[The final installment of the my current draft (this one positivist-in-orientation) on epistemology oriented toward the anarchist movement.]
Once the problems of defining anarchism and anarchist movements are solved (or at least addressed) and the question of research frame is dealt with, still more challenges await. These challenges are practical matters than restrict scholar access to anarchist movements, such as sampling, trust, and confidentiality.
In order to study anarchists or anarchism, one needs to find anarchists. Because overt anarchists are relatively small in number today, it is tough to locate anarchist populations to sample. Covert anarchists obviously do not wish to be found and almost surely seek to avoid being studied. Where there are important ethical concerns to consider when studying covert anarchists, such research is still meaningful, valuable, and worth the effort to protect privacy. The behind closed-doors decision-making of covert anarchists can help to inform the future efforts of anarchists, who act under the gaze of watchful states and other authority figures. For example, what strategies are used for affinity group formation? How do covert anarchists participate overtly in the mainstream? How do people decide to engage in illegal activities instead of legal activities?
The fact that covert anarchists wish to avoid study is relevant within representative democracies, where information on membership in affinity groups, Animal Liberation Front cells, or squat residences are completely unavailable. But, this reluctance is particularly true in authoritarian countries. For example, the Nigerian anarchist organization called the Awareness League requests that anarchist comrades not include the “Awareness League” name on mailed letters (or any mention of political matters) out of fear of government censorship. Likewise, anarchists in Zimbabwe fear government repression (with good cause!), and consequently conceal their politics behind “arts and culture” community groups. More generally, locating anarchists requires some sort of personal contact information that most people do not regularly have. Consequently, having access to broad social networks is especially important for those interested in studying anarchist movements.
Even when located, anarchists are often hesitant to help scholars pursue their research. Why? Anarchist movements have long been spied upon and then persecuted by governments, corporations and wealthy land-owners, religious institutions, and others. Anarchists are usually aware of this history, and when combined with present-day repression, activists may develop a keen sense of paranoia.[1] Thus, access to movement participants may be thwarted by distrust of outsiders, including (and maybe especially) academics. North American anarchists sometimes call this healthy paranoia “security culture”, which results in a refusal to speak about tactical matters (and sometimes political matters) to anyone they do not know personally and well. Inter-organizational matters of dissension and controversy may be particularly off-topic to outsiders. As many scholars are employed at publicly-funded universities, scholars may be distrusted as either interlopers with little sympathy for anarchist goals or as spies for governments. The former are viewed as parasites who make careers off the struggles of others, the latter as enemy agents intent upon disruption.
Anarchist activists have other reasons to be skeptical of participating in academic research. Even for studies conducted by activist-scholars with the best of intentions, the research process is fraught with risks. Confidentiality may be threatened by authority figures, especially if research seems to isolate and identify individuals. What is to stop a powerful elite from trying to track down original contacts, interviewees, or survey-takers, in order to spy on them, arrest them, or worse? Or more mundanely, employers could harass or fire, landlords refuse to rent to, and family and friends could shun if anarchists' identities became public in the wrong way. Even when confidentiality has been actively protected, the very existence of published research may be a valuable tool to attack a movement. Research that helps scholars and activists to better understand how movements work and how to improve strategies, can also be used by the state to identify movement weaknesses and target those movements for disruption, especially if source data become “public data”, which anyone could then access and analyze independently. Anarchists are rightful suspicious and hesitant to help authority figures undermine their own movements.
Anarchist-sociologists will likely have to go out and collect such data, participate in the aforementioned types of conversations, and live and observe these experiences. For those with no immediate access to research subjects, scholars might wish to seek out other forms of data to analyze. Unfortunately, there are no real good sources of data on anarchists for obvious and previously discussed reasons. There have been some secondary sources we have found useful, albeit imperfect. Very few surveys have been done of anarchists, although some data exists on attitudes about anarchists. One of us has published research using online surveys (e.g. user survey from Infoshop.org), which while not too generalizable, can answer some questions about individual anarchists (see Williams 2009a, 2009b). Organizational directories, such as the International Blacklist (from the 1980s) or the more recent Anarchist Yellow Pages, catalog the existence, location, and character of anarchist organizations (see Williams & Lee 2008). Recent anarchist history has been and is being compiled by various projects, like the A-Infos News Service (see Williams & Lee forthcoming as a use of this “data”) and the Independent Media Center network. These projects—and many others—describe and record anarchist events, political news, organizational and movement histories, and other documents of note.
Mainstream and alternative press could be used as data for content analysis that indicates the popularity, controversy, or successes and victories of the anarchist movement. For example, long-running newspapers like the New York Times has recorded decades of anarchist history—albeit through an unfavorable, elite lens and in superficial contours. Library collections—such as the Labadie at the University of Michigan—have many complete series of anarchist newspapers and magazines from the near and distant past (Herrada 2007). One underused—and perhaps less accessible—source of data is that collected by various law enforcement authorities, who often have a near-pathological institutional mandate to collect information on enemies of the state (see Borum & Tilby 2005 for analysis premised upon police data and perspectives). The data law enforcement collects will generally reflect the perceived, relative threat posed by anarchists and anarchist movements.[2] Still, this kind of data could be a fascinating treasure trove.
The preceding sources of data are not only suggestive of possibility, but also deserving of caution. We end this chapter with a brief discussion of methodological strategies and their weaknesses as they pertain to the study of anarchist movements. The major concerns that deserve attention include incompleteness, inaccuracy, non-generalizability, and challenges to access.
Standard sociological methods, such as survey questionnaires, provide some nice benefits, but are rife with problems when studying anarchists. For example, it is impossible to properly sample anarchists, since no sample frame for anarchists exists. Compared to other groups of people—maybe Sierra Club members who are recorded on master lists by the national organization—it is impossible to know who all the potential anarchists in a given area are. Therefore, any anarchists that are included in a study will not accurately represent the entire population, since the constitution of the entire population is unknown. Additionally, an unavoidable selection bias results since not everyone given a survey will actually complete it—consequently, any conclusions drawn from these surveys will only reflect the patterns of those who choose to do the surveys, not those who refuse them. Thus, surveys are bound to be non-generalizable to the larger population of anarchists. Even efforts to ascertain opinions about anarchists, collected by generalizable surveys, will still be problematic, as secondary data can rarely answers questions that they were not designed to answer originally. Researchers will be grappling with operationalization issues and trying to apply old data to new research questions.
All manner of field methods—ranging from ethnographies to simple face-to-face, open-ended interviews—have other, unique challenge. One formidable problems, previously discussed, has to do with the establishment of trust between anarchists and those wanting to know about anarchism. As a result of distrust of outsiders, committed anarchists are probably the best people to interview other anarchists. As with all qualitative research, questions of generalizability abound: are the people who get observed or interviewed at all alike other anarchists? It is likely that those willing to be observed or interviewed have certain commonalities—e.g. an outward focus, overt status, etc.—that set them apart from other groups of anarchists, such as those who participate in black blocs, do targeted property destruction, advocate armed struggle, are racial or ethnic minorities (or of immigrant status), have been previously arrested, and so forth. There is also always the question of time and expense when doing in-depth observation and interviews: such research tends to span long periods of time and require substantial financial resources for travel and living expenses.
Passive methodologies that do not require direct contact with research subjects, like content analysis, introduce still different issues. Depending on the medium under study, content analysis could be biased (in one direction or another), incomplete, or simply unhelpful. In each case, it is important to honesty consider the source of the data under analysis and reflect on just how helpful it can be. For example, movement documents—statements from anarchist organizations, the movement's magazines, or claims made in anarchist histories—may reflect desires and critiques of anarchists, as opposed to reality and fact. Thus, all movements (anarchism included) put forth propaganda to convince allies to join them, enemies to give up, and for themselves to keep fighting. It is likely quite regular for movements to brag and exaggerate about the success of actions or the attendance at an event in order to make it seem better than it actually was. Movements (and obviously the groupings and organizations within them) are not always good at keeping records about themselves; their decisions, the logic that led to those decisions, and the result of decisions are regularly omitted in meeting minutes or public pronouncements. Thus, for researchers trying to understand how and why something was done, movement documents might make it seem as if nothing actually happened, although the opposite is more likely true. Consequently, many researchers have to read between the lines, as troubling endeavor as it requires projecting one's own conclusions about other's actions.
The mainstream media is an equally complex source of data for content analysis, but for different reasons. Media often present anarchists in a negative light—when they are presented at all. Thus, an “anti-halo effect” likely surrounds anarchist activities. Selective coverage will focus on the most dramatic (and probably most unflattering) behaviors, such as property destruction, while mundane, heroic, or positive acts like sharing food with the homeless, watching police patrol poor neighborhoods, or making long, consensus-decisions at meetings will be overlooked. The the media includes a range of anarchist behaviors that is non-representative of the true spectrum of activities. Last, media regularly misquotes people or places their words and actions out of context—whether through reporter misunderstanding, deadline pressures, or deliberate, ideological editorialization. While, this problem affects many movements, it is bound to be of particular significance for radical movements like anarchism who have ideas beyond the typical realm of discourse and otherwise unintelligible to mainstream media.
Finally, going further into protectors of the status quo, one could analyze records kept by law enforcement. While, there are likely extreme issues of limited access (as mentioned earlier), there are also problems related to police mischaracterization. Thus, something that has a clear meaning to anarchists, may be highly misunderstood, miscategorized, and presented in a fashion that misconstrues anarchist intentions. Also, given police reliance upon informants (paid or unpaid), researchers would have to consider the motivations of those relaying information. Do informants seek to validate their own importance to police by playing up perceived anarchist threats—or even to insure the continue to get paid for their spying? Or, are informants telling police what they thing police want to hear? And if so, what exactly is that “truth”? Regardless, content analysis of law enforcement records would have to sharply filter data based on these rampant biases. Such problems should not deter the use of this kind of data—in fact, it may reveal a good deal about how police perceive and frame threats posed by anarchists—but it should caution the conclusions arrived at.
Notes
[1] Not coincidentally, paranoia is one of the very mental states that governments seek to foster amongst radical movements.
[2] Ironically, anarchists have been unintentionally instrumental in the founding of the FBI and Secret Service in the US (via FBI founder J. Edgar Hoover's pathological obsession with “reds” and his participation in the deportation of anarchists Emma Goldman and Alexander Berkman to Russia in 1919 and the backlash following Leon Czolgosz's assassination of President William McKinley in 1901), and the European-based Interpol policing agencies (Jensen 1981).
References
Borum, Randy and Chuck Tilby. 2005. “Anarchist Direct Actions: A Challenge for Law Enforcement”. Studies in Conflict & Terrorism, 28 (3): 201-223.
Herrada, Julie. 2007. “Collecting Anarchy: Continuing the Legacy of the Joseph A. Labadie Collection”. RBM: A Journal of Rare Books, Manuscripts, & Cultural Heritage, 8 (2), Fall: 133-140.
Jensen, Richard Bach. 1981. “The International Anti-Anarchist Conference of 1898 and the Origins of Interpol”. Journal of Contemporary History, 16 (2), April: 323-347.
Williams, Dana. 2009a. “Red vs. Green: Regional Variation of Anarchist Ideology in the United States”. Journal of Political Ideologies, 14 (2), June: 189-210.
Williams, Dana. 2009b. “Anarchists and Labor Unions: An Analysis Using New Social Movement Theories”. WorkingUSA: The Journal of Labor & Society, 12 (3), September: 337-354.
Williams, Dana and Matthew T. Lee. 2008. “'We Are Everywhere': An Ecological Analysis of Organizations in the Anarchist Yellow Pages”. Humanity & Society, 32, February: 45-70.
Williams, Dana and Matthew T. Lee. Forthcoming. “Overthrowing the State Without Using It: Political Opportunities for the Anarchist Movement”.
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
Sunday, December 18, 2011
The Subjects and Scale of Anarchist Movement Research
All movements exist at multiple social scales. This means that there are different-sized configurations of anarchists and their groups. For example, movements consist of individuals, groups of individuals, formal organizations, and large networks or federations of individuals and groups. Consequently, any given movement is best viewed as a network of these various collections of people and their created structures (whether loose or firm).
Thus, when speaking about anarchism and anarchists, it is crucial to distinguish between the type and scale of one's research frame. When the FBI describes “anarchists” as a threat to the internal security of the US or propertied interests of corporate America (FBI 1999), to what and whom is it referring? Is the FBI referring to random anarchist individuals (probably), anarchist scenes (implicated, undoubtedly), formal organizations (yes, such as the Anarchist Black Cross, or less formal with the Earth Liberation Front), or broader networks (perhaps)? Or, when the mass media warns (read: rants hysterically) a community that anarchists are about to descend upon them during a large demonstration, does it mean to implicate all anarchists (perhaps living throughout the city), specific anarchist groups or organizations (maybe a “counter-summit” coordinating organization), or large anarchist networks (a regional anarchist federation)? Of course, it is unclear whether the FBI and mass media are really interested in these important issues of scale and specificity, or if they are more interested in fear-generation, retaliation, and suppression. Yet, if the anarchist movement is to be genuinely and accurately understood, these questions are of prime importance!
Individual anarchists could be any person (young or old, employed or unemployed, short or tall) who has a conscious identification with some sort of anarchist-specific ideology. Although there are problems (as noted above) with accepting any self-identified ideology into the anarchist movement, all could theoretically be counted. Ideologies may range from syndicalist, ecological, or feminist to communist, primivitist, punk, post-left, and so on. These individuals exist at what sociologists call the “micro-level”. Individual interaction and relationships occur between people, first and foremost. The micro-level is where encounters take place, friendships occur, and community begins. Symbolic interactionists are apt to note the importance of the micro-level in constructing reality from the ground-up, interaction-by-interaction, relationship after relationship. Most anarchists likely know more individuals than they know groups or organizations, and probably interact more frequently with individuals on a one-to-one basis than within the context of a larger structure.
Still, society is not merely composed of random individuals casually bumping into each other and living their lives without deliberate order. Groups are some of the most routine configurations created by anarchist individuals yet are one of the most difficult to locate and observe. For example, anarchist “scenes”, collections of anarchist friends, or crowds of anarchists are all casual, informal, but deliberately-created groups in the anarchist movement. Groups represent a great epistemological challenge and raise crucial questions. How does one delineate the boundaries of a city's anarchist scene? How do you locate pockets of anarchist friends or comrades, who might live in the same house together, but probably not? Or is it even possible to predict when and where crowds of anarchist individuals will form (and for how long), and then for a researcher to swoop in quickly to study that crowd?
Anarchist organizations are intentionally-created, formally-designed, and usually named. Organizations exist on the meso-scale (or “between level”); they are not composed of mere individuals, nor are they large superstructures, institutions, or bureaucracies. The possible structures of such organizations are incredibly varied. For example, small affinity groups are made of trusting individuals who intermittently re-form for specific purposes. Collectives aim to accomplish explicit goals like publish an anarchist magazine, run a Food Not Bombs food distribution project, or drive fascists out of their local political scenes. Cooperatives are member-based economic organizations that have strong anarchist characteristics, and may be organized to produce some sort of item or provide a service (a book publisher or bicycle manufacturer), or to consume something (a food cooperative or punk rock record store). Such formal organizations create systems for dealing with decision-making, structures for who can participate and how, and work towards some type of collectively-determined goals. These organizations often, but not always (the exception being many affinity groups), are visible to the wider anarchist scene and mainstream society. To the extent that they are visible, they are more easily studied from the outside; the less visible (and the more covert), the more it may be necessary for direct participants to analyze them.
It is difficult to conceive of the anarchist movement in “macro-level” terms. There are no real large-scale structures to speak of, since a core anarchist principle is decentralization (Ehrlich 1996). But, anarchists have constructed international federations and networks—such as the International Workers' Association, Independent Media Center network, the Anarchist Federation, and others—but none qualify as hegemonic institutions like states, bureaucracies, religious institutions, or capitalist marketplaces.
Consideration of the appropriate geographic scale may not be enough to account for the temporal condition of anarchist groups and organizations. The relative permanence of a grouping will indicate the ease or extent to which it may be studied. An important anarchist group may be difficult to study if it is short-lived, while an organization that has little meaningful impact over decades may have a greater chance of impacting movement history since there is more opportunity to study it. Thus, the variation in organizational longevity will effect those attempting to understand how organizations persist within the movement environment. Often, if movement participants to do not personally document their roles and activities in these groupings, such episodes may be lost from history, as will the decisions and rationale that generated that history.
References
Ehrlich, Howard J. 1996. Anarchism and Formal Organization”. Pp. 56-68 in Reinventing Anarchy, Again, edited by H.J. Ehrlich. Edinburgh: AK Press.
Federal Bureau of Investigation. 1999. Terrorism in the United States. Washington, DC: Department of Justice.
Thus, when speaking about anarchism and anarchists, it is crucial to distinguish between the type and scale of one's research frame. When the FBI describes “anarchists” as a threat to the internal security of the US or propertied interests of corporate America (FBI 1999), to what and whom is it referring? Is the FBI referring to random anarchist individuals (probably), anarchist scenes (implicated, undoubtedly), formal organizations (yes, such as the Anarchist Black Cross, or less formal with the Earth Liberation Front), or broader networks (perhaps)? Or, when the mass media warns (read: rants hysterically) a community that anarchists are about to descend upon them during a large demonstration, does it mean to implicate all anarchists (perhaps living throughout the city), specific anarchist groups or organizations (maybe a “counter-summit” coordinating organization), or large anarchist networks (a regional anarchist federation)? Of course, it is unclear whether the FBI and mass media are really interested in these important issues of scale and specificity, or if they are more interested in fear-generation, retaliation, and suppression. Yet, if the anarchist movement is to be genuinely and accurately understood, these questions are of prime importance!
Individual anarchists could be any person (young or old, employed or unemployed, short or tall) who has a conscious identification with some sort of anarchist-specific ideology. Although there are problems (as noted above) with accepting any self-identified ideology into the anarchist movement, all could theoretically be counted. Ideologies may range from syndicalist, ecological, or feminist to communist, primivitist, punk, post-left, and so on. These individuals exist at what sociologists call the “micro-level”. Individual interaction and relationships occur between people, first and foremost. The micro-level is where encounters take place, friendships occur, and community begins. Symbolic interactionists are apt to note the importance of the micro-level in constructing reality from the ground-up, interaction-by-interaction, relationship after relationship. Most anarchists likely know more individuals than they know groups or organizations, and probably interact more frequently with individuals on a one-to-one basis than within the context of a larger structure.
Still, society is not merely composed of random individuals casually bumping into each other and living their lives without deliberate order. Groups are some of the most routine configurations created by anarchist individuals yet are one of the most difficult to locate and observe. For example, anarchist “scenes”, collections of anarchist friends, or crowds of anarchists are all casual, informal, but deliberately-created groups in the anarchist movement. Groups represent a great epistemological challenge and raise crucial questions. How does one delineate the boundaries of a city's anarchist scene? How do you locate pockets of anarchist friends or comrades, who might live in the same house together, but probably not? Or is it even possible to predict when and where crowds of anarchist individuals will form (and for how long), and then for a researcher to swoop in quickly to study that crowd?
Anarchist organizations are intentionally-created, formally-designed, and usually named. Organizations exist on the meso-scale (or “between level”); they are not composed of mere individuals, nor are they large superstructures, institutions, or bureaucracies. The possible structures of such organizations are incredibly varied. For example, small affinity groups are made of trusting individuals who intermittently re-form for specific purposes. Collectives aim to accomplish explicit goals like publish an anarchist magazine, run a Food Not Bombs food distribution project, or drive fascists out of their local political scenes. Cooperatives are member-based economic organizations that have strong anarchist characteristics, and may be organized to produce some sort of item or provide a service (a book publisher or bicycle manufacturer), or to consume something (a food cooperative or punk rock record store). Such formal organizations create systems for dealing with decision-making, structures for who can participate and how, and work towards some type of collectively-determined goals. These organizations often, but not always (the exception being many affinity groups), are visible to the wider anarchist scene and mainstream society. To the extent that they are visible, they are more easily studied from the outside; the less visible (and the more covert), the more it may be necessary for direct participants to analyze them.
It is difficult to conceive of the anarchist movement in “macro-level” terms. There are no real large-scale structures to speak of, since a core anarchist principle is decentralization (Ehrlich 1996). But, anarchists have constructed international federations and networks—such as the International Workers' Association, Independent Media Center network, the Anarchist Federation, and others—but none qualify as hegemonic institutions like states, bureaucracies, religious institutions, or capitalist marketplaces.
Consideration of the appropriate geographic scale may not be enough to account for the temporal condition of anarchist groups and organizations. The relative permanence of a grouping will indicate the ease or extent to which it may be studied. An important anarchist group may be difficult to study if it is short-lived, while an organization that has little meaningful impact over decades may have a greater chance of impacting movement history since there is more opportunity to study it. Thus, the variation in organizational longevity will effect those attempting to understand how organizations persist within the movement environment. Often, if movement participants to do not personally document their roles and activities in these groupings, such episodes may be lost from history, as will the decisions and rationale that generated that history.
References
Ehrlich, Howard J. 1996. Anarchism and Formal Organization”. Pp. 56-68 in Reinventing Anarchy, Again, edited by H.J. Ehrlich. Edinburgh: AK Press.
Federal Bureau of Investigation. 1999. Terrorism in the United States. Washington, DC: Department of Justice.
Friday, October 21, 2011
Issues That Complicate Operationalization and Study of Anarchist Movements
Assuming we can grapple with these questions and realize their full-gravity, we are still left with countless practical conundrums that inhibit the study of anarchism. Even if the theoretical conceptualization of “anarchism” were easily accomplished, the crucial issues of operationalization remain. In other words, we must find a way to locate, observe, measure, and evaluate our concepts if they are to be useful in enhancing understanding. How to define terms so as to observe the correct real-world phenomenon that we seek to observe?
One immediate problem is the casual distinction between “anarchism” and “anarchy”. Both are used interchangeably by activists and the broader public. But, are they truly the same? Anarchism is an ideology, idea, and ideal. It refers to aspirations, values, and identity. Anarchists get together in their collectives to discuss anarchism, to create anarchist projects, to fulfill anarchism. Anarchy is a social condition, the real-existing anarchist practices that fulfill the anarchist ideal. Consequently, it could be viewed as the end-goal, the utopian result of anarchist struggle. These distinctions may be minor, but how can researchers study the meaning and intent of actual anarchists without appreciating this? Content analysis or interviews could easily overlook one term and its meaning, or inappropriately associate one with the other. In sum, when studying the anarchist movement, are we interested in anarchism or anarchy? [1]
Does anarchism need to be identified as such in order to be anarchism? Undoubtedly people and groups may behave in an anarchist fashion, but have little or no affiliation to anarchist ideas. For example, researchers could study something (e.g. a group, a protest event, a project) that is explicitly “anarchist” and uses the word openly. Or, researchers could direct their attention to things that are anarchistic: that which acts in accordance to anarchist values and practice, but does not use the word. In this latter case, participants could be unaware that their behaviors involve anarchist tendencies or, they could be—at least on the surface—strong, vocal opponents of what they perceive to be “anarchism” (perhaps relying on the media-fueled stereotypes of chaos). Thus, despite the anarchistic ideas of founder Dorothy Day, the Catholic Worker rarely openly identifies with anarchism. Still, anarchism has had—and continues to have—an undeniable influence upon the Catholic Worker, in terms of societal critique, expressed values, and organizing practices.
Related to this, are we interested in anarchists who identify openly as such? To publicly apply the word “anarchist” to oneself or one's actions is bound to distinguish one from those who may do identify as or act the same exact way, but do not use the same language. Consequently, overt or covert anarchists are likely to have many different characteristics. We ought to consider the reasons why people choose overt or covert anarchism. Those who choose to publicly identify with anarchism may be interested in attracting others based on principles they see in practice (e.g. mutual aid, anti-authoritarianism, self-management), to put a real-world face to abstract idea, to reclaim the word “anarchist” in a positive way, or to distinguish one's ideas from other forms of radicalism. Others, relying on equally rational thinking, may choose to not identify publicly with anarchism to avoid the predictable stereotyping and preconceptions that accompany the label, to prevent attack by authorities, or simply not wanting to be pigeon-holed as “only an anarchist” (when one could also adopt other labels, such as “feminist”, “revolutionary”, “socialist”, etc). This legitimate issue of visibility creates practical epistemological problems. How to find both groups? How to count them? How to contrast them? Can covert anarchists be part of a “movement”? Can overt anarchists be considered part of other movements?
If we seek out anarchists only within anarchist organizations, settings, or social spheres we are likely to overlook anarchists and anarchist activity outside the realms of the anarchist movement. Many anarchists, of course, do their anarchist activism within explicitly anarchist organizations, functioning within “scenes” composed only of other anarchists. For example, organizations like the Northeast Federation of Anarcho-Communists, the Anarchist Black Cross, or the International Workers Association are explicitly and wholly anarchist. They practice anarchism directly, by name, and place anarchism at the center of all activities. Many other anarchists (and it is obviously unclear how many) practice their anarchist activism within non-anarchist organizations (but still as anarchists). Witness the anarchists who regularly participate in organizations like the American Friends Service Committee, Greenpeace, United for Peace and Justice, or the AFL-CIO. Being an anarchist within a non-anarchist setting is unlikely to completely diminish one's anarchistic qualities, although one's anarchism will undoubtedly be muted. So, what are the motivations for anarchists acting outside the anarchist movement? Hypothetically, these anarchists may be “missionaries” of a sort, acting to encourage these organizations to be more anarchist. Or, less ambitiously, anarchists may simply desire engagement with non-anarchists, or because they agree with the short-term goals sought by reformist organizations (however much these anarchists may wish to eventually surpass such reformism).
As anarchist identity is liquid and easily adopted by people, there is also no strong reason for people to have immediate contact with the “formal” anarchist movement. In fact, during modern times when access to information is readily available through mail-order books or the Internet, people can learn about movements and ideologies easily. Non-movement anarchists are people with no formal attachment to anarchist organizations or movements at large, but still identify with anarchist ideologies and politics. Consequently, anarchists may appear and exist in geographical areas where there is no anarchist scene, organization, or other individuals. It is far more difficult to locate these individuals since there are no visible markers (like an anarchist newspaper, anarcho-punk bands, an Industrial Workers of the World chapter, etc.) that would indicate the presence of anarchists. It is also possible that unaffiliated individuals have independently discovered anarchism, even when there is an organized anarchist presence in their area. Whether such individuals are simply unaware or uninfluenced, they may still be worthy research subjects.
Unlike many other movements, anarchism is not a “single-issue” movement. Comparatively, the environmental movement is focused upon matters related to the natural ecosystem, the feminist movement upon things that affect women and gender relations, and the labor movement upon the conditions of paid labor amongst workers. Anarchism sympathizes with and participates in all of these movements to some extent, but does not focus on one to the neglect of others. The anarchist movement overlaps with many social movements, participating in their most radical wings. Thus, instead of an emphasis upon a particular issue of localized struggle, anarchism is more an aesthetic or general approach to such issues. The few identifiable, core “issues” that link anarchist action together are matters related to hierarchy and authority. Consequently, anarchist activism could—theoretically, at least—be located in nearly all areas of society, as well as within many social movements. For example, Earth First!ers and community gardeners may be part of the anarchist movement and the environmental movement. Anarcha-feminist collectives, reading groups, and individuals are just as much part of the feminist movement as the anarchist movement. While the Workers Solidarity Alliance is an anarchist organization and the Anarcho-Syndicalist Review an anarchist magazine, both also represent the radical, anarchist-wing of the labor movement.
Finally, it is worth making a bell hooks'-like distinction (2000) regarding anarchism. To speak of “the anarchist movement” is highly naïve. There is no hegemonic character to anarchism throughout the world. Anarchist activity in different geographic locations is undoubtedly different and unique. For example, witness the strains of especifismo in South America, Platformism in the United States, or autonomism in Central and Southern Europe. Perhaps a way to address this overgeneralization would be to note multiple anarchist movements (plural) as opposed to one uniform anarchist movement (singular). Thus, we could consider slight regional flavors or those differences amongst anarchists of varying ideological orientations. hooks, writing about feminism, recommends using “movement” as a verb. Movements move; they are in a constant state of evolution, changing to meet new conditions and challenges. It may be useful to refer to “anarchist movement” as the effect of countless anarchists acting within an abstract “movement”, engaging in struggles against very different forces of domination. Seen this way, movements are not static, nor are they strictly space-specific, but are liquid configurations of people struggling to reach their goals.
Notes
[1] But, the term “anarchy” is popularly maligned, often used derogatorily. Mass media uses both terms (but especially the latter) as synonyms for ideas, behaviors, and conditions far-removed from the anarchist tradition. For example, Hurricane Katrina in 2005 spurred such non-theoretically-rooted correlations with anarchy in the news, such as “violence”, “chaos”, and “looting” (Stock 2007). The associations with states in disorder—such as Somalia—are also endlessly propagated in the news.
References
hooks, bell. 2000. Feminism is for Everybody: Passionate Politics. Cambridge, MA: South End Press.
Stock, Paul. 2007. “Katrina and Anarchy: A Content Analysis of a New Disaster Myth”. Sociological Spectrum, 27: 705-726.
One immediate problem is the casual distinction between “anarchism” and “anarchy”. Both are used interchangeably by activists and the broader public. But, are they truly the same? Anarchism is an ideology, idea, and ideal. It refers to aspirations, values, and identity. Anarchists get together in their collectives to discuss anarchism, to create anarchist projects, to fulfill anarchism. Anarchy is a social condition, the real-existing anarchist practices that fulfill the anarchist ideal. Consequently, it could be viewed as the end-goal, the utopian result of anarchist struggle. These distinctions may be minor, but how can researchers study the meaning and intent of actual anarchists without appreciating this? Content analysis or interviews could easily overlook one term and its meaning, or inappropriately associate one with the other. In sum, when studying the anarchist movement, are we interested in anarchism or anarchy? [1]
Does anarchism need to be identified as such in order to be anarchism? Undoubtedly people and groups may behave in an anarchist fashion, but have little or no affiliation to anarchist ideas. For example, researchers could study something (e.g. a group, a protest event, a project) that is explicitly “anarchist” and uses the word openly. Or, researchers could direct their attention to things that are anarchistic: that which acts in accordance to anarchist values and practice, but does not use the word. In this latter case, participants could be unaware that their behaviors involve anarchist tendencies or, they could be—at least on the surface—strong, vocal opponents of what they perceive to be “anarchism” (perhaps relying on the media-fueled stereotypes of chaos). Thus, despite the anarchistic ideas of founder Dorothy Day, the Catholic Worker rarely openly identifies with anarchism. Still, anarchism has had—and continues to have—an undeniable influence upon the Catholic Worker, in terms of societal critique, expressed values, and organizing practices.
Related to this, are we interested in anarchists who identify openly as such? To publicly apply the word “anarchist” to oneself or one's actions is bound to distinguish one from those who may do identify as or act the same exact way, but do not use the same language. Consequently, overt or covert anarchists are likely to have many different characteristics. We ought to consider the reasons why people choose overt or covert anarchism. Those who choose to publicly identify with anarchism may be interested in attracting others based on principles they see in practice (e.g. mutual aid, anti-authoritarianism, self-management), to put a real-world face to abstract idea, to reclaim the word “anarchist” in a positive way, or to distinguish one's ideas from other forms of radicalism. Others, relying on equally rational thinking, may choose to not identify publicly with anarchism to avoid the predictable stereotyping and preconceptions that accompany the label, to prevent attack by authorities, or simply not wanting to be pigeon-holed as “only an anarchist” (when one could also adopt other labels, such as “feminist”, “revolutionary”, “socialist”, etc). This legitimate issue of visibility creates practical epistemological problems. How to find both groups? How to count them? How to contrast them? Can covert anarchists be part of a “movement”? Can overt anarchists be considered part of other movements?
If we seek out anarchists only within anarchist organizations, settings, or social spheres we are likely to overlook anarchists and anarchist activity outside the realms of the anarchist movement. Many anarchists, of course, do their anarchist activism within explicitly anarchist organizations, functioning within “scenes” composed only of other anarchists. For example, organizations like the Northeast Federation of Anarcho-Communists, the Anarchist Black Cross, or the International Workers Association are explicitly and wholly anarchist. They practice anarchism directly, by name, and place anarchism at the center of all activities. Many other anarchists (and it is obviously unclear how many) practice their anarchist activism within non-anarchist organizations (but still as anarchists). Witness the anarchists who regularly participate in organizations like the American Friends Service Committee, Greenpeace, United for Peace and Justice, or the AFL-CIO. Being an anarchist within a non-anarchist setting is unlikely to completely diminish one's anarchistic qualities, although one's anarchism will undoubtedly be muted. So, what are the motivations for anarchists acting outside the anarchist movement? Hypothetically, these anarchists may be “missionaries” of a sort, acting to encourage these organizations to be more anarchist. Or, less ambitiously, anarchists may simply desire engagement with non-anarchists, or because they agree with the short-term goals sought by reformist organizations (however much these anarchists may wish to eventually surpass such reformism).
As anarchist identity is liquid and easily adopted by people, there is also no strong reason for people to have immediate contact with the “formal” anarchist movement. In fact, during modern times when access to information is readily available through mail-order books or the Internet, people can learn about movements and ideologies easily. Non-movement anarchists are people with no formal attachment to anarchist organizations or movements at large, but still identify with anarchist ideologies and politics. Consequently, anarchists may appear and exist in geographical areas where there is no anarchist scene, organization, or other individuals. It is far more difficult to locate these individuals since there are no visible markers (like an anarchist newspaper, anarcho-punk bands, an Industrial Workers of the World chapter, etc.) that would indicate the presence of anarchists. It is also possible that unaffiliated individuals have independently discovered anarchism, even when there is an organized anarchist presence in their area. Whether such individuals are simply unaware or uninfluenced, they may still be worthy research subjects.
Unlike many other movements, anarchism is not a “single-issue” movement. Comparatively, the environmental movement is focused upon matters related to the natural ecosystem, the feminist movement upon things that affect women and gender relations, and the labor movement upon the conditions of paid labor amongst workers. Anarchism sympathizes with and participates in all of these movements to some extent, but does not focus on one to the neglect of others. The anarchist movement overlaps with many social movements, participating in their most radical wings. Thus, instead of an emphasis upon a particular issue of localized struggle, anarchism is more an aesthetic or general approach to such issues. The few identifiable, core “issues” that link anarchist action together are matters related to hierarchy and authority. Consequently, anarchist activism could—theoretically, at least—be located in nearly all areas of society, as well as within many social movements. For example, Earth First!ers and community gardeners may be part of the anarchist movement and the environmental movement. Anarcha-feminist collectives, reading groups, and individuals are just as much part of the feminist movement as the anarchist movement. While the Workers Solidarity Alliance is an anarchist organization and the Anarcho-Syndicalist Review an anarchist magazine, both also represent the radical, anarchist-wing of the labor movement.
Finally, it is worth making a bell hooks'-like distinction (2000) regarding anarchism. To speak of “the anarchist movement” is highly naïve. There is no hegemonic character to anarchism throughout the world. Anarchist activity in different geographic locations is undoubtedly different and unique. For example, witness the strains of especifismo in South America, Platformism in the United States, or autonomism in Central and Southern Europe. Perhaps a way to address this overgeneralization would be to note multiple anarchist movements (plural) as opposed to one uniform anarchist movement (singular). Thus, we could consider slight regional flavors or those differences amongst anarchists of varying ideological orientations. hooks, writing about feminism, recommends using “movement” as a verb. Movements move; they are in a constant state of evolution, changing to meet new conditions and challenges. It may be useful to refer to “anarchist movement” as the effect of countless anarchists acting within an abstract “movement”, engaging in struggles against very different forces of domination. Seen this way, movements are not static, nor are they strictly space-specific, but are liquid configurations of people struggling to reach their goals.
Notes
[1] But, the term “anarchy” is popularly maligned, often used derogatorily. Mass media uses both terms (but especially the latter) as synonyms for ideas, behaviors, and conditions far-removed from the anarchist tradition. For example, Hurricane Katrina in 2005 spurred such non-theoretically-rooted correlations with anarchy in the news, such as “violence”, “chaos”, and “looting” (Stock 2007). The associations with states in disorder—such as Somalia—are also endlessly propagated in the news.
References
hooks, bell. 2000. Feminism is for Everybody: Passionate Politics. Cambridge, MA: South End Press.
Stock, Paul. 2007. “Katrina and Anarchy: A Content Analysis of a New Disaster Myth”. Sociological Spectrum, 27: 705-726.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Dialectical Inequality and Domination
... Embedded in all relations of domination is a dialectical need that each position has for the other. Consider any such relationship centered around different forms of power. For example, consider the power of parents over children, police over citizens, boss over worker, celebrities over the unfamous, officials over voters, officers over soldiers, clergy over laity, experts over the unskilled, or teachers over students. In each, those in the dominated position (less power) often need or identify with those in the dominant position (more power). Sometimes the whole reason why they are in the subordinated position is due to this need (e.g. children need parental protection and other necessities, laity seek religious guidance, voters want leaders, the unskilled want help, or students require knowledge), whether perceived or real. Consequently, this results in patterns of dependency or identification with one's dominators. Yet, the reverse is true of the dominators: their position of privilege is premised upon needing the presence of those they dominate. Without subordinated workers there are no bosses, if the unfamous do not watch-out for “greatness” there can be no celebrities, officials need voters to put them there, and teachers need students to listen to them. Dominators perceive themselves to be indispensable and may construct an identity for themselves based upon their position of privilege (in respect to others) rather than based on their own intrinsic characteristics. Thus, the very relationship of domination creates adherents who need the unequal relationship to define themselves by. This need illustrates some of the formidable challenges in convincing people to avoid, undermine, or overturn domination.
Sunday, August 28, 2011
More Questions Than Answers: Problems of Conceptual Definition
[Continuation of "Anarchist Movement Epistemology"]
It is very likely that the first question asked by journalists covering protest demonstrations that include the participation of anarchists is: “Who in the hell is an anarchist?” Likewise, most well-intentioned observers would like to know what anarchism is. Thus, the issue of definition is paramount. So, what is “anarchism” and how do we know it “when we see it”? We could approach the identification of “anarchism” from countless vantage points using a variety of methodological approaches. First, we could identify anarchism by its core values: anti-authoritarianism, solidarity, autonomy, mutual aid, liberty, cooperation, decentralization, egalitarianism, direct action, voluntary association, and so forth. If people espouse such values, they are more likely to be anarchists. But, do not many other movements share some of these values? Could non-anarchists not easily adhere to and practice these values without ever realizing they are “anarchist” values? Must we guarantee that all such values are present in order to label something “anarchist”?[1] Does this imply that everything anarchist includes all these traits at all times? And how do we identify these values? If we wait for anarchists to identify these values aloud, we may never notice they are anarchists. We may instead [somewhat] incorrectly categorize many others who use these phrases, but in un-anarchistic ways—for example, many patriotic Americans likely believe in “liberty” as do fanatical consumers who love being able to purchase products created under abominable social and environmental conditions. Yet such “liberty” is very different from that defined by anarchism, who intend it to refer to freedom to live as one chooses, unrestrained by hierarchical power.
Second, we could rely upon people to use the word “anarchist” to describe themselves. We could assume that these self-identified “anarchists” possess anarchist characteristics. Then, by inference we could know what anarchism refers to. But could not anyone simply call themselves an “anarchist” and “make it so”? In fact, this happens semi-regularly, especially in the modern-era. Can capitalists really be anarchists? Sizable collections of ultra-individualists—who seem to have very little real world presence and tend to lurk on the internet together (appropriately so!)—identify as anarcho-capitalists. Murray Rothbard and others may theoretically claim the label of anarchism, but they do not oppose all authority, as other anarchists do—they are highly enamored with markets, class inequality, and authority in the workplace. Thus, most “movement anarchists”--those active in community-based protest movements—argue against the inclusion of these folks in the anarchist camp.[2] Can people who advocate violence against civilians be anarchists? How about people who vote? There are even groupings of people who call themselves “national anarchists”, who subscribe to a thinly-veiled “third position” fascist ideology who identify as anarchists (Macklin 2005)! Spanish anarchist militants who fought Franco in the 1930s would surely roll in their graves knowing the linguistic gymnastics the label “anarchist” is being put through.
The problem plaguing these approaches is that there is no way of “properly” establishing one set of values or social actors as “legitimate” anarchists. The movement lacks an “approval agency” or central committee that could verify memberships or one's adherence to strict party-lines. Perhaps it is the general failure of anarchist politics throughout history that has ironically created its flexibility as well as its promiscuity.[3] Had anarchist been forcefully entrenched somewhere—like Marxist-Leninism was under Stalin's multi-decade rule in the Soviet Union—maybe it would be easier to explicate commonly accepted criteria for anarchism. Instead, all varieties of people with no experience with anarchist history, practice, philosophy, relationships, or understanding, can call themselves anarchists. Consequently, this looseness allows for easy adoption of an anarchist identity, while simultaneously watering down the central factors that make it a distinct movement. This ambiguity not only exists with new recruits and the founders of new “spin-off anarchisms”, but also within the consciously, self-affiliated anarchist movement.[4] The anarchist press debates this question all the time (in newspapers and now on Internet message-boards/listserves): who is or is not an anarchist? To outsiders, this holier-than-thou posturing comes off as sectarian. Such behavior is likely the by-product of a small movement, incidentally populated by a number of paranoid and self-righteous people. The phenomenon is divisive of unity, solidarity. For social scientists, ideological looseness poses a terrible problem of reference and validation. One grouping or ideological subvariant of anarchists thinks the other is not anarchist (and vice-versa); just witness debates between “organizationalists” and “anti-organizationalists”, reds and greens,[5] or anarcho-syndicalists and post-leftists. Who is to be believed? Who is right?
Third, it is confusing enough that adherents disagree about what anarchism is, but the supposedly objective, rational, and learned intellectuals seem to have an equally poor—if not worse—understanding of anarchism. Select nearly any social science or humanities discipline, and one is unlikely to receive a definition of anarchism that is borne of an analysis of current anarchist movements. For example, the political science literature is rife with theorizing of “anarchy”, referring to the international relations between states where no centralized system controls these relations (see Kaplan 2000). Curiously, no one seems terribly bothered by the simple fact that the major actors in this conception of politics are all states! How un-anarchist can such a theory be?[6] In economics the situation is little better: anarchism is apparently best used as a synonym for laissez-faire capitalism, a dog-eat-dog economic system in which each individual must fend for themselves in a Wild West marketplace. Absent again is the easily verifiable history of modern anarchism as an anti-capitalist movement, solidly in opposition to private wealth, greed, and parasitic wage slavery. Philosophy and history are both fond of abstracting the ideas of classical age anarchists or developing new applications to old anarchist ideas; the problem is that these ideas tend to be generated in isolation from actual anarchist movements. For example, philosophers debate anarchist epistemology for science generally, while historians dig deeper into the archives of late 19th century labor unions. Far less emphasis and effort is focused on the here and now. The field of sociology gives scant attention to anarchist characteristics of social order, baffling me and legions of anarchists who seem acute and appropriate students of society. These shortcomings and missed opportunities provide insight into why activists tend to not take intellectuals more seriously.
Notes
[1] One probably needs to consider how these anarchist values persist or perish within all areas of society—not just in the government and economy—including within the family, peer groups, cultural organizations, schools, etc.
[2] For example, the popular Anarchy FAQ (McKaye 2007) includes a thorough critique of so-called “anarcho-capitalism” and gives extensive attention to why such a position is at odds with the anarchist tradition.
[3] This perception that anarchism lacked an agreed-upon core set of values and strategies led some Russian anarchists to create a “platform” that anarchists could subscribe to, thereby uniting anarchists upon some common ground. See Skirda (2002) for more on the Platform.
[4] New recruits—almost by definition—join movements knowing less about them than long-experienced participants. Is it methodologically-appropriate to generalize about a movement if only analyzing the newest participants? Also, new ideological subvariants—new anarchists such as post-leftism, post-structuralist anarchism, primitivism, etc.—regularly define themselves in opposition to other, more-established strands. This requires a selective adoption and rejection.
[5] See Williams (2009a) for a study on red and green anarchist ideological subvariants and their geographic dispersion in the United States.
[6] Thankfully, some recent work in international relations has been done, such as that by Alex Prichard and others, that takes anarchism and its traditions seriously—such as the ideas of P.J. Proudhon—instead of treating “anarchy” as if it were merely a word pulled from a dictionary.
References
Kaplan, Robert D. 2000. The Coming Anarchy: Shattering the Dreams of the Post Cold War. New York: Random House.
Macklin, Graham D. 2005. “Co-opting the Counter Culture: Troy Southgate and the National Revolutionary Faction”. Patterns of Prejudice, 39 (3), September: 301-326.
McKaye, Iain. 2007. An Anarchy FAQ: AFAQ Volume One. Edinburgh: AK Press.
Skirda, Alexandre. 2002. Facing the Enemy: A History of Anarchist Organization from Proudhon to May 1968. Edinburgh: AK Press.
Williams, Dana. 2009a. “Red vs. Green: Regional Variation of Anarchist Ideology in the United States”. Journal of Political Ideologies, 14 (2), June: 189-210.
It is very likely that the first question asked by journalists covering protest demonstrations that include the participation of anarchists is: “Who in the hell is an anarchist?” Likewise, most well-intentioned observers would like to know what anarchism is. Thus, the issue of definition is paramount. So, what is “anarchism” and how do we know it “when we see it”? We could approach the identification of “anarchism” from countless vantage points using a variety of methodological approaches. First, we could identify anarchism by its core values: anti-authoritarianism, solidarity, autonomy, mutual aid, liberty, cooperation, decentralization, egalitarianism, direct action, voluntary association, and so forth. If people espouse such values, they are more likely to be anarchists. But, do not many other movements share some of these values? Could non-anarchists not easily adhere to and practice these values without ever realizing they are “anarchist” values? Must we guarantee that all such values are present in order to label something “anarchist”?[1] Does this imply that everything anarchist includes all these traits at all times? And how do we identify these values? If we wait for anarchists to identify these values aloud, we may never notice they are anarchists. We may instead [somewhat] incorrectly categorize many others who use these phrases, but in un-anarchistic ways—for example, many patriotic Americans likely believe in “liberty” as do fanatical consumers who love being able to purchase products created under abominable social and environmental conditions. Yet such “liberty” is very different from that defined by anarchism, who intend it to refer to freedom to live as one chooses, unrestrained by hierarchical power.
Second, we could rely upon people to use the word “anarchist” to describe themselves. We could assume that these self-identified “anarchists” possess anarchist characteristics. Then, by inference we could know what anarchism refers to. But could not anyone simply call themselves an “anarchist” and “make it so”? In fact, this happens semi-regularly, especially in the modern-era. Can capitalists really be anarchists? Sizable collections of ultra-individualists—who seem to have very little real world presence and tend to lurk on the internet together (appropriately so!)—identify as anarcho-capitalists. Murray Rothbard and others may theoretically claim the label of anarchism, but they do not oppose all authority, as other anarchists do—they are highly enamored with markets, class inequality, and authority in the workplace. Thus, most “movement anarchists”--those active in community-based protest movements—argue against the inclusion of these folks in the anarchist camp.[2] Can people who advocate violence against civilians be anarchists? How about people who vote? There are even groupings of people who call themselves “national anarchists”, who subscribe to a thinly-veiled “third position” fascist ideology who identify as anarchists (Macklin 2005)! Spanish anarchist militants who fought Franco in the 1930s would surely roll in their graves knowing the linguistic gymnastics the label “anarchist” is being put through.
The problem plaguing these approaches is that there is no way of “properly” establishing one set of values or social actors as “legitimate” anarchists. The movement lacks an “approval agency” or central committee that could verify memberships or one's adherence to strict party-lines. Perhaps it is the general failure of anarchist politics throughout history that has ironically created its flexibility as well as its promiscuity.[3] Had anarchist been forcefully entrenched somewhere—like Marxist-Leninism was under Stalin's multi-decade rule in the Soviet Union—maybe it would be easier to explicate commonly accepted criteria for anarchism. Instead, all varieties of people with no experience with anarchist history, practice, philosophy, relationships, or understanding, can call themselves anarchists. Consequently, this looseness allows for easy adoption of an anarchist identity, while simultaneously watering down the central factors that make it a distinct movement. This ambiguity not only exists with new recruits and the founders of new “spin-off anarchisms”, but also within the consciously, self-affiliated anarchist movement.[4] The anarchist press debates this question all the time (in newspapers and now on Internet message-boards/listserves): who is or is not an anarchist? To outsiders, this holier-than-thou posturing comes off as sectarian. Such behavior is likely the by-product of a small movement, incidentally populated by a number of paranoid and self-righteous people. The phenomenon is divisive of unity, solidarity. For social scientists, ideological looseness poses a terrible problem of reference and validation. One grouping or ideological subvariant of anarchists thinks the other is not anarchist (and vice-versa); just witness debates between “organizationalists” and “anti-organizationalists”, reds and greens,[5] or anarcho-syndicalists and post-leftists. Who is to be believed? Who is right?
Third, it is confusing enough that adherents disagree about what anarchism is, but the supposedly objective, rational, and learned intellectuals seem to have an equally poor—if not worse—understanding of anarchism. Select nearly any social science or humanities discipline, and one is unlikely to receive a definition of anarchism that is borne of an analysis of current anarchist movements. For example, the political science literature is rife with theorizing of “anarchy”, referring to the international relations between states where no centralized system controls these relations (see Kaplan 2000). Curiously, no one seems terribly bothered by the simple fact that the major actors in this conception of politics are all states! How un-anarchist can such a theory be?[6] In economics the situation is little better: anarchism is apparently best used as a synonym for laissez-faire capitalism, a dog-eat-dog economic system in which each individual must fend for themselves in a Wild West marketplace. Absent again is the easily verifiable history of modern anarchism as an anti-capitalist movement, solidly in opposition to private wealth, greed, and parasitic wage slavery. Philosophy and history are both fond of abstracting the ideas of classical age anarchists or developing new applications to old anarchist ideas; the problem is that these ideas tend to be generated in isolation from actual anarchist movements. For example, philosophers debate anarchist epistemology for science generally, while historians dig deeper into the archives of late 19th century labor unions. Far less emphasis and effort is focused on the here and now. The field of sociology gives scant attention to anarchist characteristics of social order, baffling me and legions of anarchists who seem acute and appropriate students of society. These shortcomings and missed opportunities provide insight into why activists tend to not take intellectuals more seriously.
Notes
[1] One probably needs to consider how these anarchist values persist or perish within all areas of society—not just in the government and economy—including within the family, peer groups, cultural organizations, schools, etc.
[2] For example, the popular Anarchy FAQ (McKaye 2007) includes a thorough critique of so-called “anarcho-capitalism” and gives extensive attention to why such a position is at odds with the anarchist tradition.
[3] This perception that anarchism lacked an agreed-upon core set of values and strategies led some Russian anarchists to create a “platform” that anarchists could subscribe to, thereby uniting anarchists upon some common ground. See Skirda (2002) for more on the Platform.
[4] New recruits—almost by definition—join movements knowing less about them than long-experienced participants. Is it methodologically-appropriate to generalize about a movement if only analyzing the newest participants? Also, new ideological subvariants—new anarchists such as post-leftism, post-structuralist anarchism, primitivism, etc.—regularly define themselves in opposition to other, more-established strands. This requires a selective adoption and rejection.
[5] See Williams (2009a) for a study on red and green anarchist ideological subvariants and their geographic dispersion in the United States.
[6] Thankfully, some recent work in international relations has been done, such as that by Alex Prichard and others, that takes anarchism and its traditions seriously—such as the ideas of P.J. Proudhon—instead of treating “anarchy” as if it were merely a word pulled from a dictionary.
References
Kaplan, Robert D. 2000. The Coming Anarchy: Shattering the Dreams of the Post Cold War. New York: Random House.
Macklin, Graham D. 2005. “Co-opting the Counter Culture: Troy Southgate and the National Revolutionary Faction”. Patterns of Prejudice, 39 (3), September: 301-326.
McKaye, Iain. 2007. An Anarchy FAQ: AFAQ Volume One. Edinburgh: AK Press.
Skirda, Alexandre. 2002. Facing the Enemy: A History of Anarchist Organization from Proudhon to May 1968. Edinburgh: AK Press.
Williams, Dana. 2009a. “Red vs. Green: Regional Variation of Anarchist Ideology in the United States”. Journal of Political Ideologies, 14 (2), June: 189-210.
Saturday, August 20, 2011
Horizontalism review
Published during 2008 in Peace Review: A Journal of Social Justice, 20: 518-522. The AK Press blog also ran it awhile back.
Horizontalism: Voices of Popular Power in Argentina
Edited by Marina Sitrin, 2006, Oakland, California: AK Press. Pages 251. $18.95 (paper).
Horizontalism is not just the first English-language account of the most recent social movements in Argentina. It is also an in-depth exploration of the ideas—prefigurative politics and direct democracy—driving those movements. Editor Marina Sitrin, considers a variety of topics in turn, including horizontalism, autogestion and recuperated factories, autonomy, creation, power, feminism, and protagonism. As the editor states in her introduction, many of the words currently used in Argentina's movements—such as horizontalidad or autogestion—have no exact English translation, so she rightly keeps the original Spanish word and allows her subjects to explain the new words and their meanings. This approach is appropriate given the dramatic and quick changes taking place that require new language to describe.
Sitrin has compiled a book that has a structure that mimics the very thing it helps to explain. Horizontalism discusses the dramatic changes in social life in Argentina following a devastating financial crisis in 2001—changes that created wide-spread democratic, autonomous, self-determined, collective-minded, and empowering groupings and organizations—by the use of passionate and articulate oral histories. Following the premise of horizontalism, Argentina's movements respect the diversity of participating voices, and this book's characters provide an equally nuanced and diverse explanation of movement activities. Just like in their popular assemblies, the book's subjects generally agree on what they describe, but there are large, healthy portions of comradely disagreement. Each interviewee contributes his or her own understandings of a variety of phenomena occurring in Argentina, ranging from the December 2001 rebellion, reclaimed and cooperative factories, and neighborhood assemblies, to a movement of unemployed workers, feminism, middle-class revolt, and horizontalism.
During the past few years, activist documentaries have been permeating the political left, films like The Fourth World War, The Take, and i: Argentina, Indymedia, and the Questions of Communication. These films have introduced English-speaking audiences to upheaval taking place in this country and have favorably displayed the creative actions of everyday Argentinians for all to see. This book adds the necessary texture and analysis to the social revolution presented in the films. Who would not be inspired? Or at least shaken (and depending who you are, maybe even scared) to the bone? This social revolution is not one that is debated by arm-chair Marxists or heady intellectuals in the Ivory Tower. The revolution—and in some respects, Argentina's very future—appears in the tight control of the movement participants themselves.
The book details the social revolution following the economic crisis of late-2001, and in doing so, reveals the new language and vision of Argentina's social movements. Within the span of a few weeks, five successive governments disintegrated as countless thousands of citizens gathered outside the Presidential palace in Buenos Aires chanting “¡Que se vayan todos!” (“they all must go!”). People met by the hundreds on street corners and held meetings (assembleas) with their neighbors—by consensus—after reading chalked messages on sidewalks asking for people to converge at a certain time (horizontalidad). In these assemblies, neighbors discussed community problems and worked collectively to address needs unmet by conventional government. Workers who had been unemployed by corporations fleeing the ruinous economy decided to seize and cooperatize their former workplaces and run the machines themselves (autogestion). Other unemployed workers organized into small-trades with each other, while creating road blockades to prevent corporate trucks for carrying products and raw materials of Argentina out of the country (piqueteros). And families and whole communities occupied spaces as varied as abandoned land and bankrupt banks, turning them into squatter neighborhoods and community centers.
Social movement participants interviewed in the book name-drop the various influences and inspirations for the explosion of activism and social revolution. Some mention Zapatismo, others the patron-saint of the Argentinean radical left, Che Guevara, and one mentions the circulation of John Holloway's book Change the World Without Taking Power amongst the movement. However, most interviewees say the horizontal approach bubbled-up naturally from the bottom and was formed out of necessity. In fact, movements' self-organization is derived from the failure of all establishment methods; to succeed, movements had to do things in a radically different way.
The book's best contribution for readers interested in social theory, is likely to be its insights into radical democracy and decentralization. Democracy—something frequently talked about by scholars, pundits, and politicians, but rarely attempted (or achieved) in the real world—is being theorized in tandem with everyday practice by Argentinians trying to find popular, empowering, and autonomous ways of acting to support themselves in both a weak economy and reeling political state. “Horizontalism” is the name that Argentina's movement use to describe this approach to democratic decision-making. It serves as a way to decentralize the power held formerly in the political party machines and re-distribute it amongst people who are clearly interested in making more active use of such power. The recuperated workplaces serve as a dramatic economic example of horizontalism: workers self-managing their jobs via direct democracy and not allowing decision-making (or profit) to be centralized in the hands of managers and owners.
With all these heady efforts to transform institutions and social relations, it is difficult for a reader to resist comparisons to other incipient, revolutionary situations. The Spanish Civil War of 1936 is an ideal reference point: both Argentina and Spain include the rise in cross-movement solidarity, the de-centering of political authority, the appropriation of land and workplaces, large networks of counter-institutions established to sustain alternatives to hierarchical institutions, and a spirited increase in rebelliousness and optimism. Yet, elements which did and can prove detrimental to sustained movement activity are also present in both examples: increased repression by the counter-revolutionary forces (primarily the state and its police), leeching of energy by the authoritarian left (and electorally-oriented liberals in Argentina), and rough, never-ending vigilance against a re-establishment of centralized power. The Spanish experiment in anarchism was militarily crushed by Stalinists and fascists in-turn; the fate of Argentina's horizontalism remains to be seen.
Horizontalism's prose is powerful, but more importantly, clearer than most academic writing, a benefit clearly attributable to the non-academic origins of the participants. Consequently, the book is on-topic, intricate, and treats complex ideas thoroughly—using straight-forward language in a compelling interview-style format. Sitrin expertly edits her interviews to encapsulate the various threads into chapters that are (relatively) neatly packaged and cohesive. Still, as with any social movement still in its formative stages, the book's main sister topics (horizontalism, autogestion, autonomy, etc.) have many points of overlap and potential synonym confusion, which may cause some readers to struggle to keep ideas separate and unique (particularly given most English-speakers' inexperience with these concepts and practices). Equally, by the end of each chapter, there is a fair amount of repetition on many points, which may lead a reader to become slightly impatient—but redundancy is to be expected in an oral history. The book also includes a good number of photos (over 60), and while none are large resolution, they help prop open a compelling window into the surreal and normal aspects of the extraordinary events being described.
I do have a few questions, concerns, and issues I would have liked to see included or discussed. First, there are no dates attached to the interview snippets, leaving the reader curious as to what point in time the events related by interviewees occurred. Are these reflections from the immediate aftermath of the 2001 rebellion? Or the result of a few years worth of gestation and internalization? Enthusiasm in the wake of the economic crisis is predictable; but, if people's passions remain years later while organizations and practices are solidifying, then the movements have been gathering a terrific momentum even after the initial outburst.
Even though autogestion, horizontalism, autonomy, and other ideas are intricately described by the interviewees, few arguments against the merit of these ideas are offered. It makes sense that activists would be generally supportive of the ideas dominating their movements, yet it is curious that there are few (even friendly) criticisms of the overall agenda. Do popular arguments exist, perhaps outside the movements, that criticize the goals or methods of these ideas? Equally important, it is difficult to know how widespread the ideas and practices described are, not to mention the movements that such things are embedded within. One could calculate the size of the movement based on the estimated population of Argentina and the eye-witness accounts of participant accounts at events or in organizations. Still, Sitrin's subjects do not speak to the numbers involved in assemblies or other neighborhood projects, or the ratio of those who would prefer to engage in horizontal activities compared to party politics (or neither). Of course, such questions may serve as an interesting future research project for a curious quantitative-oriented social scientist.
Finally, while the response to Argentina's newest movements by the Right has been clear—repression and smear-campaigns—what is the “established Left” (parties, unions, etc.) currently doing in Argentina and what has their overall response been to these movements? Cooptation has occurred in some instances, it appears, but have there been efforts to appropriate the movements' ideology to the advantage of parties? Political systems do, of course, try all they can to absorb and redirect outpourings of dissent and creative expression. Thus, if the horizontal tendency in Argentina's newest movements is to remain, holding off the incursion of formal, representative politics seems paramount. Although these may be frustrating and open-questions, in reality they are minor issues that should not tarnish an otherwise excellent book.
It was incredibly difficult to pry myself away from this book and I found it easy to imagine an excited tone of the voices behind the transcribed words. I think, this engaging content is relevant and important for two audiences. The first would be anyone who cannot imagine everyday people's ability to self-organize in a directly-democratic fashion, without the use of bureaucracy, elected representatives, or charismatic leaders. A second audience would be anyone who knows that such possibilities exist but have yet to witness such an eloquent description of such futures. Sitrin's volume will surely inspire and fascinate students of social movements, organizations, and social change, as much as it will inspire activists wishing to emulate Argentina's impressive moves towards horizontalism.
It is tempting to wonder aloud if similar precipitating factors, such as an economic collapse in the US, could trigger a popular rebellion like that witnessed in Argentina. If anything, this book conveys a strong sense of optimism and faith in human potential that generates confidence in our neighbors and fellow citizens given a possible future collapse as devastating as Argentina's.
Horizontalism: Voices of Popular Power in Argentina
Edited by Marina Sitrin, 2006, Oakland, California: AK Press. Pages 251. $18.95 (paper).
Horizontalism is not just the first English-language account of the most recent social movements in Argentina. It is also an in-depth exploration of the ideas—prefigurative politics and direct democracy—driving those movements. Editor Marina Sitrin, considers a variety of topics in turn, including horizontalism, autogestion and recuperated factories, autonomy, creation, power, feminism, and protagonism. As the editor states in her introduction, many of the words currently used in Argentina's movements—such as horizontalidad or autogestion—have no exact English translation, so she rightly keeps the original Spanish word and allows her subjects to explain the new words and their meanings. This approach is appropriate given the dramatic and quick changes taking place that require new language to describe.
Sitrin has compiled a book that has a structure that mimics the very thing it helps to explain. Horizontalism discusses the dramatic changes in social life in Argentina following a devastating financial crisis in 2001—changes that created wide-spread democratic, autonomous, self-determined, collective-minded, and empowering groupings and organizations—by the use of passionate and articulate oral histories. Following the premise of horizontalism, Argentina's movements respect the diversity of participating voices, and this book's characters provide an equally nuanced and diverse explanation of movement activities. Just like in their popular assemblies, the book's subjects generally agree on what they describe, but there are large, healthy portions of comradely disagreement. Each interviewee contributes his or her own understandings of a variety of phenomena occurring in Argentina, ranging from the December 2001 rebellion, reclaimed and cooperative factories, and neighborhood assemblies, to a movement of unemployed workers, feminism, middle-class revolt, and horizontalism.
During the past few years, activist documentaries have been permeating the political left, films like The Fourth World War, The Take, and i: Argentina, Indymedia, and the Questions of Communication. These films have introduced English-speaking audiences to upheaval taking place in this country and have favorably displayed the creative actions of everyday Argentinians for all to see. This book adds the necessary texture and analysis to the social revolution presented in the films. Who would not be inspired? Or at least shaken (and depending who you are, maybe even scared) to the bone? This social revolution is not one that is debated by arm-chair Marxists or heady intellectuals in the Ivory Tower. The revolution—and in some respects, Argentina's very future—appears in the tight control of the movement participants themselves.
The book details the social revolution following the economic crisis of late-2001, and in doing so, reveals the new language and vision of Argentina's social movements. Within the span of a few weeks, five successive governments disintegrated as countless thousands of citizens gathered outside the Presidential palace in Buenos Aires chanting “¡Que se vayan todos!” (“they all must go!”). People met by the hundreds on street corners and held meetings (assembleas) with their neighbors—by consensus—after reading chalked messages on sidewalks asking for people to converge at a certain time (horizontalidad). In these assemblies, neighbors discussed community problems and worked collectively to address needs unmet by conventional government. Workers who had been unemployed by corporations fleeing the ruinous economy decided to seize and cooperatize their former workplaces and run the machines themselves (autogestion). Other unemployed workers organized into small-trades with each other, while creating road blockades to prevent corporate trucks for carrying products and raw materials of Argentina out of the country (piqueteros). And families and whole communities occupied spaces as varied as abandoned land and bankrupt banks, turning them into squatter neighborhoods and community centers.
Social movement participants interviewed in the book name-drop the various influences and inspirations for the explosion of activism and social revolution. Some mention Zapatismo, others the patron-saint of the Argentinean radical left, Che Guevara, and one mentions the circulation of John Holloway's book Change the World Without Taking Power amongst the movement. However, most interviewees say the horizontal approach bubbled-up naturally from the bottom and was formed out of necessity. In fact, movements' self-organization is derived from the failure of all establishment methods; to succeed, movements had to do things in a radically different way.
The book's best contribution for readers interested in social theory, is likely to be its insights into radical democracy and decentralization. Democracy—something frequently talked about by scholars, pundits, and politicians, but rarely attempted (or achieved) in the real world—is being theorized in tandem with everyday practice by Argentinians trying to find popular, empowering, and autonomous ways of acting to support themselves in both a weak economy and reeling political state. “Horizontalism” is the name that Argentina's movement use to describe this approach to democratic decision-making. It serves as a way to decentralize the power held formerly in the political party machines and re-distribute it amongst people who are clearly interested in making more active use of such power. The recuperated workplaces serve as a dramatic economic example of horizontalism: workers self-managing their jobs via direct democracy and not allowing decision-making (or profit) to be centralized in the hands of managers and owners.
With all these heady efforts to transform institutions and social relations, it is difficult for a reader to resist comparisons to other incipient, revolutionary situations. The Spanish Civil War of 1936 is an ideal reference point: both Argentina and Spain include the rise in cross-movement solidarity, the de-centering of political authority, the appropriation of land and workplaces, large networks of counter-institutions established to sustain alternatives to hierarchical institutions, and a spirited increase in rebelliousness and optimism. Yet, elements which did and can prove detrimental to sustained movement activity are also present in both examples: increased repression by the counter-revolutionary forces (primarily the state and its police), leeching of energy by the authoritarian left (and electorally-oriented liberals in Argentina), and rough, never-ending vigilance against a re-establishment of centralized power. The Spanish experiment in anarchism was militarily crushed by Stalinists and fascists in-turn; the fate of Argentina's horizontalism remains to be seen.
Horizontalism's prose is powerful, but more importantly, clearer than most academic writing, a benefit clearly attributable to the non-academic origins of the participants. Consequently, the book is on-topic, intricate, and treats complex ideas thoroughly—using straight-forward language in a compelling interview-style format. Sitrin expertly edits her interviews to encapsulate the various threads into chapters that are (relatively) neatly packaged and cohesive. Still, as with any social movement still in its formative stages, the book's main sister topics (horizontalism, autogestion, autonomy, etc.) have many points of overlap and potential synonym confusion, which may cause some readers to struggle to keep ideas separate and unique (particularly given most English-speakers' inexperience with these concepts and practices). Equally, by the end of each chapter, there is a fair amount of repetition on many points, which may lead a reader to become slightly impatient—but redundancy is to be expected in an oral history. The book also includes a good number of photos (over 60), and while none are large resolution, they help prop open a compelling window into the surreal and normal aspects of the extraordinary events being described.
I do have a few questions, concerns, and issues I would have liked to see included or discussed. First, there are no dates attached to the interview snippets, leaving the reader curious as to what point in time the events related by interviewees occurred. Are these reflections from the immediate aftermath of the 2001 rebellion? Or the result of a few years worth of gestation and internalization? Enthusiasm in the wake of the economic crisis is predictable; but, if people's passions remain years later while organizations and practices are solidifying, then the movements have been gathering a terrific momentum even after the initial outburst.
Even though autogestion, horizontalism, autonomy, and other ideas are intricately described by the interviewees, few arguments against the merit of these ideas are offered. It makes sense that activists would be generally supportive of the ideas dominating their movements, yet it is curious that there are few (even friendly) criticisms of the overall agenda. Do popular arguments exist, perhaps outside the movements, that criticize the goals or methods of these ideas? Equally important, it is difficult to know how widespread the ideas and practices described are, not to mention the movements that such things are embedded within. One could calculate the size of the movement based on the estimated population of Argentina and the eye-witness accounts of participant accounts at events or in organizations. Still, Sitrin's subjects do not speak to the numbers involved in assemblies or other neighborhood projects, or the ratio of those who would prefer to engage in horizontal activities compared to party politics (or neither). Of course, such questions may serve as an interesting future research project for a curious quantitative-oriented social scientist.
Finally, while the response to Argentina's newest movements by the Right has been clear—repression and smear-campaigns—what is the “established Left” (parties, unions, etc.) currently doing in Argentina and what has their overall response been to these movements? Cooptation has occurred in some instances, it appears, but have there been efforts to appropriate the movements' ideology to the advantage of parties? Political systems do, of course, try all they can to absorb and redirect outpourings of dissent and creative expression. Thus, if the horizontal tendency in Argentina's newest movements is to remain, holding off the incursion of formal, representative politics seems paramount. Although these may be frustrating and open-questions, in reality they are minor issues that should not tarnish an otherwise excellent book.
It was incredibly difficult to pry myself away from this book and I found it easy to imagine an excited tone of the voices behind the transcribed words. I think, this engaging content is relevant and important for two audiences. The first would be anyone who cannot imagine everyday people's ability to self-organize in a directly-democratic fashion, without the use of bureaucracy, elected representatives, or charismatic leaders. A second audience would be anyone who knows that such possibilities exist but have yet to witness such an eloquent description of such futures. Sitrin's volume will surely inspire and fascinate students of social movements, organizations, and social change, as much as it will inspire activists wishing to emulate Argentina's impressive moves towards horizontalism.
It is tempting to wonder aloud if similar precipitating factors, such as an economic collapse in the US, could trigger a popular rebellion like that witnessed in Argentina. If anything, this book conveys a strong sense of optimism and faith in human potential that generates confidence in our neighbors and fellow citizens given a possible future collapse as devastating as Argentina's.
Monday, June 13, 2011
Sampling of Anarchists Discussing Sociology
Curiously, anarchists were kinder to sociology, than the sociologists were about anarchism. Still, anarchists had the tendency to either view sociology as a great intellectual liberator (and even the basis upon which "socialist" thought rested) or as a shill for the system, obscuring reality and justifying the status quo (although this indictment also seems to broadly include many other scholarly/academic disciplines, too)...
Alexander Berkman:
"Learned men have written big books, many of them, on sociology, psychology, and many other 'ologies', to tell you what you want, but no two of those books ever agree. And yet I think that you know very well without them what you want."
Voltairine de Cleyre:
"He [Mozersky] questioned me into all kinds of holes, from which I extricated myself most awkwardly, only to flounder into others he had smilingly dug while I was getting out of the first ones. The necessity of a better foundation became apparent: hence began a course of study in the principles of sociology and of modern Socialism and Anarchism as presented in their regular journals."
Emma Goldman:
"There are many who deny the possibility of such regeneration on the ground that human nature cannot change. Those who insist that human nature remains the same at all times have learned nothing and forgotten nothing. They certainly have not the faintest idea of the tremendous strides that have been made in sociology and psychology, proving beyond a shadow of a doubt that human nature is plastic and can be changed. Human nature is by no means a fixed quantity. Rather, it is fluid and responsive to new conditions."
Peter Kropotkin:
"To maintain this superstition whole systems of philosophy have been elaborated and taught; all politics are based on this principle; and each politician, whatever his colours, comes forward and says to the people, "Give me the power, and I both can and will free you from the miseries which press so heavily upon you." From the cradle to the grave all our actions are guided by this principle. Open any book on sociology or jurisprudence, and you will find there the Government, its organization, its acts, filling so large a place that we come to believe that there is nothing outside the Government and the world of statesmen."
Alexander Berkman:
"Learned men have written big books, many of them, on sociology, psychology, and many other 'ologies', to tell you what you want, but no two of those books ever agree. And yet I think that you know very well without them what you want."
Voltairine de Cleyre:
"He [Mozersky] questioned me into all kinds of holes, from which I extricated myself most awkwardly, only to flounder into others he had smilingly dug while I was getting out of the first ones. The necessity of a better foundation became apparent: hence began a course of study in the principles of sociology and of modern Socialism and Anarchism as presented in their regular journals."
Emma Goldman:
"There are many who deny the possibility of such regeneration on the ground that human nature cannot change. Those who insist that human nature remains the same at all times have learned nothing and forgotten nothing. They certainly have not the faintest idea of the tremendous strides that have been made in sociology and psychology, proving beyond a shadow of a doubt that human nature is plastic and can be changed. Human nature is by no means a fixed quantity. Rather, it is fluid and responsive to new conditions."
Peter Kropotkin:
"To maintain this superstition whole systems of philosophy have been elaborated and taught; all politics are based on this principle; and each politician, whatever his colours, comes forward and says to the people, "Give me the power, and I both can and will free you from the miseries which press so heavily upon you." From the cradle to the grave all our actions are guided by this principle. Open any book on sociology or jurisprudence, and you will find there the Government, its organization, its acts, filling so large a place that we come to believe that there is nothing outside the Government and the world of statesmen."
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