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Title: Guy Aldred Subtitle: bridging the gap between Marxism and anarchism Date: 2011 Source: *Journal of Political Ideologies*, Volume 16, 2011 â Issue 1. DOI: 10.1080/13569317.2011.540950 Authors: Ruth Kinna Topics: History, Biography Published: 2020-12-10 14:32:05Z
This article examines the political thought of the socialist campaigner, Guy Aldred, in order to reflect on divisions between anarchism and social democracy in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Aldredâs thought drew on a diverse range of ideas and he labelled this rich synthesis communism. Believing that his position captured the best of Marxist and anarchist traditions, he argued that socialist factionalism was based on a distortion of Marxâs work and that the relationship between Marxism and anarchism was properly understood as the one between the head and heart of the movement. His claim not only subsumed the anarchist critique of social democracy into Marxism but it also relied on a system of classification which undercut the creative tensions in his political thinking.
Some historical figures are deservedly neglected but Guy Aldred is not one of them. His influence, thought not extensive, is important.[1] Although Aldred is a problematic figure in many ways, his attempt to carve a niche for himself as a non-aligned revolutionary socialist in the early 20th century was significant. What Nicholas Walter called his âmain problemââthat âhe belonged to no viable organisationâ[2]âis precisely what sheds important light on the nature of socialist factionalism, illuminating the difficulty of bridging the gap between Marxism and anarchism. Moreover, Aldredâs defence of individualism and the centrality of his activism provide a useful vantage point from which to observe contemporary divisions within anarchism. For all these reasons, Aldred deserves to be rescued from obscurity. In this article, after a brief biographical sketch, I analyse his political thought and the development of his communism, placing it in the context of the important dispute about federalism and individualism which divided Marxists and anarchists in the years leading up to the First World War.
Aldred was born in London in 1886 and died in Glasgow in 1963, just before his 77th birthday. By the time of this death some of his would-be comrades thought that he was living in something of a time warp. Albert Meltzer left this portrait:
He was an old-fashioned socialist agitator, who struck to Victorian-type knickerbockers ⊠rather than trousers, and who early in life conceived his career as a professional street-corner speaker. It is something now inconceivable, and reliance on collections ⊠made for a hard struggle with poverty for most of his days âŠ[3]
The trajectory of Aldredâs career was also rather Victorian. He began as an evangelical Christian encouraged by his anti-militarist and freethinking maternal grandfather to study and read widely. At school, he joined the Anti-Nicotine League to become a ârecruiting agentâ for the Band of Hope and Total Abstinence Movement.[4] In 1902, he extended his activities to anti-war propaganda, adopting the title of the âHolloway boy preacherâ of the Christian Social Mission, an evangelical organization he founded with John Willoughby Masters, the self-styled âLyrical Gospel Herald.â[5] However, Aldredâs evangelism did not prevent him from challenging Victorian moral codes. In 1907, he met Rose Witcop. Flouting convention they practiced the principle of free love, marrying in 1926, long after the experiment had collapsed, only because she was threatened with deportation.[6] Against the moralizing tone of Aldredâs writings, Rose represents perhaps the most refreshing and libertarian aspect of his life. The younger sister of Milly Witcop (the lifelong companion of Rudolf Rocker) was a committed feminist and at no little cost put up with the social stigma of being a single mother. Swept along by ideas of social revolution, Aldred campaigned with her to spread information about contraception and the evils of bourgeois marriage law and was particularly concerned to tie socialism to womenâs emancipation. Yet there were limits to his libertarianism, while both rejected the womenâs suffrage campaign as reformist Aldred, unlike Rose, had a natural inclination to monogamy and cherished an ideal of chaste socialist partnership.[7] Moreover, he combined the spirit of social experimentation with a disturbing sense of his own infallibility.
John Caldwell, Aldredâs biographer, described him as âa man of true genius who vigorously and untiringly devoted his life to the enlightenment and uplifting of the people and to the bringing about of socialism.â[8] For those less devoted, his enthusiasms could wear thin. His pun on his surnameââthe man they all dreadââaptly pointed to his troubled relationship with his comrades. He joined the Social Democratic Federation in March 1905 but resigned less than 2 years later. Gravitating towards the anarchist Freedom Group, he got on well with some anarchists and greatly admired Errico Malatesta[9] but described the majority as a feckless bunch. By 1907, he had severed his ties with both wings of the socialist movement and started to call himself a communist, a term which was still little used at the time. In this, he was inspired by the example of William Morris[10] who, he said, had meant it to describe âworld harmony, social love, service and commonweal.â[11] While Aldredâs temperament was hardly in tune with all these ideals, he shared the vision of socialism they evoked.
The principles on which he grounded his actions grew from his strong need to find purpose in life. Aldred described his intellectual development as the âgrowth in freedomâ of his own mind, but his account actually suggests that it involved the discovery of an existing tendency as much as a gradual enlightenment. His story is the development of an âinward allegianceâ of a truth seeker, looking for âa philosophy that was progressive, yet definite and certain.â[12] At its heart was an idiosyncratic religious commitment.
Even at the height of his evangelism, Aldred never espoused an orthodox Christian faith: his study of world religions, his friendship with the theist Charles Voysey and his attraction to Thomas Huxley led him from Anglicanism to atheism, without forcing any open rupture. His mature view was that it was possible to question the existence of a deity and the historical existence of Jesus but remain a Christian: the fact of Jesusâ existence was less important than his teachings; and since God was an idea that came from within the minds of men, it was important to distinguish faith in the possibility of living a Christian life from belief in a divine being. The former was a positive, motivating force but the latter encouraged dull submission. Indeed, associating the belief in God with theology, miracles and superstition, Aldred declared, âGod never did, never will and never can exist.â[13]
Initially, Aldredâs religiosity was romantic and conservative. Later, he combined romanticism with radical dissent. Having taken to âheresy with all sincerity,â[14] as he subsequently put it, he gave up Toryism in favour of materialist free thought and so descended from âthe world of cloudland to that of matter, of social life and struggle.â[15] In all this, religion remained a powerful influence and it lent his socialism a visionary, crusading and dissenting character.
Aldred described his vision of socialism as the realization of equality, mutual aid, freedom, justice and social peace, in short: âthe kingdom of heaven on earth into which the rich cannot enter.â[16] Unlike Morris, Aldred was not interested in describing this picture and he tended instead to think in terms of a process of ethical development. As he put it: âthe drawing out, in the sense of cultivation, of the inspirational part of manâs character, whereby men are led to forget the limitations of their material environments in their realization of their oneness with all phenomena.â[17] Vision, he argued, was nothing without the possibility of achievement. His view lent his socialism a purposive, crusading character. Here too, religion was the inspiration. Christianity, he argued, âcannot be shut up in a few lines of abstract and ridiculous creed.â It is âa declaration of fire, light, freedom âŠâ[18] To make it real, it needed enthusiasts like himâpreachersâwho were not only prepared to spread the Word but also put up with the âscorn and abuseâ that genuine commitment to cause was likely to bring. Aldredâs grandfather had once asked him to reflect on the âlofty heroism, the enduring patience, the unselfish love and the perfect sweetness in serviceâ that Shelleyâs âtragic story of Prometheus inspired.â[19] Aldred did and found in it a âcentral ethic of brotherhood and service.â[20] To adopt this ethic was to engage in action. Service, he remarked, âmakes life not a worship but a struggleâ because it was driven by âpeace of conscienceâ and âunyielding martyrdom.â[21] To show that these demands could be met by ordinary people, Aldred devoted much of his writing to recounting the lives and experiences of virtuous fightersâfrom the Marian martyrs to the nameless conscientious objectors with whom he campaigned in two World Wars. Most were unknown and they came from different classes and social backgrounds. Tom Dowd, the subject of one of Aldredâs essays, was a common criminal. The common bond he identified in them was their rebellious character and willingness to endure hardship for the sake of principle.
Aldredâs celebration of socialist service was combined with a third element: dissent. As a self-styled heretic, Aldred was also an ethical voluntarist who abhorred the idea of coercion. It was one thing to point out individualsâ errors, quite another to force them down the road to redemption. Smokers and drinkers might be told that their âhabits are injuriousâ but, he insisted, his own abstinence âhad no bigotryâ about it.[22] To support this position, he identified reason as his âsupreme guide,â meaning not what he called the âFreethinkersâ abstract âreason,â but individual conscience.[23] He elaborated his idea through Descartes but claimed that the philosopher had ânever understood his own maximâ or its radical implications. âCogito, ergo sumâ for Aldred was a âdefinition of the ⊠unchallengeable integrity of the individual.â No man who had âsufficient courage to accept as the keynote of his life ⊠âI think, therefore I amââ could ever be âa slave ⊠(or) victimised or imposed upon by any system of authority or oppression.â[24] This conviction became a guiding principle which he eagerly applied to adults and children alike. For example, he resigned from the Social Democratic Federation because he thought the partyâs support for Socialist Sunday Schools was an attempt to impose âMarxism upon the childâs mind.â[25] Though he believed it was his duty to effect social transformation, he claimed to rely solely on âexample and personal integrity ⊠in the power of moral suasion and very simple, very direct propaganda.â[26] Having cast himself in the role of âMinister of the Gospel of Revolt,â he expected others to do likewise: â(e)ach one of us should, and must, belong to ourselves.â[27]
Drawing on these visionary, crusading and dissenting principles, Aldred developed a form of socialism that was both radically anti-statist and evolutionary.
Aldredâs anti-statism recalled Tom Paine who, he claimed, had been the first to argue that âthe abolition of formal governmentâ was the âbeginning of true association.â[28] He rejected the state on both functional and organizational grounds. The stateâs function was to fleece âor blackmail the capitalist classâ in order to provide âa standing army, navy, judicial bench, etc.â[29] All states were instruments of class exploitation and the constitution of government was irrelevant to this function. The difference between âthe crowned Monarch in England, the sceptred Emperor in Germany (sic) and the uncrowned President of the United Statesâ was only one of the forms: in each case, government was a reflection of class power and its character in the state was always the same.[30]
In its organization, the stateâs âbureaucratic institutionâ supported âtyranny and expertism.â These were not merely facets of economic exploitation. Even assuming that the basic precondition for communismââsocial ownership based on social production and distributionââwas met, socialists would still need to address the organization of the stateâs âhistorically evolved administrative function.â The abandonment of the bourgeois stateâs legislative and judicial systems would not lessen this necessity.[31] Aldred warned here that âthe representatives of administrationâ might âso control industry and education as to become the monopolisers of its advantage.â[32] Such socialism would merely perpetuate class rule, grounding advantage in position rather than ownership.
While Aldredâs critique left open the possibility that socialists might detach the principle of government from the function of the state, his concerns about âexpertismâ pointed to a form of decision making that would look very different from existing governmental systems. Indeed, Aldred argued that the representative institutions of parliamentary government could never provide a model. Representation meant majoritarianism and it was simply a cover for coercion. At its heart was the fallacy that decision makers could speak on behalf of others. He found a working alternative model in industrial unionism and expressed broad sympathy with the Industrial Workers of the World (IWW) and, later, with the Spanish CNT. However, Aldred did not consider himself a syndicalist. Having âno faith in the majority, less unbelief in the minority and most reliance in the individual,â[33] he was suspicious of the scale of syndicalist organization and he rejected the idea of âone big unionâ touted in the early decades of the 20th century. Moreover, while he preferred small workshop units to protect against reformism,[34] he believed that even this form of association still fell short of meeting his religious, visionary needs.[35] Its followers understood that socialism âapplies a materialistic analysis to societyâ but wrongly âignored ⊠the need for Idealism.â Socialism âinvolves loveâ; it âis harmony,â Aldred declared.[36] Again turning to Morris for inspiration he argued, âThere can be no talk of working-class political power ⊠There must be an end of political power if the workers are to be free.â[37]
Aldredâs faith in the possibility of socialism rested on a specific concept of change. This fused an instinctive Hegelianism with a broad commitment to historical materialism. Aldredâs general view was informed by a feeling âthat belief in change represented the stream of life: yet the change must express a stability of purpose, have direction, and not be so much drifting.â[38] With his discovery of economics and sociology, this intuition led him quickly to conclude that âpolitical changes have occurred âsimultaneously with economic changes in society.ââ[39] At the same time, Aldred sought to go beyond materialism and combine his view of change with a concept of ethical development. Here, he borrowed from both Kropotkin and Nietzsche.
Aldred claimed that his interest in evolution was inspired by T.H. Huxleyâs Romanes lecture of 1893, the lecture which also influenced the development of Kropotkinâs theory of mutual aid. However, Aldredâs repeated references to Huxleyâs work were taken from an earlier essay, âGovernment: Anarchy or Regimentation.â Aldred appears to have misunderstood Huxleyâs essay as an endorsement of anarchy, when in fact it presented a critique.[40] He added to the confusion by misinterpreting Kropotkin. Kropotkin had taken issue with Huxleyâs claim that the natural world was âred in tooth and clawâ and argued that the social ethic which Huxley associated with civilization and the struggle against nature was in reality a factor of evolution which might be realized in anarchy. Ignoring Kropotkinâs criticisms of Huxleyâs characterization of nature, Aldred focused on Huxleyâs treatment of âethical fitness.â As a result, he wrongly suggested that Huxleyâs work lent scientific support to the idea of anarchy (and, indeed, to Kropotkinâs idea of anarchy) and that he subscribed to an evolutionary theory which grounded ethics in nature.[41] Aldred agreed with Kropotkin that the expression of socialist ethics was environmentally conditioned and he shared Kropotkinâs view that altruistic behaviours were motivated by egoism, remarking that â(w)e incline to abolish suffering because pain to others occasions agony for ourselves.â[42] However, his conception of environment and ethics was different. Aldred linked socialist ethics to a process through which âthe individual ability and power to surviveâ would be reconciled with âthe evolution of the social instinct and the desire to serveâ; a process of harmonization leading individuals to perform certain functions in the social organism.[43] In contrast, Kropotkin argued that mutual aidâthe anarchist ethicâwas an instinct which supported co-operative behaviours that the environment might encourage or inhibit.
Aldred identified education as the mechanism for evolutionary social practice. His view chimed in with Morrisâs, particularly the policy of âmaking socialists,â but it was also tied to his own biography and whereas Morris linked education to moral behaviour, specifically the shift from competitiveness to fellowship, Aldred associated it with revelation and the acquisition of practical skills. Education described both the ability to grasp the truth and the possibility of applying acquired knowledge to redress the injustices that it made plain. John Caldwell described Aldredâs conception as Orwellian: âIn a time of universal deceit, telling the truth is a revolutionary act.â Adding a new twist to Marxâs prediction that capitalism would create its own gravediggers, Aldred further located the dynamic for learning in the capitalist system. The âcapitalist environmentâ he argued, ânot only favours, but creates the Communist.â[44] In order to feed its need for capable workers, capitalism educated the masses, thus undermining the position of the expert. As Aldred put it, the âevolution of the capitalistic educational system has prepared a minimum educational basis for the future society to start from, which is founded on an ever-increasing negation of expertism.â[45] The brilliance of this account of educational development was that it underwrote the promise of socialist equality; its weakness, which Aldred seems to have acknowledged, was that the analysis was not entirely persuasive. As if attempting to convince himself of the truth of capitalismâs demise, he resorted to defending evolution negatively. The possibility that he might be wrong about learning was simply too horrible to contemplate:
The psychological guarantee against expertism will be found in the contempt with which all men will regard it, and the tendency to excellence of administration will be reposed in the admiration which all men will have for efficiency. Should this possibility still meet with opposition on the ground that such a central directing authority, finding its embodiment in a collective will, would not find legal oppression incongruous with its industrial basis, one can only conclude that either humanity is inherently bad and progress an impossibility, or else that in a system of absolute individualism must humanityâs hope lie.[46]
Aldredâs individualism was the final plank in his understanding of ethical change. If his original concept had been shaped first by his freethinking background, it was with Nietzsche that Aldred identified as a socialist, but a Nietzsche read through a Darwinian lens. Nietzsche took the âself-preservation instinct which all recognise as being the first law of nature ⊠to be the last law of ethics.â[47] In contrast to neo-Darwinians like Spencer, who adopted this law to defend competitive free markets, inequality and servitude, Nietzsche, he argued, used it to provide critique of domination, exploitation and oppression. In the idea of the superman Nietzsche had elaborated an ideal in which individuals â(f)reed from the desire and the economic power to dominate ⊠would be neither dominator nor dominated.â With each having âdifferent traits,â the lack of officialdom would âspell freedom, variety, and consequent genius.â[48] Aldredâs reading was idiosyncratic but his attraction to Nietzsche tapped into the important avant-garde trends that developed within anarchism in the period leading up to 1914. Emma Goldmanâs anarchism drew on similar influences. Alfred Orageâs introductions to Nietzsche appeared in 1904â1907; and although Aldred was a contributor to Dora Marsdenâs increasingly Stirnerite **New Freewoman** rather than Orageâs **New Age**,[49] his claim that Nietzsche ârealised that Socialism must inevitably be identical with absolute individual freedomâ was uncontroversial in both of these circles.[50] Aldredâs effort to inject a religious sensibility into Nietzscheâs work was more unusual, for even though Tolstoyâs work encouraged some to explore the possibilities of a Nietzschean Christian anarchism, Aldredâs interpretation was firmly rooted in the religion of his youth. On his account, Nietzsche was a visionary and a âherald of revoltâ who stood in the tradition of the heretical martyrs, dissenters and conscientious objectors he so admired.
To summarize, Aldredâs communism was predicated on an idea of dialectical development in which class struggle, capitalist collapse and economic change, together with enlightenment and knowledge, would give rise to the expression of natural sociability and the realization of individual freedom in a condition of statelessness. His political theory drew on an impressively wide range of influences and, even though his interpretations are sometimes problematic, his attempt to combine them sheds interesting light on the currents of socialist thought. However, Aldred is interesting not just because of the way he synthesized these currents but also because of the ideological terms he used to describe his position. The way in which Aldred situated himself in the political spectrum raises some enduring questions about the status of Marxist theory in socialist thought and, as I will now argue, about the distinctive contribution to revolutionary socialism made by anarchism.
After cutting his ties with the Freedom circle in 1907, Aldred was involved with a number of groups: the Industrial Union of Direct Action, the Communist Propaganda Group, the Glasgow Communist Group and, between 1921 and 1934, the Anti-Parliamentary Communist Federation.[51] Although the Glasgow Communist Group co-operated closely with the longer established Anarchist Group, all these groups were non-aligned. The success of the Bolshevik revolution in 1917 and the subsequent identification of communism with the Soviet system, or what Aldred called âdictatorship and totalitarian oppression, assassination and darkness,[52] complicated the parameters of Aldredâs early non-alignment. But in the period leading up to 1914, these were marked by the ideological poles of social democracy and anarchism. In this context, non-alignment did not indicate neutrality or aloofness. On the contrary, Aldred broadly accepted the anarchist critique of social democracy and his decision to label himself âcommunistâ symbolized his belief that the gap between the two wings of the socialist movement could be bridged. Outlining the debate between social democrats and anarchistsâwhich were well rehearsed in the socialist pressâreveals the space that Aldred sought to occupy and helps explain how communism brought these two socialist traditions together.
In the 10 years before 1907, when Aldred defined his position as an independent, relations between social democrats and anarchists had soured appreciably. Some historians trace the roots of the division to the 1871 dispute between Bakunin and Marx in the First International. Others go even further back and suggest that it was Marxâs falling out with Proudhon some 20 years before which marked the start of the split.[53] As G.D.H. Cole notes, the causes of the disagreement were both more proximate and more dramatic. The key event was the **affaire Millerand** of 1889, which brought into sharp focus the question of whether socialists could legitimately participate in bourgeois institutions. Its immediate trigger was the resolution of the 1893 Zurich Congress of the Second International, which committed working class organizations to political action and resulted 3 years later in what Edward Marx-Aveling celebrated as the final âcasting out of the anarchistsâ in London.[54] Avelingâs remark that the expulsion of the anarchists had been âwell worth working 3 years forâ shows how tensions had been building.[55] Nevertheless, the exclusion of the anarchists caught many participants by surprise. The so-called non-parliamentary socialistsâthose who had refused to align themselves either to anarchism or to social democracyâwere appalled to see how a policy difference was made into a test of ideological commitment.[56] The attempt to narrow the definition of socialism to mean social democracy alone and to outlaw anarchism was also fiercely criticized.[57] Critics like Keir Hardie condemned this reduction and ridiculed the result as âcast-iron socialism,â a reference, perhaps, to its seeming Prussian inflexibility.[58] Proponents of parliamentary action also recognized the significance of the division. âJustice,â the paper of the Social Democratic Federation, argued that forcing non-parliamentary socialists to give up their âuntenable ⊠positionâ and finally âchoose sidesâ was a positive result of the decision.[59] The extent of the polarization was also indicated by the intolerant language adopted. **Justice** no longer treated anarchism as a strain of socialism; nor did it merely distinguish anarchism from socialismâit now identified anarchists as the enemies of social democracy. In August 1896, one correspondent to **Justice** expressed his disappointment at finding the âlanguage of the capitalist press repeated in a Socialist journal.â He complained that the editors had been wrong to describe anarchist tactics as âblackleg and blackguardly.â[60]
In the aftermath of the 1896 London Congress, differences between social democrats and anarchists touched on a number of core questions: the relationship of socialism to science and utopianism; the nature of socialist organization and the relationship between capitalism, socialist transformation and modernization; the process of revolutionary change and the use of terrorist methods. For Aldred, two ideas were of particular importance: federalism and individualism. Recalling his initial attraction to anarchism, he wrote,
It must not be concluded that I was any less a Socialist because I called myself an Anarchist. I definitely accepted the principle of Federalism as opposed to Centralism, and I did not believe that Individualism was opposed either to Socialism or to Democracy. On the contrary, I believed that Individualism must be asserted and defended in the interests of Socialism and as a cardinal principle of Democracy.â[61]
<em>Justice</em> treated both principles with suspicion because, as Aldred observed, it saw them as synonyms for anarchism. Individualism, in particular, came under sustained and systematic critique. In the words of one correspondent to <em>Justice</em>, it ran counter to âorganisation and true policyâ and âagreement on a practical programmeâ which genuine socialists recognized.[62] Because they were individualists, he continued, anarchists rejected authority and, indeed, all forms of association. They refused â(c)ombination, organisation (and) unityâ and, believed that âthese words imply government of some kind hurtful to the ego.â[63] <em>Justice</em> recognized that individualism was contested in anarchist circles and that âanarcho-communistsâ typically rejected individualist positions. Yet the paper argued that whatever prefix they might attach to their name, all anarchists defended the absolute interests of the individual. That made co-operation impossible. It gave what it claimed was the essence of the anarchist view:
The Anarchist, with all his denunciations of authority, does believe in authorityâautocratic authority, the authority which any individual can impose upon any community or assembly, that is, the authority which the Anarchist favours. The authority he does not believe in is democratic authority, authority constituted by the will of the community, that is anathema ⊠to the Anarchist.[64]
In reinforcing this point, leading international theorists of social democracy used Stirner and Nietzsche as Aunt Sallies.[65] William Liebknecht, for example identified Stirner as the âfather of modern Anarchism,â dismissing âBakounin (sic.), Proudhon and the latest day saints of Anarchismâ (all influential figures in the European labour movement) as âmere pigmiesâ by comparison.[66] As one contributor to the anarchist paper **The Torch** noted, the focus on Stirner was a convenient half-truth since it allowed social democrats to forge a link between anarchism and certain forms of laissez-faire capitalism which claimed to take inspiration from his work.[67] Liebknecht pressed this point:
There is, in fact, nothing in common between Anarchism and Socialism. Anarchismâif it is not altogether a senseless phraseâhas individualism for its basis; that is, the same principle on which capitalist society rests, and therefore it is essentially reactionary, however hysterical may be its shrieks of revolution.[68]
Nietzsche was used in a similar way. In November 1896 a leader in **Justice** presented Nietzsche as an advocate of the âstruggle for existence and the survival of the fittest, the rule of force and cunning.â âJustice, sympathy, self-control and all the so-called virtues,â the paper noted, were for him âso many arbitrary restraints on the indefeasible right of every man to do what he pleases where and when he can.â Nietzscheâs statement of the Anarchist âtheory of the sovereignty of the individualâ was unusual for the âsimplicity of nakedness,â the leader argued, but in other respects it provided an accurate account.[69] Even writers like E.B. Bax, who was otherwise sensitive to anarchist concerns about liberty and who clearly distinguished anarchist socialism from liberal free-market voluntarism, argued that anarchists treated individual freedom as a âholy dogma of the abstract freedom or autonomy of the individual at all times and in all cases.â[70]
The social democratsâ rejection of anarchist federalism was an elaboration of their critique of individualism and it boiled down to the claim that anarchy was chaotic because anarchists were incapable of recognizing, still less working for a common interest. The critique did not imply a rejection of federalism altogether, and most social democrats fiercely rejected the term âstate socialismâ which anarchists used to describe their position. In fact some, including Bax, called themselves federalists. But they rejected the decentralized communal federalism proposed by the anarchists as unworkable. At issue here was not the possibility of order but its quality. In an examination of the Cecilia community in Palmira, Brazil, one social democrat reported that the anarchists had succeeded in showing âthat men could live without masters and without law.â The community had no âtable of hoursâ or âassemblies of the residents.â It had abandoned rules, laws, officials, majority votes and programmes. Moreover, âall work was voluntary and freely chosen.â Yet for all this abandonment of regulation, anarchy was far from paradise. In Cecilia âpublic opinionâ was âan unsparing and almost tyrannical force.â Individuals were hardly free; and despite their industriousness, their effort still âkept them poor.â Because of the failure to devise common rules, anarchy was nasty and cold and, if not brutish, probably short. The important lesson was that âit is not by individual effort that we shall conquer nature.â No âamount of enthusiasm and ability can build up a new civilization, unless there is also subordination, organisation and a regular industrial code.â[71]
The anarchist response to this was to attack parliamentarism and political action. Parliamentarianism, they argued, was based on a misconception of the state. It was politically flawed because it identified the state with government. Even assuming that individual representatives of the working class could resist the psychological appeal of powerâwhich most anarchists doubtedâparliamentarism aimed at the achievement of a narrowly political revolution, centred on the seizure of government power, when what was required was a social transformation that would challenge the cultural norms that the state upheld. To make this point **Freedom** quoted Ibsen. Politicians, he explained, âonly desire partial revolutions, revolutions in externals, in politics. But these are mere trifles. There is only one thing that availsâto revolutionise peoplesâ minds.â[72]
Furthermore, parliamentarism indicated that the social democratic concept of the state was sociologically flawed. Here, anarchists argued that parliamentarianism required the adoption of organizational forms that replicated the very structures they wanted to destroy. As Malatesta put it, the âgendarmes of Bebel, Liebknecht and JaurĂšs always remain gendarmes. Whoever controls them will always be able to keep down and massacre the proletariat.â[73] The historical analysis that supported this view, pioneered by Proudhon and developed by Kropotkin, highlighted the tendency of the state to expand its area of influence in the domestic realm and to militarize the international system. It assumed the existence of a historic free realm into which the state was continuing to expand its competence. Anarchists aimed at resisting both this expansion and the new models of organizationâbureaucratic, representative and centralizedâthat it threatened. Their criticism of social democracy was that it was so narrowly preoccupied with questions of ownership that it failed to appreciate this equally significant aspect of state development. An analysis published in **The Torch** suggested that â(w)hat passes for labor organization amongst State socialists, Labor parties, present-day Trade Unions etc. is not an organization of the men but really of the bosses and misleaders to keep their slaves in their slavery.â The author continued,
The governments from Social Democrats to Tories base their so-called organization on forms and majority rules with the result that all the organized are the exploited dupes of the organizers; and are driven here and there like cattle.[74]
Anarchists described the social dynamics of their organizational alternatives differently. ElisĂ©e Reclus suggested that anarchy would be constructed on a yearning for co-operation and an overlapping consciousness of purpose: âa wonderful unity in thoughts, sentiments, and the desire to be free.â[75] By contrast, J.A. Andrews argued that individual interest played the crucial organizing role, safeguarding individuals from majoritarianism and/or the adoption of programmes for collective action.[76] But there was consensus that the revolution promised by social democracy would, at best, result in a liberal radical programme of reform and, at worst, a highly disciplined, rigidly controlled system of oppression. The optimistic view was that âSocialism âmade in Germanyââ would bring freedom of worship, universal suffrage, national education, equal rights, public utilities, protective employment legislation and an international court to arbitrate international disputes.[77] Pessimistically, the anarchists feared that these liberal rights would be tied to a duty to recognize âas an absolute truth the complete submission of the individual to the Stateâ; and that the achievement of these goals would result in âState-monopoly in the organisation of the whole economic life of the nation with âobligatory work for all,â and âthe raising of a working army, especially for agriculture.ââ[78]
In these debates, Aldred was clearly not on the side of social democracy. His critique of the state dovetailed with Malatestaâs; not only was his concern with social revolution anarchistic but his embrace of Nietzsche, his rejection of representation, his interest in non-statist principles of organization and his fierce defence of the individual all suggest a deep dissatisfaction with social democratic thinking. Admittedly, Aldred was also an anti-utopian and, taking his lead from Daniel De Leon, he dismissed all attempts to consider alternatives to state organization as âchildishâ speculation.[79] Nevertheless, this difference hardly weighed against his disagreements with the social democrats. Why, then, did Aldred shy away from calling himself an anarchist and prefer communist, instead? The reason is that he thought that anarchism threatened to deepen an unnecessary rift and to conceal the fundamental theoretical unity of revolutionary socialism. Moreover, whereas the anarchists traced the failures of social democracy to Marx, Aldred dismissed social democracy (and later Soviet communism) as a perversion of Marxism and identified Marx as his most significant influence.
The basis for this identification and its implications for Aldredâs understanding of anarchism emerge in a review of the relationship between Bakunin and Marx which suggests a creative interplay between generations of socialist thinkers: Bakunin, he argued, was âProudhon adulterated by Marx and Marx expounded by Proudhon.[80] At first sight, this almost seems to anticipate Daniel Cohn-Benditâs conception of âleftismâ as progressive critical review: Marx against Proudhon, Bakunin against Marx, Makhno against Bolshevism and the studentâworkersâ movement against the âtransformation and development of the Russian Revolution into a bureaucratic counter-revolution, sustained and defended by Communist parties throughout the world.â[81] Yet the similarity is misleading since unlike Cohn-Bendit, Aldred was not concerned to resist âossification.â On the contrary, he wanted to retrieve a particular reading of Marxâs thought and inject a concept of Bakuninism into it. Bakunin, he argued, was âan excellent guide, philosopher and friend to the cause of Communismâ when he spoke as a Marxist.[82]
In his keenness to stress Bakuninâs significance, Aldred noted that his writings âare replete with profound political thought and a clear philosophic conception of history âŠ.â[83] After the rise of Stalin, he reiterated this view. Agreeing wholeheartedly with Bakunin that the problem of the state was ultimately one of command, he argued that the terror of Soviet system arose from âa brutal claim to authority almost unbelievable in the name of Communism and Socialism.â More pointedly, returning to the ruins of the First International, he argued that Bakuninâs theoretical insights anticipated Soviet communismâs failings. Bakuninâs warning that âauthoritarian Communism ⊠would persecute like an autocratic or bureaucratic State,â he noted, had once been âviewed with scepticism.â But he had been vindicated by Stalinist practice. The development of the Soviet Union and the Third International proved that the âarguments of yesterday must be acknowledged as being right in their anticipation.â[84] At times Aldred went as far as to suggest that Marx had played a lesser role in the development of socialism than Bakunin. For example, he argued that in 1847, Marx had sounded âthe call of battle and revolutionary anti-parliamentarismâ identifying âhis work with the ideal and endeavour of Bakunin.â[85] In Bakuninâs defence, he also openly took issue with Kropotkinâs assertion âthat we must measure Bakuninâs influence not by his literary legacy ⊠but by the thought and action he inspired in his immediate disciples.â[86]
Nevertheless, Aldredâs claims about Bakuninâs theoretical brilliance were fragile and the general tenor of his argument suggested that his assessment of Bakunin was after all not so far removed from Kropotkinâs. More often than not, he identified Marx as the initiator of ideas and Bakunin as his practitioner. He noted while Marx was wasting his energy worrying about the anarchism of his sons-in-law, Lafargue and Longuet, âthe Anarchists, inspired by Bakunin⊠were putting their hearts and souls into the task of explaining and popularising the work of Marx.â[87] Central to Aldredâs view were Marxâs historical writings, particularly **The Eighteenth Brumaire** and the **Civil War in France**. These recorded âas a maturing and matured conviction of Marx, that the Social Republic is not the Parliamentary Republic; that Parliamentarism is ⊠the counter-revolution.â[88] Reflecting on the degeneration of Marxism into social democracy, Aldred advanced a similar point:
It has always seemed strange to me that the Marxists, whose economic explanation of politics or the State is correct, should have become, in practice, parliamentarians and pretend to believe that parliament controls industry. Proudhon, Bakunin and (Johann) Most, being Anarchists, might be forgiven did they deduce from their hatred of authority, some idea of warring against the State instead of economic conditions. In practice they adopt the correct attitude to wanting to liquidate the State in economic society ⊠Hence they conclude their propaganda as sound Marxians.â[89]
For all his originality, Aldred painted Bakunin as âthe word incarnateâânot the author of the word. At one with Marx âin purpose and in aspiration,â he was suited to the fulfilment of âdistinct tasks,â to serve âdifferent functionsâ and âfitted by temperament to enact a peculiar role âŠ.â[90] He continued,
Marx DEFINED the Social Revolution, whilst Bakunin EXPRESSED it. The first stood for the invincible logic of the cause. The second concentrated in his own person its unquenchable spirit. Marx was an impregnable rock of first principles, remorselessly composed of facts ⊠he was the immovable mountain of the revolution. Bakunin, on the other hand, was the tempest. He symbolised the coming flood.â[91]
Aldredâs dichotomy, between Marx the real theoretician and Bakunin the soul of socialism, was echoed in other assessments. He judged the reformism of Kautsky and Liebkecht, the architects of the policy of political action, by the standards of their theory, quoting their own youthful critiques of parliamentarism against them.[92] Anarchists, on the other hand, were assessed with reference to their personal talents and virtues and/or by their mistaken attempts to elaborate an anarchist theory.[93] For example, taking issue with Kropotkin once more, Aldred questioned his identification of âLocke, the timid, and Godwin, the Whig,â as the fathers of anarchism. This history of anarchist ideas simply missed the point: what was important in anarchism was what individuals did, not what they thought. Aldred used measures of action to chart his alternative story of British anarchist traditions. In it Richard Carlisle, the early 19th-century freethinker, âwhose reward for clear thinking was imprisonment,â was the real father of British anarchism. Godwin had no claim whatsoever since he was âbut a politician for all practical purposesâ and âa gentleman.â[94] Admittedly, Aldred also linked failures of social democracy to Marxâs personal weakness. He described Marx as an authoritarian who âslandered Bakuninâ and whose âpersonal vanity and domination detract seriously from his claim to our love as a man and a comrade.â[95] But given Aldredâs assumptions about Marxâs theoretical standing, this claim merely reinforced his leading idea that the anarchistsâ main role was to stand out against the Marxistsâ corruption of their own doctrineâto inoculate it against degeneration into social democracyâit was not to challenge that doctrine with a distinctive philosophy of their own.
One of the peculiarities of this argument is that it casts Bakunin, famous for his desire to abolish God, as a latter-day Jesus: a rebel who gave his life, through constant rebellion, in service to others. As Caldwell notes, âthe mighty Russianâ and the âgentle Nazareneâ enjoyed equal status in Aldredâs âhumanist pantheon.â[96] Using Bakunin to bridge the gap between anarchism and Marxism, Aldred suggested that it was the space left in socialism for religionâvoluntary service in the name of brotherhoodâthat anarchism filled.
Aldredâs understanding of communism was based on three claims: first, that the Marxism of the Second International and, later, of the Stalinist Soviet Union had nothing to do with Marxâs ideas and were outgrowths of the personal authoritarianismâor what he called the human egoismâof Marx; second, that anarchistsâthe Bakuninists, at leastâwere the activists that the Marxists ought to have been and third, that the anarchists added nothing of theoretical importance to left criticism. All of these claims are contestable and the last has been fiercely rejected: anarchists have often explained the invisibility of anarchism as a measure of the success with which non-anarchists have appropriated anarchist ideas. George Woodcock adopted this approach when he criticized Chomsky for inventing âlibertarian communismâ as a Marxist cover to steal the anarchistsâ clothes.[97] Nevertheless, some of Aldredâs ideas chime in with contemporary anarchist thinking. His treatment of Marx is similar to a distinction that John Clark has since articulated. Clark distinguishes between two aspects of Marxâs thought, one he calls the âpart ⊠most relevant to his dispute with Bakunin, and which ⊠has exerted the greatest influence on historyâ and the other which âone might well wish to have been of more historical importance.â[98] Some anarchists have even echoed Aldredâs much more contentious suggestion that anarchists have been the practitioners of socialism rather than the theorists. In 1968âa moment of anarchist revivalâCohn-Bendit was significantly identified as the student movementâs prime **personification**; Daniel GuĂ©rin described âDanyâ as the outstanding spokesman of â68 because, unlike his brother Gaby, he was âno anarchist theoreticianâ but someone in whom the âlibertarian fireâ blazed âin the highest degree.â[99] Recently, Graeber and Grubacic have argued that this âfireâ is still considered to be anarchismâs most distinctive contribution to socialism. In a discussion of âsmall-a anarchistsâ they note,
Marxism, then, has tended to be a theoretical or analytical discourse about revolutionary strategy. Anarchism has tended to be an ethical discourse about revolutionary practice. As a result, where Marxism has produced brilliant theories of praxis, itâs mostly been anarchists who have been working on the praxis itself.[100]
It seems unlikely that the continuing popularity of this idea owes much to Aldredâs influence. Nevertheless, his early formulation of the relationship usefully highlights its flaws. One important weakness of Aldredâs ideological re-packaging of the late 19th and early 20th-century debates was his assumption of theoretical cohesion among opponents of social democracy. The idea that the anarchists were Marxâs rightful heirs coupled with the claim that the relevant distinction between anarchists and Marxists turned on questions of practice blinded him to the specificity of his own theoretical position. It also convinced him that anarchist critiques of the state were irrelevant: they could be subsumed into an analysis of class power and bureaucracy and grounded in a theory of historical materialism. Aldred conceded that Bakuninâs warnings about the rise of authoritarian communism had been ridiculed. Unfortunately, because he had already decided that Bakuninâs significance lay solely in the strength of his convictions, he was not interested in interrogating the theoretical basis of these claims. Instead he argued that anarchism offered no solutions to socialists. Even if this was true, the memory of the anarchist critiques was surely worth preserving. Cohn-Bendit clearly thought so when he accused Lenin of âfailing to transcend the organizational level of the bourgeoisie.â[101]
A second weakness of Aldredâs bridge building was that it was shaped by a conviction that it is possible to establish the provenance of ideas in ways that the history of socialist ideas does not support. Since Aldredâs time, different terms have been chosen for the bridge: libertarian communism and communist egoism are two examples. But the process of bridge building tends to follow Aldredâs model. It is likely that Aldred would have been baffled by the current terms of anarchist debate and that he would have questioned the point of sorting anarchists into exclusive, self-contained âindividualist,â âsocial anarchistâ or âclass-struggleâ groupings. Having attempted to bring Nietzsche and Kropotkin together, he would have rejected the claim that questions of organization are somehow un-anarchist, regressive âimportsâ from Marxism. It seems likely that he would also have dismissed the counter-claim that a defence of individualism points only to a childish fondness for rebellion and/or that it places advocates beyond the anarchist tradition.[102] Aldredâs socialist theory might not have been persuasive, yet his efforts to engage with and synthesize complex currents of thought help to highlight the range and diversity of the influences active in pre-war radical and revolutionary circles. While the drift of socialism towards parliamentarism and later Sovietism helps explain his eagerness to bridge the gap between anarchism and Marxism, the ideological classification that he devised belied the genuinely rich, synthetic quality of his thinking and masked the anarchist critique of social democracy. The disappointment of Aldredâs work is not that he attempted to bridge the gap in socialist traditions, but that he failed to acknowledge the value of anarchismâs theoretical contribution.
I would like to thank Trevor Bark, Rory Beaton, Carl Levy and Alex Prichard and Sureyya Turkeli for encouragement and comments on earlier drafts of this paper. I am also grateful to JPIâs two reviewers.
; Notes
[1] For example, Stuart Christie cites him as an important early influence. Stuart Christie, âBuilding a library: anarchy,â **Independent on Sunday**, 24 July 2005, available at http://findarticles.com/p/articles/mi_qn4159/is_20050724/ai_n14806090 (accessed 20 May 2008).
[2] N. Walter, âGuy A. Aldred (1886â1963),â **The Raven**, 1(1) (1986), p. 82.
[3] A. Meltzer, **I Couldnât Paint Golden Angels** (Edinburgh/Oakland, CA: AK Press, 1996), Chapter 3, available at http://www.spunk.org/texts/writers/meltzer/sp001591/angels3.html (accessed 27 November 2009).
[4] G. Aldred, **Dogmas Discarded, part 1 in Essays in Revolt (hereafter ER)** 2 volumes (Glasgow: Strickland Press, 1940), p. 13. For Aldredâs life, see also J. T. Caldwell, **Come Dungeons Dark: The Life and Times of Guy Aldred, Glasgow Anarchist** (Barr, Ayrshire: Luath Press, 1988).
[5] Aldred, **ibid.**, p. 25.
[6] The relationship is discussed in G. Frost, âLove is always free: anarchism, free unions and utopianism in Edwardian England,â **Anarchist Studies**, 17(1) (2008), pp. 73â94.
[7] G. Aldred, âThe freewoman,â **The Herald of Revolt**, 2(3) (March 1912), p. 17.
[8] J. Caldwell, **A Tribute to Guy Alfred Aldred** (Hobnail Press, 2006), n.p.
[9] G. Aldred, âThe Malatesta outrage,â **The Herald of Revolt**, 2(6) (June 1912), p. 58.
[10] Aldred identified himself as a critical follower of Morris. See **Pioneers of Anti-Parliamentarism in ER**, pp. 11â20. Only a year before William Morrisâs death, H. B. Samuels argued that âcommunism is, as yet, not generally understood, even by many who are supposed to worship that ideal.â He described it as âa condition of society where there shall be perfect freedom in the economical and social relations of life ⊠(and) the extinction of the institution or idea of âprivate property.ââ H. B. Samuels, **A Contribution to Communism** (London: William Reeves, 1895), pp. 3â4.
[11] G. Aldred, **Studies in Communism in** **ER**, **op. cit**., Ref. 4, p. 4.
[12] Aldred, **op. cit.**, Ref. 4, p. 9.
[13] G. Aldred, **Dogmas Discarded, part 2**, **op. cit.**, Ref. 4, p. 25.
[14] Aldred, **op. cit.**, Ref. 4, p. 9.
[15] Aldred, **ibid.**, p. 18.
[16] Aldred, **ibid.**, p. 40.
[17] Aldred, **op. cit.**, Ref. 13, p. 28.
[18] Aldred, **op. cit.**, Ref. 4, p. 43.
[19] Aldred, **op. cit.**, Ref. 13, p. 19.
[20] Aldred, **op. cit.**, Ref. 4, p. 34.
[21] Aldred, **ibid.**, p. 40.
[22] Aldred, **ibid.**, p. 13.
[23] Aldred, **op. cit.**, Ref. 13, p. 45; Aldred, **op. cit.**, Ref. 4, p. 23.
[24] Aldred, **op. cit.**, Ref. 4, p. 10.
[25] Aldred, **op. cit.**, Ref. 13, p. 43.
[26] Aldred, **op. cit.**, Ref. 4, p. 18.
[27] Aldred, **op. cit.**, Ref. 10, p. 13.
[28] Aldred, **op. cit.**, Ref. 11, p. 33.
[29] Aldred, **ibid.**, p. 24.
[30] Aldred, **ibid.**
[31] Aldred, **ibid.**, p. 18.
[32] Aldred, **ibid.**, p. 19.
[33] Aldred, **Studies in Communism**, **op. cit.**, Ref. 4, p. 33.
[34] G. Aldred, âOur Glasgow lectures,â **The Herald of Revolt**, 2(9) (1912), 12 September, p. 95.
[35] Aldred, **op. cit.**, Ref. 13, p. 58.
[36] Aldred, **ibid.**, p. 59.
[37] Aldred, **op. cit.**, Ref. 10, p. 16.
[38] Aldred, **op. cit.**, Ref. 13, p. 26.
[39] G. Aldred, **Socialism and Parliament**, **part 2 in ER vol. II**, **op. cit.**, Ref, 4. p. 45.
[40] Aldred quoted Huxleyâs remark that âanarchy may be the highest conceivable grade of perfection of social existenceâ forgetting to note that Huxley concluded the discussion by declaring anarchy a sham and an illusion. See T. H. Huxley, âGovernment: anarchy or regimentation,â 1890, available at http://aleph0.clarku.edu/huxley/CE1/G-AR.html (accessed 27 November 2009).
[41] Aldred, **op. cit.**, Ref. 13, p. 38; Aldred, **op. cit.**, Ref. 11, p. 6.
[42] Aldred, **op. cit.**, Ref. 11, p. 7.
[43] Aldred, **ibid.**
[44] Aldred, **ibid.**
[45] Aldred, **ibid.**, p. 21.
[46] Aldred, **ibid.**
[47] G. Aldred, âFriedrich Nietzsche,â in John Moore and Spencer Sunshine (Eds) **I Am Not Man, I Am Dynamite! Friedrich Nietzsche and the Anarchist Tradition** (New York: Autonomedia, 2004), p. 9.
[48] Aldred, **ibid**., p. 10.
[49] Orage is discussed in T. Steele, **Alfred Orage and the Leeds Arts Club 1893â1923** (Aldershot: Scholar Press, 1990). For Marsden see L. Garner, **A Brave and Beautiful Spirit: Dora Marsden 1882â1960** (Aldershot: Gower Publishing, 1990); B. Clarke, **Dora Marsden and Early Modernism: Gender, Individualism, Science** (Ann Arbor, MI: University of Michigan Press, 1996); and L. Delap, **The Feminist Avant-Garde: Translatlantic Encounters of the Early Twentieth Century** (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007).
[50] Aldred, **op. cit.**, Ref. 47, p. 11.
[51] Two short pamphlets give a useful overview: J. T. Caldwell and M. Shipway, **An Introduction to Guy Alfred Aldred and Anti-Parliamentary Communist Federation** (Hobnail Press, 2006); B. Jones, **Anti-Parliamentarism and Communism in Britain 1917â21** (Pirate Press, 1991).
[52] Aldred, **op. cit.**, Ref. 11, p. 4.
[53] P. Thomas, **Karl Marx and the Anarchists** (London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1980), p. 317.
[54] G. D. H. Cole, **A history of socialist thought**, **vol. III part 1**, **The Second International 1889â1914** (London: St Martins Press, 1967), pp. xv, 26.
[55] E. Marx-Aveling, âA note on the International and the British Trade Union Congresses,â **Justice**, 19 September 1896, p. 6. The expulsion captured a range of revolutionary socialists, some of whom did not self-identify with anarchism.
[56] D. Nienwenhuis, **Le Socialisme En Danger** (Paris: PV Stock, 1897), p. 45.
[57] A. Hamon, **Le Socialisme et le CongrĂšs de Londres** (Paris: P-V Stock, 1897), pp. 7â9.
[58] Hamon, **ibid.**, p. 187.
[59] **Justice**, 29 July, 1896.
[60] J. Watts, âAn appeal for the anarchists,â **Justice**, 8 August 1896, p. 3.
[61] Aldred, **op. cit.**, Ref. 13, pp. 52â53.
[62] J. M. OâFallon, âSocial democratic federation socialism v. anarchism and its sympathisers,â **Justice**, 5 September 1896, p. 4.
[63] J. M. OâFallon, âAnarchy and anarchism,â **Justice**, 19 September 1896, p. 2.
[64] **Justice**, âOur enemies the anarchists,â 5 September 1896, p. 1.
[65] G. Pleckanov (Plechanoff), **Anarchism and Socialism,** trans. E. Marx-Aveling (Chicago: Charles Kerr, 1920).
[66] W. Liebknecht, âOur recent congress,â **Justice**, 15 August 1896, p. 4.
[67] J. Robins, âPlechanoff answered,â **The Torch**, 18 April 1895.
[68] Liebknecht, **op. cit.**, Ref. 66.
[69] **Justice**, âAn anarchist messiah,â 14 November 1896, p. 1.
[70] E. B. Bax, **Essays in Socialism** (London: E. Grant Richards, 1907), pp. 64â65; E. B. Bax and J. Haim Levy, **Socialism and Individualism** (London: Personal Rights Association, 1904), p. 33.
[71] A.B. âAnarchism in practice,â **Justice**, 5 December 1896, p. 2.
[72] **Freedom**, September 1890, p. 35.
[73] E. Malatesta, âReport of the Holborn Town Hall meeting,â **Freedom** supplement, AugustâSeptember 1896, p. 98.
[74] C. T. Quinn, âAnarchist organization,â **The Torch**, August 1894, p. 2.
[75] E. Reclus, âReport of the Holborn Town Hall meeting,â **Freedom** supplement, AugustâSeptember 1896, p. 97.
[76] J. A. Andrews, âAnarchist organisation,â **Freedom** supplement, July 1896, p. 87.
[77] W. Tcherkesov, âSocialism or democracy,â **Freedom** supplement, July 1895, pp. 18â19.
[78] W. Tcherkesov, âFrederick Engels,â **Freedom** supplement, September 1895, p. 39.
[79] Aldred, **op. cit.**, Ref. 10, p. 74.
[80] G. Aldred, **Bakunin** **in ER vol. II**, **op. cit**., Ref. 4, p. 47.
[81] D. Cohn-Bendit, **Obsolete Communism the Left-Wing Alternative**, trans. A. Pomerans (London: André Deutsch, 1968), p. 18.
[82] Aldred, **op. cit.**, Ref. 80, p. 47.
[83] Aldred, **ibid.**, pp. 43â44.
[84] Aldred, **op. cit.**, Ref. 10, p. 54.
[85] Aldred, **ibid.**, p. 26.
[86] Aldred, **op. cit.**, Ref. 80, p. 43.
[87] Aldred, **op. cit.**, Ref. 10, p. 31.
[88] G. Aldred, âParliament and the commune,â **The Herald of Revolt**, 2(1) (January 1912), p. 3.
[89] Aldred, **op. cit.**, Ref. 80, p. 46.
[90] Aldred, **ibid.**, p. 51.
[91] Aldred, **ibid**.
[92] Aldred, **op. cit.**, Ref. 11, p. 12; G. Aldred, **Socialism and Parliament part 1**, **op. cit.**, Ref. 39, p. 15.
[93] Aldred, **op. cit.**, Ref. 13, p. 53.
[94] Aldred, **Socialism and Parliament** **part 1**, **op. cit.**, Ref. 92, p. 47.
[95] Aldred, **op. cit.**, Ref. 80, p. 36.
[96] C. T. Caldwell, âGuy Aldred & the background to the anti-parliamentary communist federation,â in Caldwell and Shipway, **op. cit.**, Ref. 51, p. 2.
[97] G. Woodcock, âChomskyâs anarchism,â in **Anarchism and Anarchists** (Kingston, Ontario: Quarry Press, 1992), p. 228.
[98] J. Clark, âMarx, Bakunin and social revolution,â in **The Anarchist Moment** (Montreal: Black Rose, 1984), p. 89.
[99] D. Guérin, **Anarchism**, trans. M. Klopper (New York: Monthly Review Press, 1970), p. 158.
[100] D. Graeber and A. Grubacic, âAnarchism or the revolutionary movement for the 21st century,â available at http://www.zmag.org/content/showarticle.cfm?ItemID = 4796 (accessed 9 February 2008).
[101] Cohn-Bendit, **op. cit.**, Ref. 81, p. 216.
[102] For a discussion see M. Bookchin, **Social Anarchism or Lifestyle Anarchism: An Unbridgeable Chasm** (Edinburgh/Oakland, CA: AK Press, 1995) and B. Black, **Anarchy After Leftism** (Columbia, MO: CAL Press, 1997). M. Schmidt and L. van der Walt present a statement of class struggle anarchism in **Black Flame: The Revolutionary Class Politics of Anarchism and Syndicalism** (Edinburgh/Oakland, CA: AK Press, 2009).