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Title: Taking Proudhon seriously Author: Anarcho Date: January 2, 2014 Language: en Topics: Pierre-Joseph Proudhon, book review Source: Retrieved on 24th April 2021 from https://anarchism.pageabode.com/?p=780
Pierre-Joseph Proudhon (1809–1865), the first person to proclaim himself
an anarchist, is rarely treated with respect. Thanks to various
hatchet-jobs (Marx, Schapiro, Draper), if he is mentioned it is often
with contempt but usually with incomprehension. The notion that he was
contradictory is so well engrained in the secondary literature (itself
usually based on repeating previous secondary sources) that what
Proudhon actually argued is lost. It is so bad that many people think he
advocated ideas he publically refuted holding.
Given this, Alex Prichard’s Justice, Order and Anarchy: The
International Political Theory of Pierre-Joseph Proudhon (Routledge,
2013) is a breath of fresh air. It ranks with K. Steven Vincent’s
Pierre-Joseph Proudhon and the Rise of French Republican Socialism as an
accurate exploration of Proudhon’s ideas within the context in which he
wrote. In eight chapters Prichard summarises Proudhon’s ideas as well as
the history and current state of International Relations (IR) Theory. He
shows how Proudhon’s much misunderstood (and misrepresented) War and
Peace (1861) can be used to show that the ordered “anarchy” between
states on an internal level can be used to expand anarchy downwards
rather than expand hierarchy upwards (into regional and global
governments).
Prichard argues that “international anarchy” could be “a template for
theorising republican freedom more generally” (91) and so IR can enrich
anarchism just as anarchism can enrich it. It is an interesting position
which Prichard explains persuasively by looking at Proudhon’s War and
Peace. A much misrepresented work (deliberately so, by the likes of
Schapiro and Draper), Prichard shows its aim clearly: to understand war
in order to transcend it. War was the product of an unequal society and
could only be ended by economic and social reform – by giving
“democratic control” to the workers. (132) As Proudhon argued, “the
organisation of peace” was only possible by working people “creating
economic equilibrium” and so putting “an end to war.” (quoted 132)
Those who view War and Peace as a quasi-fascist celebration of war would
be well served reading this book. Indeed, it was Proudhon who first
coined the term militarism and used it to describe a development he
opposed. (58) Sadly, Prichard’s otherwise excellent discussion of War
and Peace also includes a slightly misleading discussion of Proudhon’s
alleged racism. He suggests its discussion of slavery was “racist” as it
was based on “inequality between races” with its talk of superior and
inferior races. (120) Yet Proudhon’s language here reflects the
assumptions of many nineteenth century thinkers (including Marx) and
Prichard ignores his comment that “a superior race” has to “raise” the
so-called “inferior” races “up to our level” (not to mention that
Proudhon used the word “race” very loosely, talking, for example, of
“the English race”).[1]
This inequality of races reflects what Proudhon considered as marking
his world but this does not mean that he was happy with it nor thought
it intrinsic for if it were then this levelling up of races would be
impossible. Rather it was a product of history and just as economic
inequalities could be ended, so could the racial ones. While patronising
and wrong, Proudhon’s comments in War and Peace reflect the cultural
assumptions of his time rather than a racist position – as shown in
works like General Idea of the Revolution in which he proclaimed racial
equality.[2] It is best seen in the chapter “Slavery and the
Proletariat” in Proudhon’s The Federative Principle[3] which argues for
full civil rights for all, black and white, as well as the abolition of
chattel slavery and wage-slavery as blacks should be “as free as the
whites by nature and human dignity.” The “federative principle” is
“closely related to that of the social equality of races and the
equilibrium of fortunes.” Economic, political and racial inequality “are
one and the same problem” which “the same theory… can resolve”.[4] It is
unfortunate that this important chapter is not discussed.[5]
Prichard recounts the essentials of Proudhon’s ideas and so shows the
reader why they should read more. His alternative to capitalism, as
indicated in The Federative Principle, is to replace both slavery and
wage-slavery with co-operative socialism.[6] Prichard sketches this
vision of “direct democracy in the workplace and federating according to
trade, function and need” (136) in which “all groups and individuals are
self-governing” (146) including the municipality, city and above.[7]
Even the military “ought to be democratically run and accountable to
society.” (146)
Which raises the issue of the one area of life where Proudhon excluded
liberty, the family. Prichard does not avoid the issue and points to his
sexism as “the most egregious example of the absence of consistency in
Proudhon’s theory” and subjects it to an immanent critique, “using
Proudhon’s own concepts against his theory”. (106) Prichard is right to
do this for, while repulsive, his anti-feminism should not be used for a
blanket rejection of all his ideas given the otherwise appealing nature
of his vision of a federated self-managed society. So if you conclude
that “each locale should be run by the people” and “autonomy of groups
ought to stretch to the factories and workshops” for “democracy to be
meaningful it had to be the expression of our existence in natural
groups that we are part of” (55) then why exclude the family? Subsequent
anarchists corrected this inconsistency and embraced full equality and
justice for all.
Thus, ironically, Proudhon helped others in “the extension of republican
freedom” to “the everyday practices of gender inequality, the regimes of
domination structured by the state and private property” and so on. He
can also help us today to reclaim “the emancipatory potential of
anarchy.” (159) Prichard’s book will ensure that Proudhon is taken
seriously not only in academia but also in activist circles precisely
because he takes his ideas seriously and shows their relevance when they
were written and now.
This is another joy of Prichard’s book: it places Proudhon’s works into
their political and social context. Much of his output was polemics with
other French thinkers, most of whom are now forgotten. While this dates
his work it does show that while he is often portrayed as an isolated
intellectual in fact Proudhon was very much part of the wider political
debate – both within and outwith the socialist movement. So Prichard is
right to stress that “[r]ecounting Proudhon’s intellectual context and
his engagement with it will help us better situate anarchism in the
history of political thought.” (68) This can be seen from his account of
Rousseau, Kant and Comte and their relation with Proudhon. As well as
refuting “the standard Anglophone, neo-Kantian interpretations of
Proudhon’s thought” (95) he also shows how Proudhon’s work can only be
understood in terms of “a direct engagement with what he saw as
Rousseau’s broken promises” (70) over political and economic freedom and
equality.
This engagement is particularly relevant given the current (recurring!)
talk of the population feeling alienated by a political system that does
not reflect their views. While Proudhon would have agreed with much of
this critique he would have noted that this is not a “failure” of the
system but rather what it was designed to do. As Prichard summarises,
“the system of universal suffrage asks groups to relinquish this
collective capacity in favour of individual political subjectivity and
alienate their political force to representatives who may or may not
reflect their interests.” (132)
For Proudhon, the state was an instrument of class power and could never
be reformed by the people. This analysis is reflected in his writings on
nationalism, as Prichard’s account clearly shows. Proudhon’s opposition
to national liberation movements was informed by a simply question – who
benefits from the centralisation promised by nationalism? “The people?
No. The upper classes.” It was “simply a form of bourgeois exploitation
under the protection of bayonets.” (quoted 56) As Prichard notes, an
“understanding of the class basis of politics was central to
[Proudhon’s] understanding the possibilities and problems inherent in
the unification” demanded by nationalist movements. (144) The notion of
some that we are solely indebted to Marx for class analysis does a
disservice to earlier socialists like the French anarchist.
Talking of Marx, Prichard’s discussion of Proudhon’s critique of
nationalism provokes the reader to consider the paradox of Marx’s
position, namely that the centralised bourgeois state was creating the
preconditions of socialism – why would the weapons forged by the
bourgeoisie to secure its rule “become champions of the socialist
cause”? (57) It has not turned out that way and bourgeois rule seems
more secure than ever in our era of centralised nation states. As
Proudhon concluded, the Jacobin vision of a centralised republic
rendered “liberty impossible and the Revolution illusionary.” (quoted
149) Nationalism, however, allowed the ruling classes “to avoid the
question of economic disenfranchisement and exploitation, uniting a
people in heritage while eliding material inequality or explaining it
away in terms of a necessary evil in the interests of the good of the
nation as a whole. In practice this meant the poor being dominated by
the rich.” Nationalism is, ironically, “the executioner of
nationalities” (54) as, for Proudhon, centralisation would “erase any
kind of indigenous character in the various localities of a country.”
(quoted 54)
Prichard’s book reminds us how important Proudhon’s grasp of class and
its impact is on his analysis, something that is often overlooked. He
“opposed to any project of unification that did not place socialism at
its heart.” (54) Regardless of the claims of some, Proudhon was well
aware that capitalism was an exploitative system marked by class
inequalities which had to be ended to achieve real, meaningful, freedom
for all. Prichard deserves to be thanked for bringing to the fore this
aspect of his ideas, given how many secondary sources paint a radically
different picture.
In addition Prichard also gives a useful summary of Proudhon’s ideas on
justice, noting that he argued that “our conscience, while socially
formed, is our nonetheless.” It is “historically and socially formed”
but “our moral feeling comes from within us.” (99) Thus there is an
interplay between our natures and external conditions, a position which
reflects the current work on the evolution of ethics popularised in
Richard Dawkins’ The God Delusion. Kropotkin in Ethics discussed these
aspects of Proudhon’s legacy and, as Prichard notes, these “have been
taken up again in contemporary primatology” in its discussions on “what
in human action is innate and what nurtured through social life.” (100)
That the human race does seem have an (evolved) intrinsic sense of
justice would not come as a surprise of the Frenchman and given his
recognition that societies evolve (for example, System of Economic
Contradictions) we can be sure that, like Kropotkin, he would have
embraced Darwinian theory. This is an area of research which should be
pursued further.
In contrast, developments in science have not treated Marx’s comment
that Proudhon “does not know that the whole of history is nothing but a
continuous transformation of human nature” well.[8] While Proudhon
acknowledged that different circumstances and systems bring forth
different aspects of human nature, he did not share Marx’s belief that
we were a blank slate waiting to be shaped by the forces of history
(whether economic or more prosaic). The more sophisticated Marxists
undoubtedly recognise the pre-Darwinian nature of Marx’s glib comment
but that rarely makes them take Proudhon any more seriously than the
others.
To conclude: barring a few minor issues, this is an excellent book which
will benefit all those who read it, whether seeking an introduction to
IR or the ideas of Proudhon. Proudhon may be flawed both as a person and
politically, but he defined anarchism both negatively (opposition to
state and capitalism) and positively (vision of a bottom-up, federated,
self-managed society and economy created by working class people
themselves). Prichard’s book will help us remember why Proudhon was
Europe’s leading socialist thinker in his lifetime and why the likes of
Bakunin, Kropotkin and Rocker were so influenced by him.
[1] Oeuvres Complètes [Lacroix edition] 13: 223
[2] “There will no longer be nationality, no longer fatherland, in the
political sense of the words: they will mean only places of birth.
Whatever a man’s race or colour, he is really a native of the universe;
he has citizen’s rights everywhere.” (Property is Theft! A Pierre-Joseph
Proudhon Anthology [Edinburgh/Oakland: AK Press, 2011], Iain McKay
(ed.), 597)
[3] “L’esclavage et le prolétariat.”, Third Part, Chapter IX, Oeuvres
Complètes [Lacroix edition] 8: 227–34. Translated by Ian Harvey at:
[4] Oeuvres Complètes 8: 232
[5] See my “Neither Washington nor Richmond: Proudhon on Racism and the
Civil War”, Anarcho-Syndicalist Review, Number 60, Summer 2013.
[6] This raises a trivial issue, namely Prichard quoting Proudhon using
the term “corporation”. (146) He unfortunately does not note that the
Frenchman did not mean the capitalist company but rather a federation of
workers’ co-operatives. He presents, as noted, Proudhon’s ideas well so
the reader should be able to work that out for themselves but explicitly
noting this would have been wise.
[7] Which raises the question, why Prichard talks of Rousseau’s state of
nature “based on a-social individualism, or an anarchy as we now know
it”? (73)
[8] The Poverty of Philosophy (Chicago: Charles H. Kerr, 1920), 160