefore, serve as
ideal ‘‘pre-figurative spaces’’ (Polletta 1999) wherein social movements
may experiment with creating social structures and conditions that
reflect their ideals. Punk rock has long been identified as one such
subculture because of its radical break from mainstream culture,
do-it-yourself ethic, and (often) anarchist ideology.
Punk entered mainstream consciousness in the late 1970s when the Sex
Pistols shocked the British press with their disturbing appearance,
inappropriate behaviors, foul language, and nihilistic anarchy—in
addition to their unprofessional, loud, and distorted music. And while
the Sex Pistols fifteen minutes of fame ended in early 1978, the
subculture that they were part of flourished because of its resistant
qualities and ideological orientation; ‘‘Punk had to die so that it
could live’’ (Clark 2003: 223). The subculture’s value of participation
over professionalism and the empty sloganeering of the Pistols’
‘‘anarchy’’ inspired a thriving underground which produced and
reproduced its own culture and stressed political activism[6] (Clark
2003; Culton and Holtzman 2010; Moore and Roberts 2009; Roberts and
Moore 2009).By rejecting mainstream institutions, punk subculture began
to serve as a pre-figurative space in which social movements could build
alternative structures consistent with their ideals (Cross 2010; Culton
and Holtzman 2010; Futrell and Simi 2004).
The early punks’ use of left-wing slogans and right-wing imagery drew
both political tendencies to the subculture. The first wave of punks
notoriously decorated their bodies and clothing with swastikas without
articulating a clear meaning or intent. Hebdige (1979) famously argued
that the punk use of the swastika was an ironic symbol of resistance
that reinterpreted it not as a marker of the wearer’s fascist
tendencies, but as a representation of the individual’s frustration with
social norms and ‘‘polite’’ society. Alternately, Cohen ([1980] 2009)
critiqued this analysis by pointing out that meaning was ascribed to the
swastika with little regard to the actual punks’ interpretations of its
usage. This ambiguity of meaning created a unique opportunity for
fascism to make in-roads into a distinctly oppositional subculture. As
Hamm (1993) points out, the subculture’s nihilism and acceptance of
violence presented an ideal recruiting ground for the fascist movement.
Neo-Nazis viewed punk alienation as a key issue that they could exploit
to build an active and aggressive movement. Punk’s embrace of the
shocking and offensive allowed fascist recruiters to frame their
movement as a radical rejection of mainstream values. Despite such
efforts, the subculture is primarily defined by its left-wing, anarchist
orientation. Most punks embraced the anarchist stance of the
subculture’s pioneers and explored the ideology behind the slogans.
Anarchist punks summarily rejected the mainstream music industry, media,
and fashion in favor of developing their own do-it-yourself, underground
institutions for the production and dissemination of music, magazines,
and clothing. These practices allowed anarchist punks to build their own
network outside of existing capitalist structures based on anarchist
principles of egalitarianism and cooperation (Clark 2003; Cross 2010;
Culton and Holtzman 2010).Punk sloganeering quickly manifested in direct
action in opposition to nuclear proliferation, animal abuse, racism,
sexism, and virtually any other manifestation of dominant power. Thus,
punks have been at the core of political protest movements since late
1970s (see Bobel 2006; Cherry 2006; Cross 2010; Culton 2007; Dymock
2007; Ferrell 2001; Hardman 2007; Moore and Roberts 2009; O’Hara 2001;
Ranaghan and Breese 2004; Roberts and Moore 2009; Ruggero 2010; Wiedlack
2013).The combination of a do-it-yourself ethic and a value of political
activism has made punk an ideal subculture for the pre-figurative
experiments of both fascist and anarchist movements (Culton and Holtzman
2010; Futrell and Simi 2004).
With two conflicting political ideologies operating within the same
subculture, punk rock quickly becomes a space of contention between
them. Anarchist punks lay claim to the authenticity of punk identity
because so much of the subculture’s practice reflects their ideology as
noted above, yet fascists and neo-Nazis participate in the subculture
out of an appreciation for the music and style as well as its utility in
recruiting confederates. This presents a unique dilemma for most punks
who abhor fascism: how do they maintain the ideological integrity of the
subculture and its function as a left-wing/anarchist pre-figurative
space when fascists insist on inserting themselves into it? A second
dilemma is presented when fascist participation in the subculture
results in excessive amounts of violence. The combination of neo-Nazi
ideology and expressive machismo often leads fascists to attack
attendees at punk shows whom they view as violating the racial or gender
purity of the space/‘‘scene’’ (Blazak 2001; Bowen 2009). Using anarchist
principles, punks often self-organize in order to defend themselves and
the subculture against the presence of fascists and the violence that
they bring. Consistent with New Social Movement practice, defense of
subculture against fascists quickly extends into social movement
activity as anti-fascism moves out of the punk scene into militant
opposition to fascist organizing on all fronts. It is my contention that
this form of anti-fascist organizing serves as a form of policing based
on anarchist principles.
Subculturally oriented social movements, such as anti-fascism, are
easily misinterpreted by outside observers. In order to truly understand
the clash between fascists and anti-fascists, a researcher must develop
a criminological verstehen (Ferrell 1997) of the actions and motivations
of the individuals involved. Over the course of 7 years, I conducted an
ethnographic study of militant anti-fascist organizations. This research
was conducted in two phases in 2001–2005 in an Eastern U.S. city and
2007–2010 in a Western U.S. city. As a participant observer, I attended
confrontational and non-confrontational protests against white
supremacist groups, one regional and two national gatherings of militant
anti-fascists, as well as numerous social events including, but not
limited to, Punk, Oi!, and Hardcore shows, DJ nights, film screenings,
house parties, and informal gatherings in bars and other social spaces
associated with punk and skinhead subculture.
In addition to observation, formal interviews were conducted with 14
individuals in key organizing positions within the militant anti-fascist
movement. Because of the difficulties in estimating the population of
anti-fascist activists, a probability sample was unattainable.
In order to obtain a national sample of participants, the formal
interviews were conducted in one eastern city, one mid-western city, and
two western cities. The formal interview process began with the
participant answering a series of survey questions that was followed by
a semi-structured interview. In addition to the formal interviews,
informal interviews were conducted as part of the participant
observation process with 30 additional individuals involved in militant
opposition to supremacists. Interviews were conducted with anti-fascist
activists who reside in all regions of the United States.
Militant anti-fascism as can best be understood as an anarchist practice
using case examples derived from the data gathered in the observations
and interviews described above. The examples that follow will serve as
typical instances of anti-fascist confrontation with fascists which were
observed over the period of ethnographic research and recounted in both
formal and informal interviews. Because anti-fascist activism is an
especially dangerous activity (see Vysotsky 2013), specific details such
as locations and dates have been eliminated in order to protect the
anonymity and safety of participants.
For most people, the conflict between fascists and anti-fascists is
evident only on the rare occasion of public events where the two clash.
The everyday struggle between the two movements that occurs in
pre-figurative spaces is unseen by individuals outside of the
subculture, but constitutes an ‘‘invisible revolution’’ (Peterson 2001)
being fought in underground social spaces. Confrontation, and sometimes
violence, is employed in order to protect pre-figurative subcultural
spaces from the political and physical threats posed by fascists
(Vysotsky 2013); anti-fascists ensure this protection through two types
of action: preventative action and direct confrontation.
The most common type of anti-fascist action in pre-figurative spaces
takes the form of preventative action or preparation for confrontation
with fascists. This typically involves the gathering of individuals
committed to confronting supremacists should they arrive at a space
and/or patrol around or near the space. This is a defensive action taken
when threats have been made against either the space or individuals who
are known to be there. For example, individuals who attended a regional
gathering of anti-fascists were asked by organizers of a local punk show
to be present in the event that fascists arrived to violently disrupt
it. Antifascist activists spent the evening inside the venue and the
adjacent parking lot in the event supremacists would arrive. Similarly,
a ska music DJ night that served as a regular gathering of anti-racist
skinheads and anti-fascist activists typically included individuals who
served as security beyond that provided by the bar because the event had
been a target of supremacist violence in the past. Anti-fascists
maintained a clear presence outside the venue as a visual show of force
to indicate that any attempts at violence would be resisted. In such
cases this type of presence serves to dissuade fascist participation in
subcultural pre-figurative spaces because they find themselves facing
mass opposition.
Fascist violence typically occurs in subcultural spaces when they have
significant numeric or physical superiority to intimidate attendees
(Blazak 2001; Bowen 2009). By amassing a clear, confrontational
anti-fascist presence, spaces become distinctly delineated as
un-hospitable to fascist participation or intimidation.
A similar defensive practice is also employed when fascists threaten
individual activists or subcultural participants. It is not unusual for
anti-fascists to be asked or volunteer to gather at the home of an
individual who is being threatened by supremacists. For example, an
activist who was not affiliated with an organized anti-fascist group,
but filmed an anti-racist rally organized by the group and posted it on
YouTube, was targeted by a group of fascists attempting to ‘‘out’’
anti-fascists as a form of intimidation. Flyers were posted in his
neighborhood identifying him as an ‘‘anti-white’’ activist signaled a
potential threat to his safety and that of his household. Because the
fascists in this city had a history of violence, including attacks on
the homes of people identified as anti-fascists, this activist called
upon the anti-fascist organization in his community to provide
protection for him in the event that his home was attacked. The
anti-fascist group organized a series of protective actions designed to
dissuade potential fascist violence including maintaining a presence
inside and outside his home, surveillance of the block on which the home
was located, and patrols of several blocks surrounding the home. These
types of activities serve as a typical response in the immediate
aftermath of credible threats or incidents of fascist violence against
individuals or households. In general, these gatherings serve not only
as a demonstration of a show of force against the potential fascist
threat, but also give the threatened individual a sense that he/she is
genuinely being protected. In most cases, police are unable to provide
the kind of protection necessary to dissuade the threat of fascist
violence. In the case above, the flyer would not serve as a direct
threat that justifies a protective detail, yet interview subjects
consistently noted that these tactics were a common form of intimidation
and a precursor to violence. Moreover, if a fascist attack does occur,
police response is after the fact and involves a criminal investigation.
When the victims are fellow subculturalists, police investigation often
reduces the incident to gang violence and is accompanied by a
victim-blaming attitude that does not signal a sense that justice will
be served to anti-fascists. A militant anti-fascist response, therefore,
not only serves to reassure the threatened party that it is protected,
but also provides direct response to a threat that may not be
appropriately handled by the state and legal institutions.
In most cases, the type of mass gathering described above is
supplemented by small groups of anti-fascists who patrol the immediate
area in search of potential fascist threats.
This practice expands the sphere of protection beyond the immediate
location under threat and can serve as a means of avoiding violence and
confrontation at the threatened site.
Anti-fascists deploy this tactic in a variety of circumstances. In some
cases, these patrols may be part of a defensive action against an
individual or they may focus on a venue that has a likelihood of fascist
targeting, as noted in examples above. Anti-fascists deployed the
patrolling strategy at the rally filmed by the activist who called upon
their protection discussed above. This rally was organized by
anti-fascists in response to a national gathering of fascists in their
city. The potential for a large number of fascists in the community
presented a unique threat to the attendees of the mass rally. In order
to provide security, anti-fascists established teams of activists who
patrolled the perimeter of the park in which the rally was held in the
event that fascists would attempt to disrupt the rally with violence or
confrontation. If fascists were spotted in the vicinity, individuals
engaging in a patrol would be able to inform other activists. This type
of action allows activists engaging in defensive presence at a site to
prepare for a potential confrontation.
In many circumstances, anti-fascists can also choose to confront the
fascist located on patrol before they reach the site. This moves the
conflict onto the street and therefore serves to shield the venue or
individuals under threat. In addition, such patrols serve as a signal to
any fascists who may have plans to attend an event or attack an
individual that a resistant force has been organized, and that they will
be confronted and stopped. These patrols, therefore, serve to enhance
the effectiveness of defensive mass gathering.
The actions discussed so far generally serve to avoid or prevent
violence and confrontation. What categorizes them as militant is the
implicit conflict that would occur should fascists arrive and challenge
the safety of the space or individuals. The anti-fascism discussed in
this article is truly made militant by its confrontational aspect.
Unlike the defensive and preventative actions described above, clashes
between fascists and anti-fascists generally have a much more
spontaneous quality to them. These typically occur when fascists enter,
or are present, in subcultural pre-figurative spaces. As stated above,
fascists and anti-fascists often find themselves involved in similar
subcultures, and because the fascists threaten both the ideological
orientation of the subculture and the physical safety of its
participants (Blazak 2001; Bowen 2009; Vysotsky 2013), they often
represent an unwelcome presence in these spaces. Contemporary fascist
subculturalists are in part motivated by an ideology of ‘‘fuck you-ism’’
blended with virulent racism (Hamm 1993: 28), which motivates an
offensive oppositionalism even in subcultural spaces. Put simply, they
do not leave when they are made to feel unwelcome or asked politely to
do so; therefore, it becomes incumbent on the anti-fascists to motivate
them to leave a space where they are unwelcome and/or pose a threat.
This generally occurs through a process of escalation. Fascists are
first aggressively confronted about their presence and ordered to leave
by large group of people (in many cases, the entirety of the venue). If
fascists do not leave when confronted, force is often used to eject them
from the space, either in the form of physical removal or through a
violent clash between them and anti-fascists.
The confrontational and violent tactics being employed here are
interpreted and understood by participants in the subculture as being
defensive. They are deployed against individuals who, by virtue of their
ideology, represent a threat to the subculture as a whole, and the
individual participants within it, and who do not respond positively or
affirmatively to nonconfrontational tactics or attempts at
de-escalation. In this regard, confrontation and violence are successful
in that they remove the immediate threat and secure the safety of the
space in subcultural participants.
The actions discussed in this article represent a controversial approach
to maintaining the safety of individuals, the integrity of a social
space, and the ideological orientation of a subculture. For most
criminologists, criminal justice professionals, and the general public,
the confrontation and violence described represent either gang violence
or vigilantism. For some anarchists and other radicals—including
criminologists—the violent use of force is antithetical to their belief
system.[7] Yet I argue that these methods represent a challenge to the
pacifist orientation of anarchist criminology by situating these actions
within some of the basic tenets of anarchism: spontaneous action, direct
democracy, and direct action.
Anarchism has a history of arguing for spontaneity as an alternative to
the rigidity of life constrained by institutions such as the family,
religion, the state, and work (Ferrell 2001).
Anarchist criminology, similarly, argues for not only the redefinition
of spontaneous lawbreaking (Ferrell 1998), but also spontaneous action
in defense of the collective and social order (Ferrell 2011; Niman
2011). The confrontational and violent actions described above are
consistent with the spirit of spontaneity. Such confrontations are
generally not preplanned or organized because in many cases the fascists
enter a space without the prior knowledge of organizers or other
participants, often with the desire to engage in violence (Blazak, 2001;
Bowen 2009).Under such circumstances, resistance to the fascists is
spontaneously organized by individuals committed to anti-fascism. These
individuals make on the spot decisions regarding the most effective and
appropriate tactics for ensuring safety and order. Such spontaneity
ensures that one individual or group does not necessarily hold power in
these situations because anyone can organize and/or take part in such a
confrontation.[8] Power is also decentralized because it is deployed
temporarily rather than being asserted through a social institution. The
individuals acting against the fascist threat have no power beyond the
immediate situation, and any attempt to assert additional forms of power
or control would be resisted by members of the subculture and even their
anti-fascist compatriots.
Unlike a professional police force, which requires specialized training,
certification and a rigid hierarchy, militant anti-fascism is directly
democratic. Much like the processes of ‘‘Omming’’ and ‘‘corking’’
(Ferrell 2011; Niman 2011), anti-fascist actions are open to anyone
willing to participate. The spontaneous confrontations described above
by their very nature are inclusive of all people who wish to confront
the fascist presence in the space. The more organized actions required
for securing a space or providing protection for individuals being
threatened by fascists are often equally democratic based on the
decision making processes of the groups involved. Organized anti-fascist
groups tend to be less open in terms of membership for reasons of
security as a result of threats from fascists and police, but their
internal decision-making processes reflect anarchist principles of
non-hierarchy and direct democracy. Anti-fascists have no formal
leadership, with decisions being made by the group as a whole. This is
true both of small, local groupings and larger regional and national
bodies. The decision-making processes reflect anarchist practices by
striving for consensus and/or requiring super-majorities for
ratification. Individuals are always free to dissent or not participate
in actions with few consequences.
Finally, and most importantly, anti-fascist militancy represents a form
of direct action against the threat posed by fascists. Rather than
relying on the state, anti-fascists self-organize for their security
because they generally have distrust for the state, and specifi-cally,
the criminal justice system embodied in police and courts (ARA 2004a),
born from their adherence to anarchist ideology and their subcultural
experience. From a practical standpoint, police are unreliable for
providing security when a conflict arises with fascists over a
subcultural space. Because their interest lies in protecting public
order, police will at best escort fascists away from the area and at
worst arrest anti-fascists. As anarchists, anti-fascists are unlikely to
call police on principle since they represent the state and an arbitrary
display of power. Anti-fascism, therefore, serves as a means for
participants in a subculture influenced by anarchism to self-organize
for their own security. This represents a unique form of direct action
in that it not only rejects the state’s legitimate claim on violence,
but it also prefigures a model of community safety and self-defense in a
society without police.
The anti-fascist practices outlined in this article represent a major
break from and contribution to anarchist criminological theory. Much of
the work in this theoretical tradition has been focused on presenting a
critique of dominant understandings of law and order (Ferrell 1998;
Pepinsky 1978; Tifft 1979) without presenting alternative models.
When such alternatives have been theorized or proposed, they have
generally been rooted in pacifist and nonviolent practice. Anarchist
theories of restorative justice use nonviolent, non-hierarchical
practices after violations have occurred (Brisman 2011; Pepinsky and
Quinney 1991; Tifft and Sullivan 1980). The work on proactive anarchist
responses to questions of public safety and order has largely focused on
movements and subcultures where individuals share ideologies and goals
(Ferrell 2011; Niman 2011).This article posits that there may be
confrontational, even violent, forms of action that can be taken to
ensure safety and order that are consistent with anarchist principles.
In such cases, these actions are taken by groups who identify as—or are
influenced by—anarchists, and reflect the practices of spontaneity,
direct democracy, and direct action. While such actions may not be
ideally anarchist or serve as an ideal alternative to contemporary
policing, they can serve to initiate a discussion of what a proactive
anarchist, or alternative, practice of community self-defense should
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[1] On the surface, the practices described above would seem to meet
Johnston’s (1996) criminological criteria for vigilantism—planning,
premeditation, and organization; private voluntary agency; autonomous
citizenship; the use or threatened use of force; reaction to crime and
social deviance; and personal and collective security. Yet, it is the
ideological character of anti-fascism that transforms it into a
prefigurative practice rather than an act of vigilantism. The central
theme of this article is that anti-fascist militancy is in itself a
political act. By rejecting the legitimacy of police and existing law,
anti-fascists in effect become public agents acting in the interest of a
population that intentionally posits itself outside of the control of
official avenues of legal redress. Furthermore, militant anti-fascism is
responding directly to political rather than normative threat posed by
fascists (Vysotsky 2013). Fascist participation in subcultures, and by
extension public life, is viewed as threatening not because it is a
stigmatized social identity that reflects non-normative values (Simi and
Futrell 2009), but due to the ideological position it represents.
Fascists actively participate in subcultures as a means of recruitment
to their ideological position (Blazak 2001). It is therefore incumbent
upon other subculturalists to develop solutions to the threat posed by
fascists in a manner that is consistent with their anarchist or
anti-authoritarian ideological position. As such the conflict between
fascists and anti-fascists is a political, rather than normative or
vigilante, struggle.
[2] This vision of informal and spontaneous processes of dispute
resolution is consistent with anthropological observations of similar
practices in cross-cultural contexts. Informal and extra-legal process
of dispute resolution are often invoked in place of formal legal
structures because the former are viewed as authen-tically indigenous
and designed to maintain harmony in the community as opposed to the
latter, which are externally imposed and threaten community autonomy and
values (see Barclay 1990; Engel 1984; Moore 1989; Nader 1989; Ruffini
1978).
[3] Fascist ideology places extreme significance on the importance of
the nation and national identity. Such hyper-nationalism is often linked
to a strong racial identity and informs the racism of fascist movements
(Berlet 1992; Garner 1996; Lyons 1995; Passmore 2002). Since the Second
World War, however, fascist ideology has spread beyond its European
origins to nations where racial identities and dividing lines are not as
concrete as those of early twentieth century Europe. Throughout the
post-war period, fascist movements developed in Latin America which
stressed class fealty and national identity over racial purity (Chomsky
and Herman 1979). The spread of fascist ideology through subculture
since the 1970s has also generated fascist movements in parts of Asia,
most notably in Japan and Malaysia (Chester 2013). In general, it is
important to note that fascist movements promote the supremacy of men,
heterosexuals, and other ‘‘traditional’’ forms of hierarchy in addition
to concepts of racial superiority, and that such concepts are not
necessarily intrinsically tied to race.
[4] The concept of prefigurative space was developed by Polletta (1999)
to describe the practices of left-wing ‘‘new social movements’’ that
stressed shifts in lifestyle consistent with ideological goals of
freedom as well as economic, political, and social equality.
Prefigurative spaces allow such practices to occur outside of the
control and constraints of conventional society. By giving movement
members a space in which to experiment with ideologically oriented
social projects, such spaces allow movements to develop a practical
operationalization of their ideals. Recent research has identified the
use of prefigurative spaces and practices as universal elements of
contemporary social movements because they have been adopted by
right-wing extremist movements as well in order to reflect their
ideological goals of a racially pure society (see Futrell and Simi 2004;
Simi and Futrell 2010).
[5] While punk and skinhead nominally represent two distinct subcultures
with unique histories and styles, there is significant overlap and
crossover to such an extent that skinheads often represent as subset of
a broader punk subculture. This is due to the unique cultural history of
the skinheads. The subculture originated in the working class
communities of the U.K. in the late 1960s as white working class youth
adopted the style and musical tastes of Jamaican immigrant ‘‘Rude
Boys.’’ Early skinheads fused Rude Boy and Mod styles of fitted suits
and designer clothing with working class elements such as denim jeans
and Doc Marten work boots. The subculture was also defined by an
appreciation of Jamaican Ska music. By the 1970s, skinhead subculture
demonstrated extreme working class values including a distaste for
authority, extreme nationalism, and the exaltation of violence. The
taste for Ska music was supplemented by English pub rock which would
serve as an inroad to punk subculture. When punk first appeared as a
subculture, skinheads were drawn to its raw musical style and violent
styles of dancing. During punk’s ‘‘first wave,’’ English pub rock bands
like Slaughter and the Dogs drew skinheads to punk shows, while punk
bands like Sham 69 pioneered the ‘‘Oi!’’ sub-genre of punk rock often
associated with skinhead subculture. In the United States, ‘‘hardcore’’
punk often took its inspiration from the violence and aggression of
skinheads who were a common element of the punk scene. By the late 1970s
and early 1980s, skinheads had become a regular feature within punk
scenes and co-mingled with punks to such a degree that the former were
generally considered a sect of the latter. These interactions also
generated conflicts as skinheads often exhibited more conservative
attitudes than punks and were more prone to aggressive behavior and
extreme violence at punk shows. Schisms in the skinhead scene also
informed their acceptance into the punk scene with non-racist and
anti-racist skinheads often being more welcome into the more radical
punk community than outright neo-Nazis, racists, and more conservative
factions—including nominally anti-fascist skinheads who exhibited
sexism, homophobia, or extreme nationalism. For detailed histories of
skinhead subculture see Marshall (1994), Schweizer and Greutert (2003),
and Travis and Hardy (2012).
[6] The authenticity of the political orientation of the ‘‘first wave’’
punk bands of the 1976–1978 era is a major controversy in the
subculture. In contrast to the ‘‘second wave’’ of 1978–1984/86 and
subsequent iterations, the radical politics of the first wave were
largely stylistic and rhetorical. While Greil Marcus (1990), among
others, has made the claim that Sex Pistols music and Malcolm McLaren’s
fashion are linked to anarchism and inspired by the Situationist
International, his assertions have been critiqued as ‘‘attempting to
ascribe a conscious political strategy to the Pistols’ work where none
existed, and… mimicing [sic] Malcolm McLaren’s own efforts to invent an
‘intentional’ history of punk’’ (Cross 2010: 3–4). The Sex Pistols’
‘‘anarchy’’ was a fervent individualist oppositionalism that is more
akin to the philosophy of nihilism than variations on anarchism (Savage
1992). The Situationist slogans featured on McLaren and Westwood’s punk
clothing and the more ideologically oriented lyrics of bands like the
Clash were rarely reflected in social movement participation on the part
of the early punks (Cross 2010).This stands in sharp contrast to
subsequent punk bands and scenes which stressed social action both
within and outside of the punk scene (Clark 2003; Cross 2010; Culton and
Holtzman 2010; Moore and Roberts 2009; O’Hara 2001; Roberts and Moore
2009).While such activism has often been associated with the more
politicized ‘‘peace punk’’ or ‘‘anarchopunk’’ sub-sets of the
subculture, its influence has extended into the subculture as a whole
and informed its oppositional stances in regard to many elements of
mainstream society (Cross 2010; O’Hara 2001).
[7] The question of the use of violence as a tactic has been extremely
controversial in anarchist circles. Anarchists in the late
nineteenth-century became notorious for the practice of ‘‘propaganda by
the deed’’— the use of bombings and assassinations as a means of
challenging state and capitalist oppression (Avrich 1988; Guerin 1970).
Yet, in the same era, a pacifist tradition of anarchist thought was
articulated by Tolstoy, among others (Avrich [1967] 2006; Ostergaard
1982). These traditions continue to this day, with some anarchist
factions repudiating violence while others incorporate it into a broad
tactical repertoire (see Juris 2005; Paris 2003; Richards 1993).
[8] The concepts of spontaneity and organization are not contradictory
in anarchist praxis. Anarchist philosophy is largely predicated on the
cooperative actions of individuals working collectively to achieve their
goals (Berkman [1929] 2003; Ferrell 2001; Kropotkin 1904).These
organizations lack formal hierarchy and are often open to anyone wishing
to become involved which allows them to act spontaneously rather than
following strict bureaucratic procedures (Ferrell 2001).In such cases,
long-standing anarchist organizations are not bound by formal rules or
traditions and can respond in any manner chosen by the plurality of
members. It is also possible for new groupings to form based on this
principle of spontaneity depending on the context of the situation. In
either case, anarchists are able to be simultaneously organized and
engage in spontaneous action.