Barbara Tuchman’s The Proud Tower permits mediation on what is truly admirable about 19th Century anarchism.
The range of expression of lifetime commitment, from the fiery leading
intelligence of Michael Bakunin to the quiet intellectual preoccupation of Jean
Grave is compelling. “In a fifth-floor garret in a working-class street, the
Rue Moffetard,” after his imprisonment, Grave “edited, largely wrote, and
printed on a hand press ‘La Revolte,’
at the same time working on his great history Le Mouvement Libertaire Sous
la Troisieme Republique’” (Tuchman, p. 86). For one inclined to reading and
writing, such a depiction is immensely seductive. But it is the life-long active engagement, the passionate dedication to the well-being of others,
that is most impressive.
There was a romantic faith in human nature among these idealists. “The Anarchists believed that with Property, the monarch of
all evil, eliminated, no man could again live off the labor of another and
human nature would be released to seek its natural level of justice among men.
The role of the State would be replaced by voluntary cooperation among
individuals and the role of the law by the supreme law of the general welfare”
(Tuchman, p. 73). A pause in appreciation of Barbara Tuchman’s even-handedness.
While she was not an anarchist, Tuchman’s ability to sympathetically portray a
group, who is remembered by most of her fellow mainstream historians for
inspiring violence, is commendably open-minded. The Proud Tower’s
chapter, entitled “The Idea and the Deed,” is a valuable, 61 page,
encapsulation of anarchist history between 1890-1914.
But romantic vision and commitment was not enough to ensure
success. From the distance of more than a century, we have available hindsight.
As modern individuals looking backward, we can see some problems with the views
of 19th Century anarchists that are readily visible to us, but were
not apparent to them. Violence, in the form of assassination and public
bombings, is repudiated by almost all contemporary, thinking anarchists. This
is the case for both practical and philosophical reasons. Practically speaking,
the numerous attacks of the late 1800s did not make Western Civilization
receptive to anarchist principles. Anarchists of that century learned too late
that the masses, whom these acts were meant to support, were horrified by the
attacks. Workers tended to rally to the victims of bombings rather than to the
banner of anarchism. As for the bourgeoisie, they simply stiffened their resolve
and rallied more fervently around their State and capitalist systems. Expecting
bourgeois citizens of various countries to surrender, is as unreasonable as the
similar expectation of 21st Century Radical Islam, that the West will
surrender its permissive, democratic culture because its people are terrorized.
Philosophically, attempting to create a utopia by employing
violence or, in the words of Audre Lorde, using “the Master’s tools” to
“dismantle the Master’s house” (Lorde, p. 110), will only create an authoritarian
outcome. With the numerous examples of history available to them (Robespierre
comes to mind) the anarchists of that time should have known that terror
results in suffocating fear, demagoguery and oppressive regimes.
The times being what they were, there were also
misunderstandings of human biology that certainly effected the thinking of
anarchists living in that period. Natural Selection was so new, and genetics so
poorly understood, that wrong-headed assumptions about human nature persisted.
There was a naïve, utopian notion that humans would “return” to a mythical
state of grace where everyone shares and cooperates. Humans have as many, if
not more, selfish impulses built into their genetic composition as they do
cooperative ones. We are the current product of simpler animals, who survived
to evolve by clawing their way to the top of the food chain. Yes, there was
some cooperation exhibited, but primarily within one’s tribe or group. Primate behavior and history both teach us that outsiders are violently attacked and driven-off if they encroached on the resources or
food supply of one’s group. As humans evolved, stronger tribes subjugated weaker tribes and
used their labor to create what we ironically call civilization. The golden age, where a multi-ethnic
collection of human families sat around a campfire singing folk songs and eating vegan cheese,
is nothing more than a wishful fantasy. For a more extended discussion of the opportunistic
tendency in human behavior, without which we would not have survived, I refer
the reader to Richard Dawkins’ masterful work The Selfish Gene.
Nineteenth Century anarchists, from Proudhon to Kropotkin,
elaborate their utopian vision of how, once governments were abolished, people
would divide resources. They discussed
ideas like the equitable division of land among farmers and the pooling of
food or goods into vast storehouses. Kropotkin “had the plans for the kingdom
already drawn” (Tuchman, p. 83). But any such system would undoubtedly create a
governmental structure to gather resources and administer fair distribution.
After the destruction of all governments, we would certainly build one again
for this purpose. Governments, over time, make themselves larger, not smaller.
Bureaucrats find new reasons to create more work and accrue more power to make
their departments larger, more important, better funded. They end-up
controlling more aspects of life. What might begin as a benevolent distribution
of resources would end in another State system of control. The paradox
of anarchism’s antipathy towards organization, when considered alongside the
need for organization before, during and after a revolution, was never a
contradiction that activists of that era could resolve.
Finally, there is the problem that Bakunin himself
elaborated at the end of his life. Discussing the failure of revolution in his
lifetime, Bakunin wrote to his wife “we reckoned without the masses who did not
want to be roused to passion for their own freedom…This passion being absent
what good did it do us to have been right theoretically? We were powerless.”
Tuchman goes on to say “he despaired of saving the world and died,
disillusioned, in 1876” (Tuchman, pp. 75-6).
Whatever criticisms we have of thought or action among these
idealists, they did make a contribution to the individualism, and perhaps even
the freedom, of humanity. Given Tuchman’s historical balance, she should have
the last word before we move on to current anarchism:
“However self-limited its acts, however visionary its dream,
Anarchism had terribly dramatized the war between the two divisions of society,
between the world of privilege and the world of protest. In the one it shook
awake a social conscience; in the other, as its energy passed into Syndicalism,
it added its quality of violence and extremism to the struggle for power of
organized labour. It was an idea which drew men to follow it; but because of its
built-in paradox could not draw them together into a group capable of concerted
action. It was the last cry of individual man, the last movement among the
masses on behalf of individual liberty, the last hope of living unregulated,
the last fist shaken against the encroaching State, before the State, the
party, the union, the organization closed in” (Tuchman, p. 132).
Despite this praised-filled post-mortem, there are
anarchists pursuing a vision today. Modern anarchists generally do not make the
mistakes of their 19th Century predecessors. For the most part, they
repudiate violence, have a more scientific understanding of genetics/selfishness, shy away from prognosticating on utopias, and have fewer illusions
about the commitment of the masses to social change. While these current
perspectives result in a more sound political acumen, they do not aid in
fostering a revolution. On the contrary, these contemporary understandings
hamper efforts towards creating constructive plans and actions. As a result, 21st
Century anarchism is far more a philosophy than a movement.
Dawkins, Richard. The Selfish Gene. Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 2006.
Lorde, Audre. Sister Outsider. Freedom: The Crossing
Press, 1984.
Tuchman, Barbara W. The Proud Tower. New York: Bantam
Books, 1989.
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