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Title: Anarchy Versus Hierarchy Author: Thomas Pulliam Date: 03/20/2022 Language: en Topics: Insurrection, post-left, anti-state, anarchism, critical self-theory, mutual aid, affinity, introduction Source: https://attackthesystem.com/2022/03/20/anarchy-versus-hierarchy/
ANARCHY VERSUS HIERARCHY
By Thomas Pulliam
âThrow away holiness and wisdom, and people will be a hundred times
happier. Throw away morality and justice, and people will do the right
thing. Throw away industry and profit, and there wonât be any thieves.â
â Tao te Ching, Chapter 19
Moving forward is impossible unless we learn each other's language. In
spite of all our similarities, all our shared wants and concerns,
misunderstanding convinces us we are alone. Emma Goldman wrote, "Someone
has said that it requires less mental effort to condemn than to think.
The widespread mental indolence, so prevalent in society, proves this to
be only too true." Words with multiple associations that change
drastically according to context, group, and settingâlike anarchy,
communism, etc.âcontribute to this discord. When most people hear
"anarchy", they will often imagine violence and refuse to listen. This
hostility frustrates the anarchist, who views it in terms of
cooperative, horizontal living.
Even in a movement as broad as the anarchists, the most common agreement
you will find is that anarchism in general would be more popular if its
language wasnât so tragically misunderstood. For centuries anarchist
voices have struggled to correct their negative imageâthey have not
struggled in vain, but there is a lot of slander to battle, and much
more unclear rhetoric and outdated theory. I felt the need to make my
own contribution with this project. This is not an attempt to promote a
fixed program or philosophyâto do more than casually borrow ideas for
yourself is missing the point. Further, there is not a single person who
can speak outside the limited environments that shaped them.
It is important to consider the stories that shape a conscious anarchist
perspective. Since anarchy brings many aspects of humanity to light,
there is no single path to it or unlearning the lessons of statism. My
own story began before I was born; every recent generation on my
motherâs motherâs side embraced an alegal and free-spirited outlook. My
great grandfather was a spiritual vagabond who married a second
generation German-American known for her crudeness, wild nature, and
iconoclasm. They and their children traveled the West, living out of
vehicles in mining towns, campgrounds, and reservations, stealing and
working odd jobs to survive. Living in poverty, they learned to value
quality over quantity and distrust institutions. Law wasnât sacred,
money and nations werenât sacred; wealth was derived from love, freedom,
and adventure, with passionate contempt for everything which mediated
and prevented such treasures. These sentiments were passed down to me.
My childhood was spent in the Boise area and Council Valley in Idaho. In
Boise, my sister, mother, and I lived out of a dirty broken-down house,
which by the summer of 2012 transformed into a hostel for borderline
homeless punk rockers. People called us âthe Dustbinââcoined by the
psychedelic punk band Mind Drips, who performed there one summerâor
âDirty-6thâ because of our location on 36th street. Over a dozen dirty
teenagers crashed there at one point. Most of them were friends with my
older sister, others were strangers. Practically all of them were
self-described anarchists.
The Dustbin operated on strong communal lines. Personal property existed
but needed resourcesâsuch as food and clothingâwere intuitively shared.
People associated through loose consensus and (unless you gave them a
good reason not to) everyone treated each other with respect. If you
were to ask those who lived there, they would describe the Dustbin as a
time of rebellion and fraternity. I would be lying if I said I didnât
romanticize it similarly. However, as a young teenager, I was not able
to experience it quite the same way. To some extent, it robbed me of
security at a time when I needed it. Chaos filled the house, and our
mother's depression kept her from being fully present most of the time.
On the other hand, I was provided a great deal of freedom for someone my
age. I could leave the house at any time and roam freely. When people
spoke to me they treated me like an adult. Things this simple taught me
how to handle and appreciate independence. That which threatened my
personal autonomy and ability to experience became a lifelong concern.
The values expressed during the Dustbin became a significant part of my
upbringing. The general contempt for materialism, religion, and
hierarchy appealed to me. Bob! Loudly, Day the Racoon, Fox and Mogliâthe
revolutionary bard, the melancholic leader, the peacemakersâthese were
the main figures of Dirty-6th, hidden icons of Boiseâs growing
anti-establishment counter-culture. It was heavily influenced by the
punk community. A popular soundtrack from this time came from a CD
gifted to us by an old train-hopper. It featured songs by various
well-known anarcho-punk groups such as Ramshackle Glory, Days N' Daze,
Mischief Brew and others. They covered a range of topics including
homelessness, train-hopping, insurrection, nihilism, the spectacle, and
especially anarchism. It would take years before I understood anarchy as
a developed philosophy. Regardless, I began to associate the word with
feelings of angst and alienation in an imposing society.
Some religious encounters throughout my life contributed to an
anarchistic worldview. Although my family was highly secular, we
occasionally attended Friends meetings before I was twelve. I have
always admired the Quakers' individualistic, non-hierarchical, and
non-dogmatic way of worshiping and congregating. While most churches I
knew involved some leader-figure preaching threats and instructing you
how to think, Quakers would sit silently in a circle and look
introspectively for answers. Nobody could tell you how to worship and
there was a lot of emphasis on developing a personal relationship with
the god inside yourself. This was done as a sovereign individual in the
company of your own, without the obstruction and undeserved authority of
priests, pastors, or bishops.
At the age of fourteen, I moved north to Council Valley to live with my
hippie grandmother. Council, Idaho is one of those tiny, anti-social and
impoverished towns where organized religion and alcohol are the most
booming industries, and the only pastimes besides drinking are gossip
and hate. The main source of excitement for folks under 21 was therefore
limited to a lifestyle of delinquency. My relationship with the local
sheriff's office turned antagonistic over the years. Bored, brutish
bastards, their ranks consisted of officers who relocated from
neighboring states for behavioral problems.
Like most police, they did not care about your concerns or want to help
you. Their under-stimulation, sense of elitism, statist morality, and
unchallenged authority led them to act aggressively and abuse locals.
Just months before I arrived, two deputies murdered the rancher Jack
Yantis. My mother moved to the area soon after and became an organizer
with the Justice for Jack campaign, calling for police accountability.
Not reform or abolition, just accountability. This branded our family
permanent enemies to the department, who ended up harassing us for
years. The swine grew to hate me especially because of my trouble-making
and open disrespect towards them. They would circle our block, enter our
home without warrants, and stop me nearly every time we crossed paths. I
would find ways to return the favor: targeted vandalism, trespassing,
resisting arrest, and on one occasion stealing a bulletproof vest and
ammo out of a police shed. Mostly this was to alleviate my existential
boredom, but there was always an unconscious political motive.
In my mind, the police were nothing more than a gang of kidnappers whose
actions could not be vindicated by any empty talk of justice. Both the
department and the institutions they enforced were intrusive and fake.
Council officers knew nothing about their victims or the laws they
enforced, yet they were given every privilege at the communityâs
expense. Retaliation became a matter of self-sovereignty;
self-sovereignty was already a matter of protecting reality, of
protecting my ownness. I could either submit and settle for an insecure
way of living or learn to assert every ounce of myself against them.
School also had an impact on me. Besides teaching me basic knowledge
such as reading and writing, it was little more than a long series of
embarrassment and spirit-crushing assimilation. The anti-social effects
of our education system were worse in the city. At least in my own
personal experience, small towns preserve a lot of our innate
communitarian instincts, which is especially the case when poverty
reinforces barter and mutual aid. I saw a strong closeness and
solidarity among the students. The town was small, so for good or ill
everyone knew each other. Students led anti-bullying campaigns and local
projects with or without the involvement of the school. On the other
hand, the school board was extremely low-budgeted and the faculty
consisted of clueless authoritarians.
I have always thrived in environments where Iâm left to manage myself
without authority figures breathing down my neck. Meanwhile, the U.S.
education system goes to great lengths to suppress natural curiosity and
promote a logic of submission. Like so many other generations, I was
prevented from pursuing my interests and efficiently developing as a
person while forced to accept propaganda against my own terms.
It wasnât a place to grow, but a place to be molded into a passive
drone, an institution bastardized by arbitrary practices in the name of
spreading arbitrary beliefs with little concern for individuality,
growth, or truth. Stand up for the special flag and never for yourself,
tell us why America is a harbinger of liberty and goodness. I resisted
everything I disagreed with and many teachersâranging from racist
Mormons to underprepared ex-students with more concern for their growing
university debtsâgrew to hate me. In retrospect, I probably would have
preferred something similar to Spanish anarchist Francisco Ferrerâs
model, where the classroom is structured horizontally and inquiry,
skepticism, and free agency is encouraged. It became clear that the
institution was a waste of time and I had to take responsibility for my
own education. At sixteen, I finally dropped out.
Writing constantly was the easiest and most effective way to
self-educate. I would research topicsâmainly theology, politics, ethics,
and historyâand type out essays accordingly. Some days I would get
stoned and write dozens of pages just for fun. Within one year I learned
more than in my entire public school experience. It was only a matter of
time before I considered writing professionally. Not long before I
turned seventeen, I printed my first article with Adbusters, the
neo-Situationist magazine famously credited for sparking the Occupy Wall
Street movement. I became a regular follower of their work (at least as
much as I could), which pushed me even further in an anti-establishment
direction.
Around this same time, a series of events led me to a book that inspires
me to this dayâa copy of Anarchism and Other Essays by Emma Goldman in
worn DIY binding, given to me by my older sister when she visited from
Oregon. I instantly became fascinated by her work. Besides her sharp
language, what struck me most of all was her relevance. Initially I
thought she belonged to the radical movements of the '60s, '70s, and
early '80s. It showed me how anarchist thought is just as pertinent to
the human condition today as it was a century ago.
Appealing to my growing frustration with militarism, both conservatism
and liberalism, and the national idea in general, this stood out to me
in her 1908 speech on patriotism featured among the Other Essays: "We
Americans claim to be a peace-loving people. We hate bloodshed; we are
opposed to violence. Yet we go into spasms of joy over the possibility
of projecting dynamite bombs from flying machines upon helpless
citizens. We are ready to hang, electrocute, or lynch anyone, who, from
economic necessity, will risk his own life in the attempt upon that of
some industrial magnate. Yet our hearts swell with pride at the thought
that America is becoming the most powerful nation on earth, and that it
will eventually plant her iron foot on the necks of all other nations. .
. . Such is the logic of patriotism."
I saw her as an expert when it came to locating and dissecting problems
in our society. Her views on political alienation and the nature of
property and bureaucracy strongly resonated with me. At this time,
though, I thought anarchy went in a counterproductive direction. My
half-baked conviction was partly influenced by her definition of
anarchism as the philosophical advocacy against government, society, and
man-made law. This is true, but I still misinterpreted it. What came to
mind was opposition to all forms of association, whereas she clearly
meant opposition to administrative monopoly, self-annihilation of the
individual, and arbitrary means of maintaining order. I was still very
much using statist language and logic. The definition I followed for
government was basically any system of doing things, not a central body
of institutional power. As if it wasn't part of the point, I fell into
saying: âBut humans are inherently social, so we will always form
government.â
Itâs very possible that my early dismissal of anarchism and anarchy,
despite my positive encounters with it at a young age, was largely
rooted in an unconscious influence from my conservative environment
combined with a narrow understanding of the subject. I recall an
interaction I once had with a Council local. We were getting along well
until I innocently brought up the topic of anarchists, thinking back to
the Dustbin. I fell back in silent confusion when he suddenly became
dismissive. Why was it that he associated anarchy with violence and
apocalypse? Over time I considered anarchists well-meaning and
intelligent but unreal- istic. It took me a long time to realize that I
knew almost nothing about them.
I hadnât overcome the misconception that anarchism was chaos, the
absence of delegation and protocol. The highly functional social
libertarian societies in Catalonia and todayâs Rojava and rural Chiapas,
let alone how they ran, were unknown to me. I would need to know what it
might look like in practice before I could consider it and Goldman never
attempted to champion anarchism from that angle. She even explained why
she did this, saying she didnât believe anarchism could âconsistently
impose an iron-clad program or method on the future,â and that different
ideas were unique to different situations. Even though this is probably
the best stance, it still wasnât enough to convince me of anything. Now
I realize that she isnât a good introduction for some people, even if
sheâs perfect for others.
A few months after my eighteenth birthday, I had to choose between
staying in Council as a fiscal burden to my family or becoming homeless
with my sibling in Portland. I had no doubt about my decision. Iâd read
the Communist Manifesto by then and was curious about Marxism, so I was
excited to learn that Portland was a hub for activism and radical
thought. Spending my nights in a shelter, I surrounded myself with
eccentrics and street kid philosophers. Most of my evenings were spent
reading downtown, hopping transit as an advocate of the âNever Payâ
movement, stealing rations and alcohol to give to the homeless, and
wandering from drop-in to drop-in across the city. The experience was
similar to college, except with chronic exposure to stress, trauma, and
violence. One of my closest friends was a "neo-Luxemburgist" I met
through my older sister at shelter. She was concerned with showing me
new perspectives and theory. One day she gave me two books she found at
a shelter in Washington: a USSR-issued collection of V. I. Lenin and On
Anarchism by Noam Chomsky.
Beginning with Lenin because of his historical influence, it didnât take
long before his words triggered a reappraisal of what I initially saw in
Marxism. I already knew that Marxists consider state and often party
dictatorship legitimate forms of "social ownership" because they view
the state as a tool any class can use to manifest power over society.
According to Marxist theory, a socialist revolution can only exist in
the form of a state apparatus, which is supposed to âwither awayâ into
the communal ownership of resources (communism). This unavoidable
symbolic dictatorship is referred to as a dictatorship of the
proletariat. Classical Marxism is vague with its definition of the
state, so it has been interpreted as both grassroots and bureaucratic in
nature. Before my issues with Marxism developedâmainly its dogma, its
elitist views against "lumpenproletariat" and rural people, and its
pseudoscientific belief in material dialectics and a historical
endpointâI considered it synonymous with democracy and unionism.
Leninist ideologies, meanwhile, advocate party dictatorship meant to act
on behalf of the people in question. They believe that direct democracy
and decentralization is more prone to corruption than nationhood,
parties, and central hierarchyâplacing more faith in bureaucrats and
less in the intelligence of everyday people.
I could not understand how a group so against domination could resonate
with Leninâs ideas. In What is to be Done?, he asserted that workers are
incapable of self-liberation and needed to be led by a bourgeois
intelligentsia, âeducated representatives of the propertied classes.â In
Against Revisionism, he condemned unorthodoxy and free criticism,
treating his own ideas as sacred doctrine meant to replace all others.
Itâs true that Leninism and its variationsâcharacterized by centralism,
nationalization, and a Marxist vanguard partyâhave never inherently been
against certain principles like democracy. None of this matters, though,
when decisions must be approved by a totalitarian party whose
fundamental purpose is to limit popular power in the name of a strict
program. Even the vanguard organizational principle of democratic
centralism exists only to keep the minority in political power. Time and
time again, it has created organized violence that threatens the masses,
consistently undermining human needs, volition, and potential.
Political parties and central administration always end up creating
their own class, their own bourgeoisie, which tramples on the rights of
ordinary people. Even in labor, capitalist bosses are merely replaced by
bureaucrats, and workersâ unions often face the same level of hostility
as under capitalism. When you question Marxist-Leninists about these
problems, you see how they are often unable to differentiate between
society, individuals, and the state. Itâs confusing to them that whatâs
good for the state wouldnât automatically be good for the people.
Despite everything they believe about capitalism, they refuse to see how
hierarchical administration and ideological worship could produce
negative results. I began to understand a sentiment that Mikhail Bakunin
put like this: âWhen the people are being beaten with a stick, they are
not much happier if it is called âthe Peopleâs Stickâ.â
Though it wasn't immediate, much of my views as an anarchist is a direct
reaction to Marxist-Leninist dogma. On Anarchism was next on my list. I
already knew Chomsky as a social critic and linguist but didn't know he
was a self-defined anarchist. His introduction by Nathan Schneider was
nearly convincing enough on its own. It began by discussing Occupy and
its flirtation with anarchist principles, their use of consensus, and
how they came to adopt the word âhorizontalismâ in place of terms like
anarchy and socialism which had been rendered unusable by propaganda. I
was impressed by how Occupy and similar movements acknowledged the
distinction between hierarchy and leadership. This distinction had
already been made clear to me in my experience with grassroots activism.
There was mention of the spokes councils behind the 1999 anti-globalist
riots in Seattle: anarchist affinity groups from Oregon and Washington
who came together to devise a comprehensive plan against the World Trade
Organization (WTO) and other transnational institutions. Referred to as
the âBattle in Seattleâ, it helped popularize the anti-globalist and
anti-corporate ideas that dominate modern activity, as well as the black
bloc tactic still practiced by today's generation of actionists.
Schneider linked the mass âanarcho-amnesiaâ over the WTO-riots, Occupy,
and other major events to the particularly vehement crusade against
anti-state thought. Reading deeper, I discovered a clearer definition of
anarchism I thought sounded reasonable. Chomsky described it as the
belief that hierarchical institutions are not self-legitimized, and that
if hierarchical and coercive systems cannot justify their existence then
they should be dismantled and replaced with bottom-up alternatives. This
made me realize that there was more to anarchy than I thought.
Today my minimal definition of anarchism is the philosophical call for a
personal lifestyle and/or social order on the basis of autonomy,
quality, decentralization, and participation. For the individual, this
manifests as a connection with one's inner-authority, often accompanied
with the conscious desire for cooperation and allies. For the group, it
typically involves a network of directly democratic municipalities,
co-operatives, and autonomous spaces. Although individualists might
emphasize the self in this, or at least the individual-in-context, it's
uncommon for anarchists to see anarchy as anything but organized
non-hierarchy. Non-hierarchy is the uniting idea of anarchy.
While most anarchists share these common principles, motives and praxis
are unique to each person. It is generally said that anarchism splits
into individualist and social positions. Individualist anarchists tend
to place greater emphasis on autonomy while social anarchists emphasize
cooperation. The division between them is mostly false, though, and
ideas can be borrowed from all corners of thought. Community-planning
can co-exist with markets, etc; liberation from social forces and
liberation from antisocial forces are only two sides of the same
struggle for self-representation. If authority comes from the bottom to
a large enough degree, a marketplace of ideas combined with trial and
error can guide us towards where we need to be. And as a general
principle for adaptation and personal health, we should consider all
ideologies, philosophies, systems, etc., nothing more than tools for
individuals to use as they please. Acting otherwise is both dangerous
and unhelpful.
With the feeling I was taking a step in the right direction, I sought
out more perspectives on the subject. There are many worth mentioning,
but I was most moved by Petr Kropotkin, the egoist school, and the
communalists Abdullah Ăcalan and Murray Bookchin. Besides Goldman,
Kropotkinâs sociobiological book on mutual aid was the first classical
anarchist theory I read. It provided an articulate argument that our
natural state, especially when liberated from the shackles of hierarchy,
is a social one, and that solidarity can be a great source of
fulfillment, security, and freedom. He articulated the benefits of
empathy and mutual aid, not just in humans but the entire natural world,
and why incorporating it in social organization is complementary to the
human spirit. This was one of my favorite passages from the book, which
helped restore my faith in compassion:
âIt is not love to my neighborâwhom I often do not know at allâwhich
induces me to seize a pail of water and rush towards his house when I
see it on fire; it is a far wider, even though more vague feeling or
instinct of human solidarity or sociobility which moves me. It is not
love, and not even sympathy (understood in its proper sense) which
induces a herd of ruminants or of horses to form a ring in order to
resist an attack of wolves. . . . It is not love and not even sympathy
upon which society is based in mankind. It is the conscienceâbe it only
at the stage of an instinctâof human solidarity. It is the unconscious
recognition of the force that is borrowed by each man from the practice
of mutual aid; of the close dependence of every oneâs happiness upon the
happiness of all; and of the sense of justice, or equity which brings
the individual to consider the rights of every other individual as equal
to his own. Upon this broad and necessary foundation the still higher
moral feelings are developed."
The philosophical school of egoismâconcerned with the role of the self
and desire as a justifiable motive for oneâs actionsâprovided the
reminder that, mutual aid considered, we are still individuals. As
individuals, if we arenât acting for our own cause then weâre likely
acting for the cause of phantasms and the powerful. In this context,
egoist-anarchists advocate a âunion of egoistsâ, a horizontal,
mutually-beneficial, and voluntary form of association that may be
produced and reproduced around any given affinity. The distinguishing
point of this union is that its members cooperate together as self-owned
individuals, thinking indepen- dently from society, institutions,
capital, platforms, roles, and ideology.
This does not negate the role of love and altruism. As Wolfi
Landstreicher notes in Against the Logic of Submission, âit is only in
the realm of economyâof goods for saleâthat greed and generosity
contradict each other.â Iâd argue that strong community and
participative decision-making is necessary for the personal fulfillment
of every individual. It allows me to access my own environment, form
exciting relationships, and give according to my own volition.
Kropotkinâs theory on mutual aid and egoism are not contradicting. In
fact, they reinforce each other in terms of survival of the fittest. As
inherent individuals, self-preservation is our strongest instinct, and
throughout our evolution this instinct has been most successful with
solidarity. Likewise, we are not acting in our interests by mindlessly
destroying our environment or cheating our allies. It is arguably more
self-serving to routinely invest into others, to recognize our shared
affinities and respect certain boundaries. The egoist can allow amoral
compassion to illuminate their existenceâcompassion for the sake of the
egoist, not merely because "it's the moral thing to do."
People already make decisions with the hope that it will be right for
them, yet so many pursue their interests in the most roundabout ways
possible, reducing themselves to nothing as they fall into external
identities and grand narratives. âGoodâ and âevilâ, this ism or that
ism, whether applied to oneself or another group, are only arbitrary
constructs perpetuated by statist culture and institutions. In political
contexts, they have been used to keep people submissive, distracted, and
easy to mobilize against political enemies. This is not to say that
certain labels cannot have good ideas associated with them. The issue is
that we use them to replace our identity, turning to ingrained doctrine
instead of ourselves.
Conscious egoists thus reject moral and ideological thinking in favor of
critical self-theory, analyzing society from an individual perspective
and asserting control over their minds and bodies. We are considerably
less susceptible to manipulation when we recognize our uniqueness and
act according to what is right for us, not a political party, not a
belief system, not a nation-state. We should avoid identifying with
concepts intendedâat the best of timesâto help us navigate the objective
world. If they must be used at all, itâs healthier to view them as
tools. The best way to utilize an egoist approach is to eliminate the
other definition of ego: the lies we build around ourselves in psychic
defense against the world.
It took me months to reconnect with a natural egoist practice. Soon
after, I would use it as a tool for pursuing balance between the
individual and communityâmore accurately, cooperating with a group while
simultaneously avoiding dogma or living as property of the "collective"
(which is just a network of individuals). Obviously our social side is
undeniable. However egoistic, searching for ways to represent myself and
find security in a group remained a concern. The conclusion: the bridge
between our individuality and interconnectedness resided in direct
participation and the municipality. Whether my environment was
communistic, market-oriented, etc., was for the most part irrelevant so
long I was still able to represent myself in my environment by means of
assembly and consent.
In the meantime, there is nothing denying me my ownness, nothing except
me. By definition, anarchy is non-hierarchical association. Anarchism is
an idea, a longing for anarchy and the anarch. The anarch is to anarchy
what the monarch is to monarchy. It is ownness, it is recognizing
yourself before hierarchy, a lived anarchy. Before we achieve
anarchyâcond- itions where we can meaningfully speak our minds and set
our own goals, when the fate of our lives and planet is not left to cold
institutionsâwe must first become anarchs, proprietors of our minds and
bodies who donât look for excuses to not free ourselves.
Certain aspects of libertarian municipalism, or communalism, networks of
direct democratic municipalities, became a potential means of accessing
my environment without unneeded conflict. Until it is no longer useful,
it is an idea of liberation, while my ownness intrinsically belongs to
me. When I acknowledge it I unlock control over ideas. In this way,
ownness is revolutionary; the arrival of anarchy is dependent on the
activity of anarchs, just as we cannot be completely ourselves without
anarchy. "If my freedom depends on the freedom of all, does not the
freedom of all depend on my acting to free myself?" Libertarian
municipalism, like any anarchist project, can only be a product of
self-ownership.
Ăcalan and Bookchin introduced me to social ecology and an active
example of anarchistic democracy. Although I later saw him as fallible
and preoccupied with baseless anti- individualist grudges, Bookchinâs
general drift aligned well with my idea of an empowering society.
Bookchin was the first voice I found who connected the importance of
anarchism with green politics. In his book Post-Scarcity Anarchism (one
of his better ones), he wrote: âIt cannot be emphasized too strongly
that the anarchist concepts of a balanced community, a face-to-face
democracy, a humanistic technology and a decentralized societyâthese
rich libertarian conceptsâare not only desirable, they are also
necessary. They belong not only to the great visions of manâs future,
they now constitute the preconditions for human survival." The Kurdish
project and Ăcalanâs communalist-inspired brochure Democratic
Confederalism were what convinced me that direct democracy is possible
even in the most uncertain environ- ments. The more I learned, the
easier it was to conceptualize anarchist logic. The more confident I
became that it could work, the more I came to defend it openly.
âI find freedom to be the most important issue facing any human being
today, because without freedom, then life is pointless. The more
dependent you become on centralized power, the more easily you are led
around.â
â Russell Means, Lakota activist
Itâs important to note anarchy's relationship to consensus-oriented
democracy. The etymology of democracy comes from Latin and its literal
definition is ârule by the peopleâ. This makes anarchyâwhich translates
from ancient Greek to âwithout a masterââthe purest democratic idea.
Anarchism holds a vision of participatory decision-making where
communities and individuals can directly influence legislation, giving
people a voice outside of elections. Swedish political scientist Jörgen
WesterstÄhl identified four manifestations of political participation:
electoral participation, referendum, district councils and local
assemblies, and participation based on knowledge and interest in
politics. None of these have to be exclusive, and the healthiest
democracies would need elements of all of them.
Expertise and delegation can still exist in a completely direct
democracy. Abolition of the politician is a common sentiment heard in
some way or another in anarchist communities. This doesnât mean the
abolition of delegation or facilitation; itâs the abolition of special
monopolistic authority, replacing certain roles with grassroots systems.
âPoliticiansâ in an anarchist society are delegates who act in
accordance with decisions made and approved from the bottom using
general assembly, imperative mandates, and referendums.
âBy the people, for the peopleâ means that representative democracy is
treasonous. Representative democracy is inherently âby the
representatives, for the ruling class.â Governmentâwhen it is not used
synonymously with the stateâis the uncountable noun form of the word
âgovernâ and refers to all society's agreements between itself about the
laws of an occupied territory, how those laws are enforced, and the
economic structures that might be present. This never requires
hierarchical rank within that society and the âGovernment of Rankâ is
the intrinsic antithesis of âa peopleâs democracy.â
For anarchists, these democratic ideas have been incorporated in labor
and economics. Anarchism is often associated with libertarian socialism,
sometimes described as the individualist wing of socialism. Some
anarchists would prefer to distance themselves from the confines of
ideology, but most schools nevertheless have strong anti-capitalist
sentiments. Even anarcho-capitalists tend to oppose capitalist monopoly
in their own contradicting and utopian way. Although anarchist
organization, rigidity, and methods vary considerably, they all advocate
some conception of non-monopolistic ownership. Economically speaking,
there are both collectivist and market anti-capitalist tendencies in
anarchism.
The difference between capitalism and markets is that markets are
characterized by decentralized and competitive industry, while
capitalism is characterized by private, central control over production
and land for profit. The larger the monopoly, the more obvious this
distinction becomes. Anarchists are unlike both capitalists and state
socialists because they understand that people do not own the means of
production unless they have direct control over it. By nature, state
bureaucracy excludes workers, sometimes more than capitalism, from
participating in decisions or receiving the full amount from their
labor. For this reason, many anarchist schools have put thought into
non-hierarchical economies.
Opposition to private propertyâwhich is not the same as personal
propertyâdoesnât necessarily mean opposition to markets. Proudhonian
anarchism, for instance, is famously described by its subscribers as
âfree-market anti-capitalism.â It advocates reciprocity, direct
democracy, use and occupation property norms, and collective planning
through a community bank that lends at minimal interest rates. Proudhon
objected to the power relations of capitalism, viewing private
accumulation as feudalistic and prone to monopoly. He argued that the
capitalist order could be toppled if individuals created mutual
contracts between each other to create a cooperative, democratic society
designed to prevent the concentration of market leverage and incentivize
mutual exchange.
In terms of labor, social anarchists are different because they reject
the market economy altogether. Instead, they suggest we should socially
own the means of production through large democratic networks, which
federate into communities, into municipalities, districts and eventually
the entire world. But there are differences in how they think we should
handle distribution. Anarcho-collectivists, like Mikhail Bakunin,
believe we should still use a type of currency, sometimes in the form of
labor notes, corresponding to the amount of work each worker puts into
the organization. Anarcho-communists, like Petr Kropotkin, think we
should distribute according to need and a gift economy.
Some post-left anarchistsâdefined by the critique of trends within
leftism, i.e., global revolution, glorification of workâhave advocated
for ego-communism (anarcho-communism from an egoist approach) or
"mutualism without markets". The only real difference is that it takes a
more self-organized, anti-ideological, and insurrectionary approach,
preferring direct action, self-theory, and affinity groups over
vanguard-style programs. Not that this sums up post-leftism as a whole,
which has never been a single idea or system.
We see here that many anarchists put too much focus on non-hierarchical
organization to be anti-government in the sense of order and protocol.
The notorious Circle-A, popularized by punk and activist culture,
symbolizes âAnarchy is Orderâ, based on the quote by Proudhon, âas man
seeks justice in equality, so society seeks order in anarchy.â In other
words, anarchism pursues balance and liberty by replacing hierarchy with
cooperation, going on to suggest that it is more likely without the
negative order enforced by the state. Still, the philosophy remains
falsely associated with disorder, which has been its biggest obstacle
since before Proudhon embraced the word in the early nineteenth century.
In his manifesto, Errico Malatesta described the issue exactly as it is
today:
âBefore [anarchy] had begun to be considered both possible and desirable
by a whole school of thinkers and accepted as the objective of a party,
which has now become one of the most important factors in the social
struggles of our time, the word anarchy was universally used in the
sense of disorder and confusion; and it is to this day used in that
sense by the uninformed as well as by political opponents with an
interest in distorting the truth.â
Noam Chomsky also mentions this problem in an interview included a
couple dozen pages into On Anarchism: âYeah, itâs a bum rap, basically,â
he said, ââitâs like referring to Soviet-style bureaucracy as
âsocialism,â or any other term of discourse thatâs been given a second
meaning for the purpose of ideological warfare. I mean, âchaosâ is a
meaning of the word, but itâs not a meaning that has any relevance to
social thought. Anarchy as a social philosophy has never meant
âchaosââin fact, anarchists have typically believed in a highly
organized society, just one thatâs organized democratically from below.â
The factor of non-hierarchical organization is crucial for balance and
equity. People donât need to understand socialist theory to understand
their own interests. When I was doing fence contracting, a fiercely
anti-socialist co-worker of mine once proposed a side-job and
distributing the pay equally on top of an additional amount based on
contribution. He thought up socialism on instinct. Imagine if the
average person had a direct say in grassroots democracy. You donât even
need a great deal of inner-working knowledge to participate. Thatâs what
the delegates and experts are for. You just need to know what you want.
Decisions can be formed on a local level between citizens and elected
facilitators, and then passed through direct public mandates and
referendum to maximize the presence of consent. This can be organized on
a massive decentralized scale, as a federation of municipal councils,
regional parliaments, and general congresses, allowing individuals and
communities to exercise a direct influence over their shared environment
and day-to-day life.
From the anarchist perspective, it is imperative for the human condition
that every individual can directly represent themselves, and being
forced to take part in a prison-like society that imposes social,
material, and psychological realities is a natural contradiction. Paired
with consensus, this is where the anarchist principle of
decentralization comes into play as a means for individual empowerment.
If the goal is to give ourselves and each other a voice to the same
degree weâre affected, decisions must occur on the smallest possible
scale. It wouldn't make sense for someone living in L.A. to have a say
in something specific to Chicago. Our communities should be our own
spaces. In these spaces we find both familiarity and a chance to find
our own voice. âThe overriding problem is to change the structure of
society so that people gain power. The best arena to do that is the
municipalityâthe city, town, and villageâwhere we have an opportunity to
create a face-to-face democracy.â
When it comes down to it, the main argument against this type of society
is that humans are incapable of cooperation, that law (as in polity)
equates order and that this order is positive. Most anarchists would
argue that human organization would be impossible if not for our
profound social nature, even in the form of a less conscious enlightened
self-interest, and that society would collapse if not for an everyday
communism underpinning the social foundation exploited by powers of our
age. Sociological studies have found, in fact, that in nearly all cases
of crisis (e.g., a natural disaster) mutual aid and solidarity
increases, with local networks and individuals responding more
efficiently than the government.
The negation of anarchy is also rooted in elitism and projected
insecurity, the assertion that your neighbors are too stupid to have a
say, so itâs better to impose your own views indirectly through
tyrannical institutions. Through this collective disenfranchisement, the
individual is supposed to become âempoweredâ or at least have a slim
chance at representation if they take steps to prove themselves a model
citizenâobedient, passive, committed to a flawed due process. Such in
the logic of statism, especially in the form of ârepresentative
democracy,â a contradiction in terms. This argument disintegrates when
we consider our constant social conflict, the murder of our ecosystem,
the mismanagement of technology and materials, all in the end
demonstrating that politicians and bosses are incapable of sharing our
interests. They are the ones making the damaging decisions while
dragging the rest of the world into their insanity. Instead of getting
to the root of the problem, statists of all varieties continue to
advocate public exclusion from the decisions that affect them.
It could be argued that a lot of our problems ultimately stem from
top-down administration, the state, which gives destructive practices a
monopoly. I genuinely think that directly democratic conditions would
allow us to govern based on core instinct and ego, and certain
anti-social views that only benefit an elite class could not be
sustained. Everyone is a communist without external factors telling them
not to be, at least in the sense of basic empathy and affinity. Most
people care about their community, especially when they are not
experiencing alienation. Even if this werenât the case, societies could
be organized so decisions are confined to their own areasâanother major
case for the principle of decentralization. Likewise, we should also
remember that anarchy is not something that can be imposed by giant
institutions. Anarchists donât create programs, they create networks. If
localities are beyond submission, entering anything close to an
anarchist society, itâs also likely that other things have changed. That
said, I acknowledge that some places will take different paths than
others, but refusing to fight for communal liberation just because
propaganda has made us distrust one another will be the death of any
prospect for better living.
Top-down administration does not entail better decisions. It cannot
represent any individual. All states are founded on monopoly and power,
and like all monopolies, they undermine the will of the individual as
they stray towards centralism and globalism in the gluttonous pursuit
for wealth. Once a monopoly has concentrated enough power at the top,
once it uses its power to betray any possible image of its goodness, it
is doomed to fall apart. This has been clear in every case from the
Mongols to the USSR. Too much violence, too much alienation, and too
much corruption are the rightful nail in the coffin for every state.
Even then, hierarchy will survive unless our coming insurrection is also
aimed at statist culture. Power doesnât give up power, and it acquires
more at every opportunity no matter the cost. It will continue to appear
until one way or another the illusion is dismantled.
Statism is not an intrinsic part of our nature. Most modern
anthropologists agree that for practically all of human history, until
about the end of the Neolithic Age, human culture was communal and
largely consensus-driven. Just like ant colonies that wind up walking in
circles until they die, the human race is in an insanity loop. The only
way to break this loop is by recognizing it, taking individual and
eventually collective efforts to break free.
After the arrival of the state, even the modern nation-state, there have
been countless large- and small-scale stateless societies that have
flourished only to be destroyed by foreign governments. Non-hierarchical
society has existed on American soil for thousands of years, especially
before Manifest Destiny, the large-scale robbery and subjugation which
propelled us into our corporate age. One good example is the Iroquois
Confederation, described by colonial emissary Cadwallader Colden as
having âsuch absolute notions of liberty that they allow of no kind of
superiority of one over another, and banish all servitude from their
territories.â The Iroquois were among the most complex governments in
the world at the time, living by a communal and participatory basis that
is still in practice today. Another example is the Muscogee (Creek)
Nation. For the Muscogee, if agreement on major issues could not be
found, tribal members were encouraged to set up their own settlements
with help from those they were leaving. We can see how unfathomable this
is today, when nearly every aspect of community and individual life is
micromanaged by removed powers.
Old European guilds, communes, tĂșaths, voluntaryist practices, etc.,
belonged to a western anarchic tradition that ended with the violent
spread of hierarchy and colonization. Over a long period of assimilation
and conquest, these trends swallowed the globe. Developing into
increasingly centralized states built on superstition and power, they
forcefully guided the focus of man-kind away from community and nature.
Itâs an old story: the arrival of the state expanded and perpetuated a
violent culture in spite of our better tendencies. Our dystopian reality
today is only the newest manifestation of relatively recent trends.
Anarchist organization is no stranger to the present. We see it in
action today with the Zapatistas and the Kurds. But the most famous
modern example is Catalonia during the Spanish Civil War. The anarchist
movement in Spain was the product of generational oppression carried out
by the monarchy, capitalist robber-barons, and the Catholic Church,
which pulled peasants and urban working-class communities towards
radical thought for an alternative. The ideas of Bakunin, Kropotkin,
Marx, Proudhon, Stirner, ĂlisĂ©e Reclus and others became very popular
over a few decades, especially in Barcelona. By the 1920s, revolutionary
trade unions across Spain carried out massive general strikes and
sabotage campaigns at growing numbers, and in 1931 the monarchy was
overthrown.
The population quickly established a constitutional republic and began
making progressive reforms. This created a sense of alienation among
reactionary currentsâi.e., fascists, monarchists, liberal capitalists.
By July 1936, Francisco Franco, a fascist general under the old
monarchy, united these groups to execute a coup, facilitating his power
with the aid of Nazi and Italian forces. Push-back was higher than
anticipated. Those loyal to the Republicâor at least against the
fascistsâscrambled to form a resistance. The Republic became the least
influential faction as Marxist and anarchist organizations established
territories across northern Spain. Practically overnight the entire
region of Catalonia and Aragon founded a network of free municipalities
on anarchist ideas.
The anarchists in Spain wanted to distance themselves from the
bureaucratic interpretations of socialism and communism. In his book
After the Revolution, published shortly after the uprising, economist
Diego Abad de Santillan wrote: âWe are guided by the vision of a society
of free producers and distributors in which no power exists to remove
from them the possession of the productive apparatus. In the Russian
example, the State has taken away from workersâ associations and
peasants the free decision over everything relating to the instruments
of labor, production and distribution. The producers there have changed
their masters. They do not even own the means of production nor the
goods they produce, and the wage earner, who is subjected to as many
inequalities or more than in the capitalistic society, is living under
an economic order of dependency, servitude and slavery.â
Much of the economy in Spain was collectivized and many resources were
distributed on a communal basis. Workers and communities seized 75% of
the economy in the anarchist stronghold of Barcelona, most of which
during one grand sweep at the very beginning of the war. Since the
collectivization was directly democratic in nature, workers on the
ground floor were able to personally influence decisions with their
unique perspectives. Conditions also improved and changes were made to
make labor a more welcoming and voluntary task. According to Emma
Goldman, who visited Catalonia between 1936 and 1937, productivity rose
by 30â50% across the entire region despite wartime interference. In a
publication for the Workersâ Solidarity Movement, Eddie Conlon said this
on the Spanish economy:
âCollectivisation was voluntary and thus different from the forced
âcollectivisationâ in Russia. Usually a meeting was called and all
present would agree to pool together whatever land, tools and animals
they had. The land was divided into rational units and groups of workers
were assigned to work them. Each group had its delegate who represented
their views at meetings. A management committee was also elected and was
responsible for the overall running of the collective. Each collective
held regular general meetings of all its participants.
âIf you didnât want to join the collective you were given some land but
only as much as you could work yourself. You were not allowed to employ
workers. Not only production was affected, distribution was on the basis
of what people needed. In many areas money was abolished. People come to
the collective store (often churches which had been turned into
warehouses) and got what was available. If there were shortages
rationing would be introduced to ensure that everyone got their fair
share. But it was usually the case that increased production under the
new system eliminated shortages.
âIn agricultural terms the revolution occurred at a good time. Harvests
that were gathered in and being sold off to make big profits for a few
landowners were instead distributed to those in need. Doctors, bakers,
barbers, etc. were given what they needed in return for their services.
Where money was not abolished a âfamily wageâ was introduced so that
payment was on the basis of need and not the number of hours worked.
âProduction greatly increased. Technicians and agronomists helped the
peasants to make better use of the land. Modern scientific methods were
introduced and in some areas yields increased by as much as 50%. There
was enough to feed the collectivists and the militias in their areas.
Often there was enough for exchange with other collectives in the cities
for machinery. In addition food was handed over to the supply committees
who looked after distribution in the urban areas.â
The Spanish libertarians faced some challenges that shouldn't be
overlooked. While the resistance did receive some aid from the Communist
International (controlled by the Soviet Union), munitions were
systematically cut off from the anarchists. Militiamen received minimal
training, shabby rifles, and poor ammunition; because weapons and
munitions were scarce, they were unable to exit survival mode and engage
in united offensive action. These conditions may have well foretold the
outcome of the war. Contrary to statist claims, however, anarchist
militias did well considering these odds. Their confederal and
democratic nature made them flexible and capable of carrying out tasks
independent of one another. Propagand- ists often suggest this
grassroots model was more disastrous than it was; just as often, they
act like centralized modes of coordination were even possible at this
time. As Orwell noted in his memoir, âa modern mechanized army does not
spring up out of the ground.â Even the decrees imposed out of pressure
from the Communist International could not change this, as the ranks
retained a decentralized soft command throughout the war.
There were some problems that came with the revolution. They were deeply
ideological, suffering from the habit of fetishizing mental constructs.
As anarchism replaced the moral authority of the church, many people
sacralized it similarly, creating another conformist culture based on
anarchic doctrine. Despite its strong democratic and egalitarian
practices and opposition to hierarchy, this culture nonetheless had
dogmatic elements where indivi- duals acted for grand narratives they
internalized and put before themselves. My criticism follows illegalist
and egoist-anarchist Renzo Novatoreâs point: âSince the time that human
beings first believed that life was a duty, a calling, a mission, it has
meant shame for their power of being, and in following phantoms, they
have denied themselves and distanced them- selves from the real. When
Christ said to human beings: âbe yourselves, perfection is in you!â he
launched a superb phrase that is the supreme synthesis of life.â
My issue is not with anarchism nor even with social anarchism, but with
people losing touch with their inner-authority. The heteronomy in
Spainâwhich harmed the individual psyche above all elseâoccurred partly
in response to the revolution, a perceived time of enlightenment and
fraternity after generations of oppression. There was even evidence that
it was more of a trend among the organizers and propagandists than the
insurgents. Still, it's worth noting its relationship with the
intellectual and ecclesiastical trends rotting our minds for thousands
of yearsâin this case, the idea that doctrine is anything more than the
fallible words of another of ourselves, and the tendency to act for
grand causes, a mere righting of systematic wrongs without emphasis on
what this means is for ourselves. They found it difficult to "reject the
black flag" so to speak. This may be a side-effect of every social
movement for a long time; the development of healthier habits begins
now.
We need to battle the notion that ideology or morality have any place in
organizationâ including anarchism. While agreed upon methods for
organizing are one thing, liberation is not imposing a new social order
on a basis of "right" and "wrong", "good" and "evil", what we are
obligated to do with our "freedom". It's better that organization remain
fluid, eclecticâa constantly-evolving and natural product of
individuals. Building a "free" society on higher systems and doctrinal
thinking is missing the point. Hardly anyone criticizes the
Enlightenment stance on secularism and its opposition to theocracy, yet
still the aim of practically every political movement emphasizes
imposing new moral institutions, a new ideological order. Even most
anarchists fall into this dogma, forgetting that institutionalized ideas
and doctrine become a justification for limited democracy and,
ultimately, a major variable in the establishment of strict political
orders like the church, only this time surrounding a religion of ideas.
Religious secularism isn't enoughâwe're long overdue for total
secularism.
Apart from these cultural issues, which were still naturally occurring
and minimal compared to state-enforced ideology, we can still admire the
Spanish anarchistsâ systems of doing things. The anarchist organizations
in Spain demonstrated that freedom and equality are interdependent,
mutually-reinforcing goals, and that real revolution is abolishing
alienating institutions rather than âseizing controlâ of them.
Everything about their decentralized, consensus-driven methods proved
promising, even considering the moments of confusion at the beginning of
the revolution. History might have looked considerably different if
Comintern hadn't threatened to withhold subsidies if Leninist factions
didnât repress and eventually destroy the anarchist communities. Civil
war erupted amidst civil war, making the resistance even more vulnerable
to fascist forces. The anarchists fell on February 10th, 1939, to many
marking the end of the golden age of classical anarchism. Francoâs army
took total control of Spain by April 1st, a little under two months
later.
âBe realistic, demand the impossible.â
â slogan from the 1968 anarchist uprising in France
These are turbulent times for our planet. Perhaps more than any other
time in history, we are seeing the consequences of our debased and
power-hungry civilization. Often without realizing it, we find ourselves
facing an order that produces only mediocrity, loneliness, mindless
waste, and unnecessary violence. Across the worldâdespite the mental
tyranny of institutions, parties, and cultureâexperimental ideas are
spreading as our corporatocratic states continue to push their luck. Yet
still there are still multitudes of people who canât imagine what even a
minor deviation from the present reality would look like. Many have
moved on from capitalist and neoliberal politics, at least in word, but
there are many mistakes we can make from here, such as placing
production in the hands of bureaucratic power or putting too much faith
in politicians, narratives, and platforms. People have the social values
but the tendency towards authoritarianism escapes few groups in
contemporary politics. Itâs about time we gave more anarchic ideas
serious consideration.
For many anarchist circles, it's been a long time since just getting
together hasnât felt like a victory. But as a habit developed out of
stagnation, it is dying with action. Today radicals are finding more and
more direction, and minor differences donât matter as much when you hit
the streets. Affinity groups and solidarity networks are popping up in
many areas, as well as worker, tenant, and houseless unions. Nearly
every major city has an anarchist bookstore and collective. Even among
non-anarchistsâat least from what Iâve seenâanti-work, anti-policing,
unionism, and prison abolition are becoming common topics in public
discourse. People are also warming up to the tactics of sabotage,
occupation, rioting, and general strike. As urgent as the future seems,
itâs easy to lose yourself in hope when youâre right in the thick of
things, which is my best advice for the fed-up and terrified.
Of course, we first need to consider how we would manage to
realistically overturn things under a highly developed surveillance
state like ours. Centralized, top-down tactics would make us an easy
target in five seconds. Right now, the best thing would be to start from
the bottom, spreading the word and building local affinity
networksâexpropriative gangs, infoshops, mutual aid groups, trained
militias, etc.âto challenge the legitimacy of capitalism and the state.
The goal of these organizations should be putting communities and
individuals in the saddle. âFreedom cannot be âdeliveredâ to the
individual as the âend-productâ of a ârevolutionâ; the assembly and
community cannot be legislated or decreed into existence,â said Murray
Bookchin. This doesnât mean fighting for a transitory state or a
representative who isnât ourselves. This means fighting for direct
democracy and horizontalism. Anything else is just another transfer of
control over our lives and communities.
Authority cannot create freedom. This is a basic law of society that
almost everyone has lost. For both practical and tactical purposes,
organized action should be led by a series of networks linked by
affinity, what the Italian insurgent Alfredo Bonanno called the âbase
nucleiâ of anarchist revolutionary struggle. Especially when in direct
collaboration with communities, horizontal groups and militias help
authority remain at the bottom. They also promote horizontal activity
that is much harder to infiltrate and destroy than parties, bureaucratic
unions, and states. A consensus-driven network of affinity groups
involved with easily repeatable attacks may be our best method of
organization.
Decentralized action of all types is the one thing bureaucratic
governments like ours arenât skilled at destroyingâthey can rape the
planet and torture the people, but at the end of the day they only
understand themselves. Americaâs defeat in Vietnam and Afghanistan was
largely due to the difficulty infiltrating, tracking, and identifying
confederal militias. Russian conscripts today find similar obstacles in
the Russo-Ukrainian War. Decentralization has also shown potential in
more reformist movements like Black Lives Matter, which organizes into
local chapters, but alone they will never be able to make big changes in
a world this authoritarian. Not without embracing life as courageous,
self-willed rebels. Not without dropping out of indentured living to
build networks. Not without meaningful agitation, education, adaptation,
nor without the support of every committed insurgent, diligent medic,
cunning saboteur, and passionate orator that I am proud to see in some
circles. There would also need to be a surplus of involvement, because
support is not cheering at the sidelines for a cause you've done nothing
for. Take this as an invitation. The experiences found in the heart of
community and direct action are inspiring, just as much as the reasons
are often enraging; it makes it easy to see the difference between
community and hierarchy.
Change depends on action. I'm sick of people ordering off Amazon and
working to pay rent just to be like, "When will the revolution happen?"
Every moment is the revolution! Your workplaces, your neighborhoods,
your prisons, your schools are the battlegrounds. Every second there are
opportunities to organize, expropriate, and sabotage. A post-state
future will not arrive until we start taking every opportunity to strike
back!
The time to adopt an insurrectionary practice is now. When I say
insurrection I mean âan organized rebellion aimed at overthrowing a
constituted government through the use of subversion, sabotage, and
direct resistanceâcalling in question the legitimacy and efficacy of
government.â Insurrection means much more than revolution. Revolution
refers to an overturning of conditions and institutions while
insurrection, notwithstanding its goal of dismantling the established
order, emphasizes the logic of individual revolt, a rising of headstrong
rebels fed up with the life presented to them. As Stirner put it, âThe
revolution aimed at new arrangements; insurrection leads us no longer to
let ourselves be arranged, but to arrange ourselves, and sets no
glittering hopes on âinstitutionsâ.â Change requires the development of
our individuality just as much as our environment.
Resistance can take many forms. All anarchistsâexcept for those
convinced that the state will naturally wither awayâhave advocated some
idea of insurrection. Establishing mutual aid networks and free stores
may be considered insurrectionary, so long as itâs self-organized and
openly subversive. My goal is to create autonomous spaces where I can
pursue stimulating experiences and represent myself in a way that
matters. I think we should take any realistic path towards this but we
canât depend on it being delivered to us. Power doesnât give up
powerïżœïżœmaybe you can change some aspects of a monopoly, but you canât
make a monopoly give itself up by asking, waiting, or readily
compromising.
This is where insurrection becomes essential. The significance of
insurrection is not measured in quantitative ways such as body count or
military might, but the social upheaval, action, and cultural and
personal transformation it generates. The importance of any given
rebellion should be assessed by how it manages to break the âbusiness as
usualâ passivity thatâs all too common in today's world. The tactics
used by the Zapatista movement provide a good exampĂ le of this. Their
comparatively small armed clash with the Mexican government in San
Cristobal in 1994 is considered an example of successful insurrection,
not because of a staggering military victory, but because it was able to
catalyze a culture of insurgency that is still alive today. The
autonomous communities in the Chiapas highlands are in part a product of
this insurrectionary culture. They have since used this base to begin a
new campaign against the Mexican state and have expanded into parts of
Oaxaca.
We need to know when to be passive and when to be assertive, when to
break a window and when to fix one. Realistically, we need to at least
build the foundation of the replacement before we can really get down to
overthrowing the status quo. Every need and necessary function of the
community must be fulfilled by self-organized revolutionary
associations, without permission from capital or government. It would
probably be pointless and even dangerous to put too much faith into any
one strategy, but whatever happens it would be wise to highlight
grassroots practices as much as we can. Doing our part to build a
network of mutual aid groups, militias, community services, solidarity
networks, and black market cooperatives would be a good start. I know
there are plenty of people ready to undertake something like this, so
all we need to do is go out and meet each other.
Change comes through action, not waiting. A radical insurrectionary
movement might be quick and spontaneous or it may be a gradual process
spanning over decades if we manage to survive that long. This does not
change how we should respond at present or the extreme importance of
restructuring how our world works. The present situation calls for a
campaign of subversion, direct action, and community support,
challenging the state and democratizing communities from below, taking
every opportunity to build up our communities and transform them into
autonomous spaces. This requires a great deal of courage and self-willed
discipline. It also requires expertise and total divestment in the
current order.
If a movement has any potential to threaten the status quo, authorities
will ruthlessly try to repress, derail, or hijack it to prevent it from
growing. The anti-police movement here in the U.S., for example, is
consistently met with violence whether protesters are peaceful or not.
This is something we should expect but can also use to our advantage.
People have gone to events with the intent of non-violent civil
disobedience, but came prepared with a plan and defense, in some cases
developing effective new strategies. Once the police attack, which they
sometimes are looking for any excuse to do, black bloc and other
affinity-style groups make sure to protect and defend the vulnerable.
Radical medics respond to the injured and indepen- dent press documents
things to expose the true nature of the state.
The point of these minor rebellions is to promote a culture of action
and catalyze large-scale movements against the corporate state. Alone
they are pointless. The true battlefields are in our minds and everyday
life. In the real world, most of the revolution is building, not
destroying. Solidarity networks may prove useful. Some might ask,
"wouldnât all of this be mercilessly attacked?" Most things worth doing
are going to be difficult. This is the unfortunate reality. However,
every person changes the world at least a little bit, and therefore
every subversive act means something. These tactics have been proven
effective wherever they have been applied and could do better. Believe
me, the logic of aiming high and acting will get us more than we ever
thought possible. âThe weak indulge in resolutions, but the strong act.
Life is but a dayâs workâdo it well.â Our future is ours if weâre up for
the struggle.