💾 Archived View for library.inu.red › file › john-moore-anarchism-poststructuralism.gmi captured on 2023-01-29 at 11:25:28. Gemini links have been rewritten to link to archived content
➡️ Next capture (2024-07-09)
-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Title: Anarchism & Poststructuralism Author: John Moore Date: 1994 Language: en Topics: second wave, poststructuralism, primitivism, post-situationism, post-structuralist, review Source: Second Wave Anarchy Zine.
The Political Philosophy of Poststructuralist Anarchism
Todd May, University Park, Pennsylvania:
Pennsylvania State University Press, 1994.
Any discussion of the interface between anarchism and poststructuralism
is likely to be written from one side of the fence or the other, and
this will inevitably affect the nature of the analysis undertaken. This
text is written from the poststructuralist side, and as a result one
must carefully scrutinise the author's grounding in anarchism. The
book's bibliography provides a useful indicator in this respect. The
anarchist titles listed comprise two books by Bakunin, three by
Kropotkin, one by Proudhon, one by Bookchin, one by Ward, Reinventing
Anarchy, The Anarchist Reader, and the standard overviews by Woodcock
and Joll. The most notable aspect of this list is its omissions.
Elsewhere I have argued that anarchist history, on the model of feminist
history, can be assigned a two phase periodisation. Just like first-wave
feminism, anarchism has an early phase, conveniently labelled as
classical anarchism. From its intellectual origins in Godwin and
Proudhon, classical anarchism developed into its mature form during the
nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, finding its climactic
expression (but also its swansong) in the Spanish Revolution.
This is the phase of anarchism which Woodcock pronounced dead in the
mid-1950s in the first edition of Anarchism.
But unbeknownst to those immersed in classical anarchist traditions, a
new, second-wave of anarchism (akin and indeed roughly contemporaneous
with second-wave feminism) was stirring. The Situationists represent a
convenient marker of the transition point, and serve as origin for the
remarkable effiorescence of second-wave anarchism that is currently
underway. Second-wave anarchism is still frequently not even recognised
by anarchists and commentators who still cling to the idea that
classical anarchism is the one and only true form of anarchism, even
though first-wave anarchism was seen as moribund by Woodcock forty years
ago.
As a result, many outside the anarchist milieu are given the misleading
impression that a) classical anarchism is anarchism, b) anarchism is
therefore an historical phenomenon, and thus c) there are no current
manifestations of anarchist praxis. The unfortunate consequences of
these misconceptions can be seen in May's understanding of anarchism.
With the partial exception of Reinventing Anarchy, the anarchist titles
in May's bibliography consist entirely of texts on or by classical
anarchists. (Ward, like Goodman, can perhaps be seen as a transitional
figure, but his grounding in the British anarcho-reformist tradition of
Godwin and Read underscores his classical anarchist orientation.
Bookchin, particularly in light of Social Anarchism or
Lifestyle-Anarchism, can be unproblematically characterised as a late
manifestation of the classical anarchist tradition.)
The question that must be addressed to May's text is: Where are the
second-wave anarchists? Where are Debord, Vaneigem, Perlman, Zerzan, and
so on? This is not mere pedantry. May is able to cast post-structuralist
thinkers as latter-day anarchists precisely because his knowledge of
anarchism suggests that currently there is an intellectual vacuum where
classical anarchism used to be. The fact that this vacuum is an
illusion— an illusion partly fostered by commentators who are either
ignorant of, or refuse to acknowledge the existence of, second-wave
anarchism— casts an unfortunate doubt on the validity of May's project.
May's book 'attempts to capture what is— or what ought to be— most
lasting in the legacy of post-structuralist thought: its anarchism'
(155). In order to achieve this aim, May distinguishes between three
types of political philosophy: formal, strategic, and tactical. Formal
political philosophy is 'characterized by its cleaving either to the
pole of what ought to be or to the pole of what is at the expense of the
tension between the two' (4). It provides abstract discussions of the
large-scale principles that define the ideal society, and thus generates
a totalising, unitary explanation of social relations.
Strategic political philosophy, on the other hand, is concerned with the
historical implementation of political philosophies and thus with the
pragmatic methodological concerns of achieving political goals. As a
result, it 'involves a unitary analysis that aims toward a single goal'
(11). In the strategic perspective, power is seen to emanate from a
particular centre (eg, the State, capitalist economic relations) which
then provides the focus for practical activities.
In contrast to these totalising forms of political expression, however,
tactical political philosophy refuses to align itself with the poles of
either what is or what ought to be, preferring to oscillate between the
two. Refusing any grand narrative or totalising explanation, the
tactical perspective does not see power as residing in a specific locus,
but as arising at a number of sites and in the interplay between these
sites. In practical terms, this means that political intervention must
be local and plural, rather than general and unified. It also has
important implications for social agency in that it questions the
legitimacy of representation. If the sites of power are multiple, then
no one vanguard group is in a privileged position to speak or act on
behalf of others.
For May, poststructuralist political philosophy differs from other types
of politics because it affirms the tactical rather than the formal or
the strategic. However, in anarchism— despite its ambivalent commitment
between tactical and strategic thinking— he perceives "a forerunner to
current poststructuralist thought' (13). In an interesting discussion.
May exposes the failures of Marxism in terms of its adherence to rigid
forms of formal and strategic thinking. He then proceeds to a
consideration of anarchism (for which read: classical anarchism) and
thence to a discussion of the compatibility of anarchist and
poststructuralist thinking, with the aim of outlining (in the words of a
chapter title) the 'steps toward a poststructuralist anarchism'.
The problem with this project is that it remains framed entirely within
terms of classical anarchism. May sees (classical) anarchism as
unsatisfactorily ambivalent in its strategic and tactical tendencies.
The reason for these contradictory commitments is easily deduced.
Classical anarchism isstrategic insofar as it locates the source of
power in a single institution— the State, but tactical where it resists
the different types of power that emerge where the State exists. For
May, however, the fact that (classical) anarchism— in contrast to
Marxism— has pronounced tactical tendencies remains sufficient to cast
it as a 'forerunner' of poststructuralist politics, and to characterize
the latter as the contemporary form of (intellectual) anarchism.
This is clearly unsatisfactory as well as inaccurate. Anarchism is not
the forerunner of anything— least of all a pallid academic tendency such
as poststructuralism— because it is not a dead Victorian doctrine, but a
living, thriving project. The fact that it has undergone various
transformations during its second-wave which have rendered it invisible
or unrecognisable to some, should not disguise the fact that classical
anarchism can no longer be taken as the basis for discussion of
contemporary anarchism. Second-wave anarchism has expanded the project
of the classical anarchists: the focus of contemporary anarchism is not
the abolition of the State, but the abolition of the totality, of life
structured by governance and coercion, of power itself in all its
multiple forms. And it is here that contemporary anarchism departs
markedly from May's poststructuralist anarchism. Not least in the fact
that second-wave anarchism incorporates an explicit rejection of the
political as an appropriate focus for practice.
In dealing with issues of power. May draws extensively upon Deleuze,
Lyotard and (particularly) Foucault. While approving of the classical
anarchist recognition that power is arranged through intersecting
networks rather than exclusively through hierarchies, he asserts: 'The
anarchist picture of networks requires deepening' (51). And the
poststructuralist analysis of power is to provide this development.
Poststructuralism, for May, rejects 'the a priori of traditional (ie,
classical] anarchism* (85): the notion of power as solely a negative,
repressive force, and the notion of subjectivity as a viable source of
political action. On the basis of a critique of these ideas from a
poststructuralist perspective. May postulates 'a new type of anarchism'
(85) which rejects strategic thought for a comprehensive tactical
approach: poststructuralist anarchism. The fact that 'a new type of
anarchism'— ie, second-wave anarchism— already exists,and has on
occasion (eg, in Zerzan's "The Catastrophe of Postmodernism') been very
critical of the poststructuralist project, escapes May altogether.
Following Foucault et al. May affirms the idea that power is not always
suppressive, but sometimes productive. But like his poststructuralist
mentors, he fudges the issue, from an anarchist perspective, by
reiterating this familiar formula. Whether power is suppressive or
productive, it is still power that is to say, it still uses force
(whether overtly or insidiously) to construct and define individuals and
make them think or act in particular ways. Whether power say 'thou shall
not...' or 'here are your options ...', coercion is involved. "One would
not call all exercises of power oppressive," May states (96). But surely
that depends upon whom one is. May admits that 'anarchists are
suspicious of all power' (61), although (as far as the second-wave is
concerned) suspicion is a far too cautious term for a project aimed at
the abolition of the ensemble of power relations, the control complex
itself. But this is not the case with Foucault, who is quoted
approvingly as saying:
relations of power are not something bad in themselves, from which one
must free oneself.... The problem is not of trying to dissolve them in
the Utopia of a perfectly transparent communication, but to give one's
self the rules of law, the techniques of management, and also the
ethics, the ethos, the practice of self, which would allow these games
of power to be played with a minimum of domination. (123)
The references to law, management and minimalist domination, plus the
explicit anti-utopian stance, suggest the incompatibility of Foucauldian
ideology with contemporary anarchism, and undermine May's claims for a
poststructuralist anarchism. "The question," May avers, "is not whether
or not there is power, but which relationships of power are acceptable
and which are unacceptable" (123) But this is merely the question of
liberalism, and indicates the recuperative nature of poststructuralism
in co-opting radical impulses.
For contemporary anarchism, no relationships of power are acceptable.
"If power is suppressive, then the central political question to be
asked is: When is the exercise of power legitimate, and when is it not?"
(61). But for second-wave anarchism, the answer is the same, whether
power is suppressive or productive: never! 'Given that the old answers
to political problems— appropriating the means of production, seizing or
eliminating the state, destroying all relations of power— are found to
be lacking, what perspective can poststructuralist theory offer for
thinking about political change as well as power and political
oppression?' (112). Aside from the fact that for anarchists these are
social not political problems, the putative failure of 'the old answers'
is not proved and thus cannot be taken as a given. What can be
established, however, is that the perspectives offered by
poststructuralism are reformist.
May offers an unconvincing defence to the charge of reformism: "The
mistake that is made in contrasting revolution and reform lies in the
assumption that the former involves a qualitative change in society,
while the latter involves only a quantitative change. However, on the
alternative picture of politics being sketched here, there are in
reality only quantitative changes, qualitative ones being defined in
terms of them" (54) But this too fudges the point. Revolution (better:
insurrection) depends on a rupture, whereas the poststructuralist
perspective offered here depends on piecemeal change, the mark of the
reformist, and never results in that definitive break. Further, from a
second-wave perspective, the totality— the totality of power relations—
cannot be resisted in piecemeal fashion, and thus poststructuralist
anarchism could never hope to engage in dismantling the totality. As May
remarks, "The task of a poststructuralist politics is to attempt to
construct power relations that can be lived with, not to overthrow power
altogether" (114).
In fact, by undermining subjectivity as the basis from which to launch
resistance. May leaves no space from which the totality might be
questioned.
The point of [classical] anarchism's resort to the idea of a benign
human essence is to be able to justify its resistance to power. Suppose
that anarchists had a different view of power, one that saw power not
solely as suppressive but also as productive: power not only suppresses
actions, events, and people, but creates them as well. In that case, it
would be impossible to justify the resistance to all power; one would
have to distinguish clearly acceptable creations or effects (as opposed,
in the case of the suppressive assumption, to exercises) of power from
unacceptable ones. (63)
The coercive nature of both suppressive and productive power has been
demonstrated above, and there is little sense in staging a defence of
classical anarchism. However, the intent of this passage is clear, by
discrediting the notion of essentialism, May attempts to undermine the
anarchist project of resisting all power.This ploy remains ineffective
when applied to second-wave anarchism, however.
While classical anarchism may rest its claims on Being, second-wave
anarchism emphasises Becoming. Following from Nietzsche's notion of
self-overcoming, the Situationists stress radical subjectivity as the
basis for resistance.The project of resisting the totality rests, not on
some essentialist human subject, but on the subject-in-process, or
better, the subject-in-rebellion: the radical subject.The processual
nature of this identity undercuts May's charge of essentialism, but at
the same time provides a basis in lived experience for resistance to the
totality, rather than reformist quibbling over acceptable and
unacceptable forms of power.
May has written a stimulating and readable book, and one worth reading
for its candour about the politics of poststructuralism alone. This text
allows one to think through important issues, even though one's
conclusions differ widely from those held by the author. On one level,
however, the text stands as an indictment of the distance between
academia and contemporary anarchism, and between anarchist commentators
and the present anarchist milieu.