History essay

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Kroptkin-MutualAid.pdf

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sacerdotal, noble, bourgCois, and, in the end, when all the other classes haJ be.p6 used up, of a bureaucratic class. The State descends ffises up, depending upon how you look at it,

-into the cp\dition o1 a machin"I ff i, absoluiely

necessary for its weffar\ that there be some privileged class interested in its existen&. and it is precisely the solidary interest of this privileged\lass that *[ *iI iit iotism.

ANARCEISM

settled down in England after his release, wrote many books and became a well-known and respected member of the com- munity. He moved to Russia following the RevoluUon in rgrT and, disillusioned by Bolshevism, died there in r9zr.

With all anarchists, Kropotkin believed that man is good and that external authority is evil. He differed from the main body of anarchists in his emphasis on the natural solidarity, as contrasted with the natural individualism, of men. This instinct is the subject of his best known work, Mutual Aid., It was Kropotkin's deepest hope that a way could be found to bring city and country, factory and farm, into a harmonious working relationship. He was open-minded as to the means, insisting only that the state had to be abolished before any other measures could be undertaken.

Mutual AirC originally appeared in the British magazine Nineteenth Centurg in occasional issues between r89o and r896.

Muruer- Am (1889-95)

MI/TUAL AID AMONG ANIMALS

The conception of struggle for existence as a factor of evo- lution, introduced into science by Darwin and Wallace, has permitted us to embrace an immensely-wide range of phe- nomena in one single generalization, which soon became the very basis of our philosophical, biological, and sociological speculations. An immense variety of facts:-adaptations of function and structure of organic beings to their surroundings; physiological and anatomical evolution; intellectual progress, and moral development itself, which we formerly used to ex- plain by so many di-fferent causes, were embodied by Darwin in one general conception. We understood them as continued endeavours-as a struggle against adverse circumstances-for such a development of individuals, races, species and societies, as would result in the greatest possible fulness, variety, and intensity of life. It may be that at the outset Darwin himselJ was not fully aware of the generality of the factor which he ffrst invoked for explaining one series only of facts relative to

SOCIALIST TEOUGST 345

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PETER KROPOTKTN (1342_1921)

After Bakunin's death in 1876 anarchism presented a ter- rifying aspect to the world. In the r88os and ,gos no statesman in Europe and America was safe from attack. The anarchist ethic of individualism permitted acts of violence by persons, a-s distinguished from those by governments-violence all the more terrilying for its ,r.rptedictrbility, Though the 'propagandists of the deed" were small in numbei even among anarchists, and completely disorganized-for anarch- ists never worked well together-they gave the movement as a whole a bad name. Only a man possessing the sim- nligrty of faith and high moral integrity of a peter Kropotkin, Bakunin's successor as the leading exponent of anaichism, could have won the respect of the non-anarchist world. The qualities evident in his person as well as in his voluminous writings carried his influence well beyond the tiny circle of his followers.

Like Bakunin, Kropotkin was a Russian aristocrat, a prince, who threw up his privileges because his love of humanity would not allow him to abide Czarist tyranny. He was a ffrst-rate geologist and naturalist, which may be the reason he later made it one of his chief tasks to reconcile Darwinism and anarcho-communism. The turning point in his revolu- tionary career came in t87z when, in Switzerland, he fell under Bakunin's influence, though he never joined the older man in conspiratorial activities. Kropotkin actively propa- gandized for anarchism, especially in France, where he spent several years in jail, though he never committed or sanctioned violence, Like so many other revolutionists before him, he

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_{ 346 socrAlrsr rHoucET the accumulation of individual variations in incipient species. But he foresaw that the term which he was introducing into science would lose its philosophical and its only true meaning if it were to be used in its narrow sense only-that of a struggle between separate individuals for the sheer means of existence. And at the very beginning of his memorable work he insisted upon the term being taken in its 'large and metaphorical sense including dependence of one being on another, and in- cluding (which is more important) not only the life of the individual, but success in leaving plogeny."

Whiie he himself was chiefly using the term in its narrow sense for his own special purpose, he warned his followers against committing the error (which he seems once to have committed himself) of overrating its narrow meaning. In The Descent of Man he gave some powerful pages to illustrate its proper, wide sense, He pointed out how, in numberless animal societies, the struggle between separate individuals fuf the means of existence disappears, how s.truggle is replaced by co-operation, and how that substitution results in the devel: opment of intellectual and moral faculties which secure to th-e species the best conditions for survival. He intimated that in such cases the ffttest are not the physically strongest, nor the cunningest, but those who lea,rn to combine so as mutually to support each other, strong and weak alike, for the welfare"of the community.""Those communities," he wrote, "which in- cluded the greatest number of the most sympathetic merql'bess would flourish best, and rear the greatest number of ofispring," The term, which originated from the narrow Malthusian con- ception of competition between each and all, thus lost its narrowness in the mind of one who knew Nature,

Unhappily, these remarks, which might have become the basis of most fruitful researches, were overshadolved by the masses of facts gathered for the purpose of illustrating the consequences of a real competition for life. Besides, Darwin never attempted to submit to a closer investigation the relative importance of the two aspects under which the stmggle for existence appears in the animal world, and he never wrote the work he proposed to write upon the natural checks to over-multiplication, although that work would have been the

ANAncFrsM 847 crucial test for appreciating the real purport of individual struggle. Nay, on the very pages just mentioned, amidst data disproving the narrow Malthusian conception of struggle, the old Malthusian leaven reappeared-namely, in Darwin's re- marks as to the alleged inconveniences of maintaining the 'weak in mind and body''in our civilized societies (ch. v.). As if thousands of weak-bodied and inffrm poets, scientists, inventors, and reformers, together with other thousands of so-called 'Tools" and "weak-minded enthusiasts," were not the most precious weapons used by humanity in its struggle for existence by intellecfual and moral arms, which Darwin himself emphasized in those same chapters ol Descent of Man,

It happened with Darwin's theory as it always happens with theories having any bearing upon human relations. Instead of widening it according to his own hints, his followers nar- rowed it still more. And while Herbert Spencer, starting on independent but closely-allied lines, attempted to widen the inqury into that gleat question, "Who are the ffttest?" espe- cially in the appendix to the third edition of, the Data of Ethi.cs, the numberless followers of Darwin reduced the notion of struggle for existence to its narrowest limits. They came to conceive the animal world as a world of perpetual struggle among half-starved individuals, thirsting for one anothet's blood. They made modem literature resound with the war- uy of. woe to the oanquished, as if it were the last word of modern biology. They raised the "pitiless" struggle for per sonal advantages to the height of a biological principle'which man must submit to as well, under the menace of otherwise suco.rmbing in a world based upon mutual extermination. Leaving aside the economists who know of natural science but a few words borrowed from second-hand vulgarizers, we must recognize that even tfre most authorized exponents of Darwin's views did their best to maintain those false ideas.

MUTUAI. AID AMONG OI/RSELVES

'The mutual-aid tendency in man has so'remote an origin, and is so deeply interwoven with all the past evolution of the

348 socrAlrsr rHoucET human race, that it has- been maintained by mankind up to the present time, notwithstanding all vicissitudes of history. it was chiefly evolved during neriods of peace

"rrd prorp"iity;

but when even the greatesicalamities beiell men_when whole :countries were laid waste by wars, and whole populations were decimated by misery, or groaned under the yof.i of tyr_ anny-tle same tendency continued to live in the

"lllages arrd

emgng the- poorer classes in the towns; it still kept ti'e* to- F:.,1:"

and in the long run it reacted even upon tlose ruling 'iighting, and devastating minorities which diimissed it as sei- timental nonsense. And whenever mankind had to work out a new social organization, adapted to a new phasis of de_ velopment, its constructi.n" g"rriu, always drew the elements and the inspiration for the new departure from that same ever_ Iiving tendency.iNew economical and social institutions, in so far as they were a creation of the masses, new ethical .yrt"*r, and new religions, all have originated from the same source, and the ethical progress of our race, viewed in its broad lines, fppears as 'a

,gradual extension of the mufual-aid principles from the

_tribe to always larger and Iarger agglom.otiorrr, ,o as to ffnally embrace one day the whole of riinkind, without respect to its divers creeds, languages, and races. . Afte_r having passed througlr, the savage tribe, and next

through the village community, the Europ"eans came to work out in medieval times a new form of organization, which had the advantage of allowing great latitudJ for individual initia- tive, while it largely responded at the same time to man s need of mufual support. A federation of village communities, covered by a network of guilds and fraterniiies, was called into existence in the medieval cities. The immense results achieved under this new form of union-in well-being f",

"fiin industries, art, science, and commerce-were discussed ai some length in two preceding chapters, and an attempt was also made to show why, towards th1 end of the fffteenth

""rr_!ry,- th9 medieval republics-surrounded by domains of hos- tile feudal lords, unable to free the peasanis from servitude, and gradually corrupted by ideas of Roman Cesarism_were doomed to become a prey to the growing military States.

However, before submitting for thr.ee centuries to come, to

ANARoHISM 349

the all-absorbing authority of the State, the masses of the people made a formidable attempt at reconstructing society on the old basis of mutual aid and support. It is well known by this time that the gleat movement of the reform was not a mere revolt against the abuses of the Catholic Church. It had its constructive ideal as well, and that ideal was life in free, brotherly communities. Those of the early writings and ser- mons of the period which found most response with the masses were imbued with ideas of the economical and social brotherhood of mankind. The "Twelve Articles" and similar professions of faith, which were circulated among the German and Swiss peasants and artisans, maintained not only every onqb 11ghllg _i9-tp-1p1et the Bible according to his own under- standing, but also included the de-qan-d of eemmunal Iands being restored to the village communities and feudal servi- tudes being abolished, and they always alluded to the--!rud' faith-a faith of brotherhood. At the same time scores of thou- sd"as dt men aird women joined the communist fraternities of Moravia, giving them all their fortune and living in numerous and prosperous settlements conshucted upon the principles of communism. Only wholesale massacres by the thousand could put a stop to this widely-spread popular movement, and it was by the sword, the ffre, and the rack that the young States secured their ffrst and decisive victory over the masses of the people.

For the next three centuries the States, both on the Conti- nent and in these islands, systematically weeded out all insti- tutions in which the mutual-aid tendency had formerly found its expression. The village communities were bereft of their folkmotes, their courts and independent administration; their lands were conffscated, The guilds were spoliated of their pos- sessions and liberties, and placed under tle control, the fancy, and the bribery of the State's oficial. The cities were divested of their sovereignty, and the very springs of their inner life- the folkmotq the elected justices and administration, the sov- ereign parish and the sovereign guild-were annihilated; the

i_Stute'r functionary took posse.s;ion of every link of what for- merly was an organic whole. iUnder that fatal policy and the wars it engendered, whole regions, once populous and

35O socrAr-rsT TsoucET wealthy, were laid bare; rich cities became insigniffcant bor- oughs; the very roads which connected them with other cities became impracticable. Industry, art, and knowledge fell into decay. Political educaUon, science, and law were rendered subservient to the idea of State centralization. It was taught in the Universities and from the pulpit that the institutions in which men formerly used to embody their needs of mutual support could not be tolerated in a properly organized State; that the State alone could represent the bonds of union be- tween its subiects; that federalism and "particularism" were the enemies of progress, and the State was the only proper initiator of further development. By the end of the last century the kings on the Continen! the Parliament in these isles, and the revolutionary Convention in France, although they were at war with each other, agreed in asserting that no separate unions between citizens must exist within the State; that hard labor and death were the only suitable punishments to work- ers who dared to enter into "coalitions." 'No state within the Statel" The State alone, and the State's Church, must take care of matters of general interest, while the subjects must repre- sent loose aggregations of individuals, connected by no par- ticular bonds, bound to appeal to the Government each time that they feel a common need. Up to the middle of this cen- tury this was the theory and practice in Europe. Even com- mercial and industrial societies were looked at with suspicion. As to the workers, their unions were treated as unlawful al- most within our own lifetime in this counky and within the last twenty years on the Continent. The whole system of our State education was such that up to the present time, even in this country, a notable portion of society would treat as a revolutionary measure the concession of such rights as every one, freeman or serf, exercised ffve hun&ed years ago in the village folkmote, the guild, the parish, and the city.

I The absorption of all social functions by the State neces- sarily favoured the development of an unbridled, narrow- minded individualism. In proportion as the obligations towards the State grew in numbers the citizens were evidently relieved from their obligations towards each other.rln the guild-and in medieval times every man belonged io to-" guild or

ANAR0ETsM 951 fraternify-two *brothers" were bound to watch in turns a brother who had fallen ill; it would be sufficient now to give one's neighbour the address of the next paupers'hospital. In barbarian society, to assist at a ffght between two men, arisen from a quarrel, and not to prevent it from taking a fatal issue, meant to be oneself treated as a murderer; but under the theory of the all-protecting State the bystander need not in- hude: it is the policemans business to interferg or not. And while in a savage land, among the Hottentots, it would be scandalous to eat without having loudly called out thrice whether there is not somebody wanting to share the food, all that a respectable citizen has to do now is to pay the poor tax and to let the stawing starve$he result is, that the theory which maintains that men can, qnd must, seel< their o fl-Lap- p-iness in a dlsrygard of other people's wants is now trium- phant all round-in law, in science, in religion) It is the religion of the day, and to doubt of its efficacy is to be a dangerous Utopian. Science loudly proclaims that the struggle of each against all is the leading principle of nature, and of human societies as well. To that struggle Biology ascribes the pro- gressive evolution of the animal world, History takes the same line of argument; and political economists, and their naive ig- norance, trace all progress of modern industry and machinery to the "wonderful" effects of the same principle. The very religion of the pulpit is a religion of individualism, slightly mitigated by more or less charitable relations to one's neigh- bours, chiefly on Sundays. "Practical" men and theorists, men of science and religious preachers, lawyers and politicians, aU agree upon one thing-that individualism may be more or less softened in its harshest effects by charity, but that it is the only secure basis for the maintenance of society and its ulterior progress.

It seems, therefore, hopeless to look for mutual-aid institu- tions and practices in modern society. What could remain of them? And yet, as soon as we try to ascertain how the millions of human beings live, and begin to study their everyday re- lations, we are struck with the immense part which the mutual-aid and mufual-support principles play even now- a-days in human life. Although the destruction of mutual-aid

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ii 352 SOCIAIIST TgOUGST

institutions has-been going on in practice and theory, for full three or {our hundred years, hundreds of millions of men con- tinue to live under such institutions; they piously maintain them and endeavour to reconstitute them where they have ceased to exist, In our mutual relations every one of us has his moments of revolt against the fashionable individualistic creed of the day, and actions in which men are guided by their mutual-aid inclinations constitute so great a part of our daily intercourse that if a stop to such actions could be put all further ethical progress would be stopped at once. Human society itself could not be maintained for even so much as the lifetime of one single generation. These facts, mostly neglected by sociologists and yet of the ffrst importance for the life and fwther elevation of mankind, we are now going to analyze, beginning with the standing institutions of mutual support, and passing next to those acts of mutual aid which have their origin in personal or social sympathies. .

. . . It is especially in the domain of ethics that the domi- nating importance of the mutual-aid principle appears in full. That mutual aid is the real foundation of our ethical con- ceptions seems evident enough. But whatever the opinions as to the ffrst origin of the mutual-aid feeling or instinct may be-whether a biological or a supernafural cause is ascribed to it-we must trace its existence as far back as to the lowest stages of the animal world; and from these stages we can follow its uninternrpted evolution, in opposition to a number of contrary agencies, through all degrees of human develop- ment, up to the present times. Even the new religions which were born from time to time-always at epochs when the mutual-aid principle was falling into decay in the theocracies and despotic States of the East, or at the decline of the Roman Empire---even the new religions have only reaffirmed that same principle. They found their ffrst supporters among the humble, in the lowest, down-hodden layers of society, where the mutual-aid principle is the necessary foundation of every- day life; and the new fonns of union which were introduced

A}IANCHISM

in the earliest Buddhist and Christian communities, in the Moravian brotherhoods and so on, took the character of a return to the best aspects of mutual aid in early tribal life.

Each time, however, lhat an attempt to return to this old principle was made, its fundamental idea itself was widened. From the clan it was extended to the stem, to the federation of stems, to the nation, and ffnally-in ideal, at least-to the whole of manl<ind. It was also reffned at the same time. In primitive Buddhism, in primitive Christianity, in the writings of some of the Mussulman teachers, in the early movements of the Reform, and especially in the ethical and philosophical movements of the last centwy and of our own times, the total abandonment of the idea of revenge, or of "due reward"-of good for good and evil for evil-is afrrmed more and more vigorously. The higher conception of 'ho revenge for wrongs," and of freely giving more than one expects to receive from his neighbours, is proclaimed as being the real principle of morality-a principle superior to mere equivalence, equity, or justice, and more conducive to happiness. And man is ap- pealed to to be guicled in bis acts, not merely by love, which is always personal, or at the best tribal, but by the perception of his oneness with each human being. In the practice of mu- fual aid, which we can retrace to the earliest beginnings of evolution, we thus ffnd the positive and undoubted origin of our ethical conceptions; and we can affirm that in the ethical progress of man, mufual support-not mutual struggle-has had the leading part. In its wide extension, even at the present time, we also see the best guarantee of a still loftier evolution of our race.

SYNDICALISM

French trade unionists shaped the dochine of syndicalism between r8g5 and World War I in protest against the en- croachments of the state on the one hand and the growing tendency toward reformism within the socialist movement on the other. Despite its novel form, the protest kept faith with tradition. The anarchism of Proudhon and Bakunin had de-