The Anarchist Handbook is a collection of essays from prominent anarchist thinkers that gives a diverse, yet dissonant perspective on the anarchist idea. Arranged by Michael malice, beginning chronologically in 1793, the reader can observe the development of ideas over time. As well as, interestingly, the influence of each writer’s home state on their thinking. Malice closes the book with his own essay, Why I Won’t Vote This Year – Or Any Year (2014).
I had never given much thought to anarchy until I happened to meet a handful of living, breathing and generally wonderful people, who were also anarchists. Something jarred in my brain when I observed that they weren’t dressed all over in black, poised to hurl Molotov cocktails at any vaguely institutional building.
I imagine that most people who shudder at the idea of reading a “handbook” about anarchism, probably also couldn’t give a definition of it, other than the vague idea of tearing things down – both literally and figuratively. Odd given the popularity in recent times of tearing down statues.
So, I was intrigued. Partially by the shroud of mystery that surrounds anarchy – it is a little hard to put your finger on exactly what it is and isn’t. And partly because of my own natural anti-authoritarian bent. Having discovered Michael Malice on the IDW podcast circuit, I decided to check out his book.
The essays cover authors from the United States, England, Russia, Germany, Ukraine, and France. Their writerly styles vary widely. Some essays were a slog to get through, a meandering stream-of-consciousness in which the writer would mull over their central point for page after page in what could have easily been simmered down to a quarter of the length. Conversely, though, there are pieces that are delightfully well written, short and to the point, but that also don’t rush through over-explaining the author’s thinking and concepts, and these I thoroughly enjoyed.
The common association of anarchy as violence is suggested to have come from the German politician, Johann Most. In his introduction to the chapter, Malice attributes to Most the conflation of the terms “anarchist” and “terrorist”. The text is taken from the introduction of The Science of Revolutionary Warfare: A Little Handbook of Instruction in the Use and Preparation of Nitroglycerine, Dynamite, Gun-Cotton, Fulminating Mercury, Bombs, Fuses, Poisons, Etc., Etc. (1883). Yep…That’s a real thing. It plainly speaks of the urgency with which anyone and everyone must obtain as much dynamite as possible for the forthcoming revolution. Blatantly lacking in any intellectual discussion of the motives or reasons for revolution, Most simply appeals to the revolutionary spirit of man, i.e., that stating there is a battle is often enough to invite some portion of people to join in. This is the scary side of anarchy that causes many to detest it all together.
In contrast, one of my favourite anarchist ideas is the decentralisation of power, which can sound vague and nigh-impossible to those of us that have grown up in countries with a government. It is often also misinterpreted to mean the total abandonment of all hierarchical structures. This would also be bound to fail because, in the resulting power vacuum, some group of people would inevitably seize power. The virtues of this idea are that it attempts to asymptote toward an egalitarian society in which individuals both trust each other and can be trusted to fulfil their individual mission. The problem here is Dunbar’s number, the theoretical maximum number of relationships one human can maintain. Humans tend to act altruistically to people they personally know, but we are yet to find a way to scale this up beyond the 150-200 people that Dunbar predicts. It could be argued that every type of human society has been an attempt – and a failure – to solve this problem. My personal interpretation of decentralisation is that it seeks to move power down from the top-heavy elite, and to smaller, more localised regional governments that are closer (geographically and emotionally) to those that they govern. In essence, placing government where it is essential, and where it is surplus, to remove it altogether and allow individuals the freedom to govern their own lives. I personally like this because it counters our current image of the ignorant masses. The idea that the general populous needs governing in so many areas in order to solve its problems is awfully infantilising, especially when many issues have been caused by bad governmental actions of the past under the guise of doing good.
With regards to building a functioning and sustainable human society, anarchy holds many great ideas. Paradoxically, once we decide we want them, we re-brand them as socialism, liberalism or some other more acceptable banner and fold them into the works of our society. There are some libertarian ideas central to anarchy too – but should we agree with those, suddenly they are no longer anarchist, but plausible. Perhaps anarchy is the melting pot of ideas that are yet to be tried, but in general look at current society and say, “fuck this, we can do better”.
So, did I come out of this book a fully-fledged anarchist? No. Did I learn a lot that is valuable? Yes. I’m not convinced that anarchy is a doctrine around which a successful society could or should be built if nothing else due to its sheer lack of coherence. What I see is a way of thinking that reacts and responds to the current power structures and institutions. Having these ideas floating around in our society is essential to seed ideas that balance against the tendency to authoritarianism and tyranny.
Overall, I’m glad I read this book, though it was slow and dry in parts. I learned much that I had never considered before. Though named ‘the handbook’ this is no how-to guide, but rather a decent exposé of anarchist thinking that allows the reader to peruse, take the good bits and leave the bad bits as they like. I would recommend to anyone curious to understand what anarchy is, anyone interested in general politics, or the history of anarchism.