Matthew Wilson - Rules Without Rulers: The Possibilities and Limits of Anarchism

First published by Zero Books, 2014

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Text copyright: Matthew Wilson 2013

ISBN: 978 1 78279 007 5

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This book would not exist if it were not for the love and support of my family, and it is dedicated to them for good reason for Mum, Dad, Paul, Holly, Ernest and Aurora.

Although there are many forms of social organisation that exist throughout the world, there is one which everyone, and everything, is undoubtedly affected by. This system, which is often referred to as liberal democracy, but is perhaps more accurately termed polyarchic capitalism, can be defined in numerous ways. For now, let us say just two things about it: first, it isnt working; second, it is nonetheless flourishing. We are immersed in this system, and immersed in the multiple crises that flow from it; these crises are economic, political, social, and environmental. We might also add cultural and moral to the list. Individuals, humans and non-humans alike, suffer in their billions, and the planet itself is increasingly under strain. Actually, the planet will do just fine; but the things that currently live on it might not fare too well, as resources as basic as clean air and fresh water dwindle, and as pollution and waste increase. We know all this. Yet here we are, seemingly incapable of making the necessary changes. In part, this is because we cannot agree on which changes are in fact necessary; can we stop at light-bulbs, or do we need to change capitalism too? And what about the state? What about us?

Despite the plurality of visions for another world, there is an increasingly visible trend towards relocalising. Whether they are involved in the Green party, Transition Towns, Earth First!, or countless other more or less radical campaigns, a rapidly growing number of people are coming to believe that the hierarchical and centralised systems we currently live under have had their day, and that, conversely, from food production to politics, it is high time we started to take genuine control over our daily lives. If we didnt already call the system we have democratic, it might be a little easier to capture the spirit of this trend; we might then say we are quite simply witnessing a movement towards democracy. But we are told we already have democracy. So what is this movement? Is it a move towards a real democracy? If so, what would that mean? Or are we working towards something else? Even if we could agree on where we wanted to get to, could we agree on how to get there?

As we ponder such questions, we look around us to see what is going so self-evidently and catastrophically wrong; but as we search for answers, where then do we turn our gaze? For some, the answer is in plain sight, waiting impatiently to be grasped; anarchism. What better way to deal with a corrupt political system than to somehow depose that system in its entirety? What better way to empower people to take control over their own lives than to build a new politics, a new world, from the bottom-up, with us, each of us, all of us, in control? That is, after all, what anarchism calls for. Yet despite its increasing popularity, and although many of its most basic principles chime with countless other political tendencies, perhaps less radical, but equally impatient for change, anarchism is not what most of us turn to in search for answers. Without knowing it, many people now employ some of its ideas, accept many of its critiques, echo some of its demands; yet we are far from witnessing widespread and wholehearted acceptance of anarchism as a viable alternative. Why not?

Although there are many ways to answer such a question, the following work is ultimately an attempt to address just one reason why anarchism remains a distant dream. That reason? Anarchism. We can blame the corporate media, blame the police, the state, the schools and the history books, none of which do anarchism any real favours; but if anarchism is ever to grow, to inspire, to challenge, it is anarchism itself which needs to be rethought and rearticulated. Although there is much to be said for plenty of anarchist theory and practice, on the whole it is a political movement, a political idea, which is struggling to present itself as a viable alternative. Of perhaps more concern still is how few anarchists appear bothered by this. For too long now, anarchists have avoided asking themselves whether the overwhelming indifference (or worse) towards anarchism may not be at least in part due to the way anarchists themselves have defended their cause. It has been all too easy to blame the people that just dont get it. Although I believe there are far too few critical voices from within the anarchist world, I am not entirely alone in challenging anarchism in this way.

Indeed, numerous critics over the years have made their own particular claims about anarchisms shortcomings, refusing to accept key anarchist views as unquestioned orthodoxy. There is of course no clear cut line between these more critical thinkers and others who have tended to be less so, but I would certainly highlight the work of Gustav Landauer, Errico Malatesta and Michael Taylor. Colin Ward was another such critical friend of anarchism, and I share his concerns with the question of whether or not anarchism is respectable. In asking this question, notes Ward, I am not concerned about the way we dress, or whether our private lives conform to a statistical norm, or how we earn our living, but with the quality of our anarchist ideas: are our ideas worthy of respect? (quoted in White 2007, 11). Though I say this with a deep sense of personal regret, not to mention an uneasy feeling of betraying those who have fought and died for anarchism, as well as countless friends involved in anarchist struggles, the answer to Colin Wards question must, at present, be a resounding no.

Anarchism, it has been said, lies like a seed, buried beneath the weight of the state. True enough. But who will tend to it, help it flourish and grow, when what it offers is so vague, so simplistic, so one-sided? People are impatient for change, and even many of those involved in far less radical politics could be easily convinced that more, much more, needs to be done. But to take the leap that anarchism requires, to demand and fight for such a profound change, to run the risk of dismantling capitalism and the state only to find ourselves in an even worse situation, to ask people to do this will require an anarchism that is ready and able to answer the challenging questions that people will quite reasonably ask of it. It is clear that it matters little what horrors our system throws at us, as long as we are left without an alternative. At present, anarchism is not giving people the confidence to believe it can offer that. Fortunately, there is no reason why it cannot do this. At least, no good reason. Through the usual trappings of ideology, not to mention the subtle but powerful blocks to criticism that arise through personal relationships (after all, to criticise a movement is to in some way criticise our friends within it), political cultures have a highly developed immune system; sadly, they keep themselves immune, not from external threats, but from internal critique. Anarchists see this clearly when it comes to capitalism, or communism; when it comes to themselves, the blinkers are there to protect them just the same. It is time we took the blinkers off, stopped, or at least paused, from our critique of the world out there, and looked inwards. People will be convinced by our arguments only when our arguments are convincing.