Dissonances
by Alfredo Bonanno
The
dissonance lies in the content of these arguments.
But by remaining in the content, crystallising itself In the place for
saying (and even doing) they could also become elements of recuperation, food
for future conservative thought, new uniforms (of a different colour), new
'idols'(in a more agreeable format). There are no definitive recipes not even
dissonances, capable of breaking the rhythm that constantly envelops us.
Yet dissonance has something else to offer.
Something meaningful appears in the crossroads of rhythms between
re-evoked facts, the time of writing and the time of fruition, that is, in the
task freely taken on by the reader one perceives a content which is something
other than the single arguments, the ways of seeing and the saying of ways. In
letting oneself be struck by dissonance one is not illuminated, one does not
fall prostrate on the road to Damascus but simply creates air around one S
thoughts, that is, one lets inadvertence enter the field of codification. The
range off arguments itself opens the way to unpredictable unions that were not
intended during the phase of writing, and were probably not problems as such
even in the factual phase. Dissonance therefore acts like a catalyst for casual
openings that cannot be controlled. Just one warning: do not let yourself get
panicky about meaning.
If dissonance is an integral part of harmony and constitutes the other
outcome, one that is always foreseeable and even desirable, its ,free
coagulation in processes of aleatory fruition produces something else, a
rupture that is not easily amendable .May others respect the complete cycle in
the reassuring riverbed of meaning, with which the water carriers quench our
fears, but elsewhere. Here one is proposing a reading that is itself a risk: a
chance, a journey open to other possibilities.
Chance is yet to be discovered, if nothing else in its connection with
chaos. But even that is yet to be discovered, at least in connection with
spontaneous order See you elsewhere. AMB
WHAT CAN
WE DO WITH
ANTI-FASCISM?
The fox knows many
things. The porcupine only one, but it is great
Archilochus
Fascism
is a seven-letter word beginning with F. Human beings like playing with words
which, by partly concealing reality, absolve them from personal reflection or
having to make decisions. The symbol acts in our place, supplying us with a
flag and an alibi.
And
when we put 'anti-' in front of the symbol it is not simply a question of being
against what absolutely disgusts us. We feel safe that we are on the other side
and have done our duty. Having recourse to that 'anti-' gives us a clear
conscience, enclosing us in a well-guarded and much frequented field.
Meanwhile
things move on. The years go by and so do power relations. New bosses take the
place of the old and the tragic coffin of power is passed from one hand to the
next. The fascists of yesteryear have complied with the democratic game and
handed over their flags and swastikas to a few madmen. And why not? That is the
way of men of power. The chit-chat comes and goes, political realism is
eternal. But we, who know little or nothing of politics, are embarressedly
asking ourselves whatever has happened given that the blackshirted,
club-bearing fascists we once fought so resolutely are disappearing from the
scene. So, like headless chickens we are looking for a new scapegoat against
which we can unleash our all-too-ready hatred, while everything around us is
becoming more subtle and mellow and power is calling on us to enter into
dialogue: But please step forward, say what you have to say, it's not a
problem! Don't forget, we're living in a democracy, everyone has the right to
say what they like. Others listen, agree or disagree, then sheer numbers decide
the game. The majority win and the minority are left with the right to continue
to disagree. So long as everything remains within the dialectic of taking
sides.
If
we were to reduce the question of fascism to words, we would be forced to admit
it had all been a game Perhaps a dream 'Mussolini, an honest
man, a great politician. He made mistakes. But who didn't? Then he got out of
control. He was betrayed. We were all betrayed. Fascist mythology? Leave it at
that! There's no point in thinking about such relics of the past.'
'Hitler',
Klausmann recounts, sarcastically portraying the me-tality of Gerhart
Hauptmann, the old theoretician of political realism, 'in the last analysis ...
my dear friends! ... no bad feelings! let's try to be... no, if you don't mind,
... allow me ... objective ... can 1 get you another drink? This champagne...
really extraordinary--Hitler the man, I mean ... the champagne as well, for
that matter an absolutely extraordinary evolution ... German youth... about
seven million votes ... as I have often said to my Jewish friends ... these Germans...
incredible nation... truly mysterious
...cosmic impulses...Goethe ... the saga of dynamic ... elementary
irresistible tendencies...'
No, not at the level of small talk.
Differences get hazy over a glass of good wine and everything becomes a matter
of opinion. Because, and this is the important thing, there are differences,
not between fascism and antifascism but between those who want power and those
who fight against it and refuse it. But at what level are the foundations of
these differences to be found?
By having recourse analysis? I don't think
so.
Historians
are the most useful category of idiots in the service of power. They think they
know a lot but the more they furiously study documents, the more that is all
they know: documents which incontrovertibly attest what happened, the will of
the individual imprisoned in the rationality of the event. The equivalent of
truth and fact. To consider anything else possible is a mere literary pastime.
If the historian has the faintest glimmer of intelligence, he moves over to
philosophy immediately, immersing himself in common anguish and such like.
Tales of deeds, fairy-tale gnomes and enchanted castles. Meanwhile the world
around us settles into the hands of the powerful and their revision-book
culture, unable to tell the difference between a document and a baked potato.
'If man's will were free', writes Tolstoy in War and Peace, 'the whole
of history would be a series of fortuitous events... if instead there is one
single law governing man's actions, free will cannot exist, because man's will
must be subject to those laws.'
The
fact is that historians are useful, especially for supplying us with elements
of comfort, alibis and psychological crutches. How courageous the Communards of
1871 were! They died like brave men against the wall at Pere Lachaise! And the
reader gets excited and prepares to die as well if necessary, against the next
wall of the communards. Waiting for social forces to put us in the condition of
dying as heroes gets us through everyday life, usually to the threshold of
death without this occasion ever presenting itself. Historical trends are not
all that exact. Give or take a decade, we might miss this opportunity and find
ourselves empty handed.
If
you ever want to measure a historian's imbecility, get him to reason on things
that are in the making rather than on the past. It will be a mind-opener!
No,
not historical analysis: Perhaps political or political-philosophical
discussion, the kind we have become accustomed to reading in recent years.
Fascism is something one minute, and something else the next. The technique for
making these analyses is soon told. They take
the Hegelian mechanism of asserting and contradicting at the
same time (something similar to the critique of arms that becomes an arm of
criticism), and extract a seemingly clear affirmation about anything that comes
to mind at the time. It's like that feeling of disillusionment you get when,
after running to catch a bus you realise that the driver, although he saw you,
has accelerated instead of stopping.
Well.
in that case one can demonstrate, and I think Adorno has done, that it is
precisely a vague unconscious frustration-caused by the life that is escaping
us which we cannot grasp-which surges up. making us want to kill the driver
Such are the mysteries of Hegelian logic! So, fascism gradually becomes less
contemptible. Because inside us, lurking in some dark comer of our animal
instinct, it makes our pulse quicken. Unknown to ourselves, a fascist lurks
within us. And it is in the name of this potential fascist that we come to
justify all the others. No extremists. of course! Did so many really die?
Seriously, in the name of a misunderstood sense of justice people worthy of
great respect put Faurisson's nonsense into circulation. No, it is better not
to venture along this road.
When
knowledge is scarce and the few notions we have seem to dance about in a stormy
sea, it is easy to fall prey to the stories invented by those who are cleverer
with words than we are. In order to avoid such an eventuality the Marxists,
goodly programmers of others' minds that they are (particularly those of the
herded proletariat), maintained that fascism is equivalent to the truncheon. On
the opposite side even philosophers like Gentile suggested that the truncheon,
by acting on the will, is also an ethical means in that it constructs the
future symbiosis between State and individual in that superior unity wherein
the individual act becomes collective. Here we see how Marxists and fascists
originate from the same ideological stock, with all the ensuing practical
consequences, concentration camps included. But let us continue. No, fascism is
not just the truncheon, nor is it even just Pound, Celine, Mishima or Cioran.
It is not one of these elements, or any other taken individually, but is all of
them put together. Nor is it the rebellion of one isolated individual who
chooses his own personal struggle against all others, at times including the
State, and could even attract that human sympathy we feel towards all rebels,
even uncomfortable ones. No, that is not what fascism is.
For
power, crude fascism such as has existed at various times in history under
dictatorships, is no longer a practicable political project. New instruments
are appearing along with the new managerial forms of power So let us leave it
for the historians to chew away on as much as they like. Fascism is out of
fashion even as a political insult or accusation. When a word comes to be used
disparagingly by those in power, we cannot make use of it as well. And because
this word and related concept disgusts us, it would be well to put one and the
other away in the attic along with all the other horrors of history and forget
it.
Forget
the word and the concept, but not what is concealed under it. We must keep this
in mind in order to prepare ourselves to act. Hunting fascists might be a
pleasant sport today but it could represent an unconscious desire to avoid a
deeper analysis of reality, to avoid getting behind that dense scheme of power
which is getting more and more complicated and difficult to decipher
I
can understand anti fascism. I am an antifascist too, but my reasons are not
the same as those of the many! heard in the past and still hear today who
define themselves as such. For many, fascism had to be fought twenty years ago
when it was in power in Spain, Portugal, Greece, Chile, etc. when the new
democratic regimes took their places in these countries. The antifascism of so
many ferocious opponents extinguished itself. It was then that I realised the
anti-fascism of my old comrades in struggle was different to mine. For me
nothing had changed. What we did in Greece, Spain, the Portuguese colonies and
in other places could have continued even after the democratic State had taken
over and inherited the past successes of the old fascism. But everyone did not
agree. it is necessary to know how to listen to old comrades who tell of their
adventures and the tragedies they have known, of the many murdered by the
fascists, the violence and everything else. 'But', as Tolstoy again said, 'the
individual who plays a part in historical events never really understands the
significance of them. If he tries to understand them he becomes a sterile
component.' I understand less those who, not having
lived these experiences, and therefore don I' find
themselves prisoners of such emotions half a century later, borrow explanations
that no longer have any reason to exist, and which are often no more than a
simple smokescreen to hide behind.
‘I
am an antifascist!', they throw at you like a declaration of war, 'and you?'
In
such cases my almost spontaneous reply is-no, I am not an antifascist. I am not
an antifascist in the way that you are. I am not an antifascist because I went
to fight the fascists in their countries while you stayed in the warmth of
italian democracy which nevertheless put mafiosi like Scelba, Andreotti and
Cossiga in government. I am not an antifascist because l have continued to
fight against the democracy that replaced these soap opera versions of fascism.
It uses more up to date means of repression and so is if you like, more fascist
than the fascists before them. I am not an antifascist because I am still
trying to identify those who hold power today and do not let myself be blinded
by labels and symbols, while you continue to call yourself an antifascist in
order to have a justification for coming out into the streets to hide behind
your 'Down with fascism!' banners. Of course, if I had been older than eight at
the time of the 'resistance', perhaps I too would be overwhelmed by youthful
memories and ancient passions and would not be so lucid. But I don't think so.
Because, if one examines the facts carefully, even between the confused and
anonymous conglomeration of the anti-fascism of political formations, there
were those who did not conform, but went beyond it, continued, and carried on
well beyond the 'ceasefire'! Because the struggle, the life and death struggle,
is not only against the fascists of past and present, those in the blackshirts.
but is also and fundamentally against the power that oppresses us, with all the
elements of support that make it possible, even when it wears the permissive
and tolerant guise of democracy.
'Well
then, you might have said so right away" someone could reply--'you are an
antifascist too
'And
how else could it be' You are an anarchist so you are an antifascist! Don't
tire us by splitting hairs
But
I think it is useful to draw distinctions I have never liked fascists, nor
consequently fascism as a project. For other reasons (but which when carefully
examined turn out to be the same), I have never liked the democratic, the liberal,
the republican, the Gaullist, the labour, the Marxist, the communist, the
socialist or any other of those projects. Against them I have always opposed
not so much my being anarchist as my being different, therefore anarchist.
First o fall my individuality, my own personal way of understanding life and
nobody else's, of understanding it and therefore of living it, of feeling
emotions, searching, discovering, experimenting, and loving. I only allow entry
into this world of mine to the ideas and people who appeal to me; the rest I
hold far oft, politely or otherwise.
I
don't defend, I attack. I am not a pacifist, and don't wait until things go
beyond the safety level. I try to take the initiative against all those who
might even potentially constitute a danger
to my way of living life. And part of this way is also the need and desire for
others-not as metaphysical entities, but clearly identified others, those who
have an affinity with my way of living and being. And this affinity is not
something static and determined once and for all. It is a dynamic fact which
changes and continues to grow and widen. revealing yet other people and ideas,
and weaving a web of immense and varied relations, but where the constant
always remains my way of being and living, with all its
variations and evolution.
I
have traversed the realm of man in every sense and have not yet found where I
might quench my thirst for knowledge, diversity, passion, dreams, a lover in
love with love. Everywhere I have seen enormous potential let itself be crushed
by ineptitude, and meagre capacity blossom in the sun of constancy and
commitment. But as long as the opening towards what is different flourishes,
the receptiveness to let oneself be penetrated and to penetrate to the point
that there is not a fear of the other, but rather an awareness of one's
limitations and capabilities and so also of the limits and capabilities of the
other-affinity is possible; it is possible to dream of a common, perpetual
undertaking beyond the contingent, human approach. The further we move away
from all this, affinities begin to weaken and finally disappear And so we find
those outside, those who wear their feelings like medals, who flex their
muscles and do everything in their power to appear fascinating. And beyond
that, the mark of power, its places and its men, the forced vitality, the false
idolatry, the fire without heat, the monologue, the chit chat, the uproar, the
usable, everything that can be weighed and measured.
That
is what I want to avoid. That is my antifascism.
NON-NEWS
ABOUT DRUGS
There
are at least two ways to make music. The negative one and the positive one. We
can screech as long as we like on the strings of a violin and still not
succeed in making what comes out music. But a whole portfolio of scores of the
great composers still does not make a musician. It follows that one should not
pay attention to how things are said as much as to what is being
said.
There
is as much violin mg about drugs today as there is about everything else. Each
plays their own way, with their own purposes. There are those who talk with an
air of personal authority, although when it comes down to it, all they know is
hearsay. This science reaches them through others' experience, it is an outside
affair They have observed matters that are not their own, gathering
'eye-witness accounts' that are mere signals, not reality. It matters little
then in my opinion whether one adopts a permissive attitude or makes
apocalyptic forecasts.
Then
there are the usual scoundrels who call for politically opportunistic projects
great or small, but here again the difference is irrelevant.
And
there are those who are disarmingly in good faith, those 'in good faith' by
profession, who almost make a shield of their state of grace to hide behind,
timidly insisting that 'something must be done' (which usually results in no
more than a worthy refurbishment of some of the more antiquated forms of social
services).
Not
forgetting the anti-mafia violinists who combine their prolific activity with
the drugs problem- the two are clearly interdependent -and it becomes a point
of honour to repeat the paradoxical rubbish that is said about the 'mafia' when
talking about 'drugs' word for word.
And
finally there are the more advanced 'revolutionaries' who can be divided into
roughly two positions, each one comical, but for different reasons. The first
is permissive, but only up to a point. They are for the use of 'light', not
'heavy' 'drugs'. They are broad-minded to the point of becoming consumers
themselves at times. With revolutionary asceticism of course, using small
amounts of 'light drugs', taking care to have only a little close at hand so as
not to have problems with the law, as that would be out of keeping for a
revolutionary. The second position is the absolute condemnation of all drugs,
light' or 'heavy', it makes no difference; they all 'dull your faculties'.
These 'revolutionary' positions are clearly lacking in something. The
difference between 'light' and 'heavy' drugs has always seemed spurious to me,
partly because the difference is defined by the legal laboratories of the
system. And it seems to me to be too hasty to establish once and for all that
drug addicts are idiots with no backbone, incapable of self-managing their
lives and so are like lumps of wood at the mercy of the whirling river of power
relations.
The
stupid and superficial, the weak and uncertain, those desirous of uniformity at
any price, will rally under any flag, including the revolutionary one. Next to
me under the same flag I have heard them gasp in situations that were too
strong for their humanitarian palates or whatever lies under their lion's
disguise. I have even seen them hide their weaknesses behind attitudes worthy
of mountain-crushing judges. We nearly all need some kind of prop, I'm not
saying that I do not include myself in this.If nothing else, i take a sleeping
pill when I can't sleep, I eat too much when I am nervous, or other such
things. But we are not talking about our weaknesses but of our attitudes
towards what we consider to be the weaknesses of others.
That is
why, if I consider my position carefully I find the 'drugs problem' to be 'non-
news'. I do not feel like subscribing to any of the positions cited above. Nor
to the positions of superiority from which some regard 'drug addicts' (but it's
more 'hip' to call them junkies'). I see things differently.
Once again
we must start from something obvious: freedom. Of course someone could reply
that the young person with very little perspective on choices for gaining
knowledge or points of reference, does not have the possibility to start from
freedom. So what should I do? It would
be like saying that I am sorry that the exploited have little chance of
rebelling because the power structure has been clever enough to sew everything
up. In actual fact I am not sorry' about such a thing. They have asked for it,
with their miserable and petty suggestions of how to force the State to satisfy
their needs. And so needs go on being satisfied or postponed, allowing a
reorganisation of control and a restructuring of the economy. To such a point
that, if not today, then sometime in the near future, the space for rebellion
will be reduced to the point of becoming almost nonexistent.
If the
individual wants to establish a relationship with drugs he is free to do so,
but don't tell me that only one kind of relationship is possible. For a long
time now I have considered the situations in which one lived during the Fifties
to be different. At the time we were seekers of fire'. Today we can look for a
long time, but all we find are zombies crying for a 'fix'. But I'm not taken in
by this kind of whining, which is the same as what can be heard outside any
proletarian's door or any hovel of the most repellent and shameful poverty,
without anyone lifting a finger when they walk past the armoured windows of a
bank where the safe is open and waiting to be emptied. Of course a 'social'
problem of poverty and exploitation exists. But there is also a social problem
of submission, respectability, piety, acceptance, sacrifice. If the exploited
really is a rebel he will certainly not begin by resolving the social problem
of 'all' the exploited, but will at least try to solve his own without dwelling
on the wickedness of capitalism. In the case of h is not being physically
capable, he must still evaluate what to do with his life himself before reaching
the abjection of simply denouncing his poverty. In saying this I am not saying
that I am against the exploited or the poor things who take
drugs and stagger about prey to their own ghosts. I feel sorry for them, yes.
After all I am a human being too. But I am not prepared to do anything for
them. What should 1 do? Address them to the same old struggle for housing,
water, lighting or a pension, just so they can move on to new levels of poverty
and discouragement? And what should one do with those larvae in a trance? Give
them methadone? Or build them a libertarian and humanitarian hospice? Don't
even mention it to me.
I
know for certain that the exploited proletarian can rebel, and that if he
doesn't he is also responsible, at least as much as those that exploit him. I
know for certain that drug addicts can rebel, and that if they don't they are
also responsible, just as much as those who get rich on their misery. It is not
true that privation, work, poverty, drugs, take away one's will power. On the
contrary, they can make it greater. It is not true, as many people without any
experience of their own maintain, that heroin (to dwell on the heavy' stuff for
a moment) takes away one's will power or makes us incapable of acting with a
determined project and an awareness of class reality, i.e. of the functioning
of the mechanisms that produce, among other things, the drugs market. Anyone
who says otherwise either lacks competence or is a mystifier.There is always an
awareness of self and self-projectuality in the drug addict, even in those
supposedly in the final stages (but what are the final stages?). If the
individual is weak, a poor stick with a character already marked by a life of
privation or ease (at this point it does not make much difference), he reacts weakly,
but he would have done the same thing in any other situation in which he
happened to find himself. One could reply that drugs as a prop tend to be
sought more by weak subjects. I must admit that this is true. But that does not
alter the reasoning ('non-news') that I made at the outset, that of pointing
out the responsibility of the weak concerning their own weakness.
I
consider the time has come to say things without mincing words.
NON-NEWS
ABOUT RACISM
Racism
can be defined in many ways, most of which tend to justify an attitude of
defence and attack against other persons who, it is thought, might damage our
interests in the immediate or near future. At the root of racism, under its
disguise of myths linked to various fantasies and irrationalities, there is
always a precise economic cause, in defence of which the fears and fantasies we
all have concerning the different are addressed or
opportunely solicited.
I
read a number of articles recently concerning the growth of racism in Italy, in
which incredible falsehoods are stated. It seems to me therefore that it would
be useful to begin these uncomfortable pieces of non-news' with a few precise
remarks, bearing in mind the context in which I am writing [Bergamo prison] and
the consequent impossibility of obtaining precise historical documentation.
Racism
has existed throughout the history of mankind and has always been linked to a
fear of the different, which has been depicted in the most incredible and
fantastical ways. Without going back too far, we can see that for centuries the
Catholic church was an instrument both of violent racism and destruction, well
before the racist theories of the last two hundred years. It developed the
racial theory of blood for the first time, applying it against the Spanish Jews
and their desperate attempts to convert to Catholicism in order to survive.
In
the struggle against the Church and its doctrines last century, scientific
theory incongruously introduced a theoretical stream from Chamberlain to
Gobineau which took up the blood theory again and used it as a weapon against
the Jews. It was placed within a kind of deterministic evolutionism which the
modem orthodox racist theory founded by the Nazis based itself upon.
But.
from the ‘reconquest’ of Spain to our time, these theories would have remained
in the locker of the historical horrors of human thought, had they not
occasionally found an economic base on which to exercise themselves
common
interests to protect, and fears of possible expropriation to be
exorcised. The Catholic crusade against the Jews was a consequence of the fear
that it would not be possible to control the
extremely wealthy Spanish provinces left by the Arabs unless they
proceeded to their immediate persecution. Their ghettoisation and consequent control
was due to the fact that. having been left almost completely free by the Arabs,
they had the levers of the Spanish economy in hand.
The
vicissitudes of the repression and genocide of the Jews by the Nazis are well
known, along with the economic justifications where concrete events were mixed
with mythical elements. It is in fact true that with the inflation of the
mark-decided mainly under the influence of jewish managerial groups the German
government had damaged the small savers and salaried workers following their
defeat in the first world war. But there was no justification in the subsequent
deduction that this was because the Jews acted as a 'foreign nation' en bloc,
which led to their being condemned to extermination. In this way a significant number
of industrialists met their deaths, and along with them, millions of poor souls
whose only fault was that they were Jewish.
In
the same way the problem of the Jamaicans in Great Britain is based on the fact
that they have now become a burden to the State. Brought over in tens of
thousands immediately after the second world war to bear the brunt of
rebuilding the country, the British State would now like them to go back from
whence they came without taking into account the fact that most of
the youth, those who make tip the most restless element, were born in Britain
and have no intention of going off to a place that is quite unknown to them,
and from which they never came.
Israeli
racism against the Palestinians has the same economic basis. Zionist interests
can no longer tolerate a reduction in territory, or even a cohabitation which
might turn out to be destructive in the long run, possibly resulting in a
Palestinian State that is capable of becoming the economic cutting edge of a
potentially wealthy Arab world. We should not forget that the Arab
intelligentsia is nearly all Palestinian and this scares the Israel is,
providing them with a far more powerful motivation to fight than the mythical
symbol of the great Israel that was to extend between the two historic rivers.
Arab
racism, manifested in its continual declarations of ‘holy war’, although never
all that solid, also has an economic foundation and is aimed at preventing
political isolation and exploitation by other nations during the favourable and
limited period of petroleum extraction.
Italian
racism has also known significant periods which have not limited themselves to
theory. Nothing compared to the 'Teutonic order' of course, but it reached a
considerable level all the same. During its years of publication, the Italian
review Difesa della razza, (Defence of Race) edited by Almirante,
included many names from the official anti-fascist democratic culture at the
time. But never mind. This is trivia compared to the massacres perpetrated by
the Italian army in Libya. Ethiopia and Yugoslavia. Each according to their own
capabilities.
Now
the 'black man' is making his appearance in the sacred territory of our
[Italian] homeland and is starting to become 'visible'. So long as it was a
question of a few dozen 'blacks', things could be tolerated. In fact, it
excited the superficial democratic sentiments of some, prompting heroic
declarations of anti-racism. The same went for the occasional 'gypsy' camp and
the communities of Chinese, Philippinos, Slavs, Poles, and so on. One
continually hears, 'Very well, these people, even if their skin is a different
colour, eat different food move differently, speak another
language are just like us. But only as long as they stay in their place.'
There, that sums
up our
anti-racism: the black man, who embodies the most extreme characteristics of
racial difference, is just like us, a man, not a beast. But he must understand
the ‘good’ we are doing him by giving him the chance to eat the crumbs that
fall from our tables laden with every imaginable consumer product. He must
learn to work long and unflaggingly and put up with the hardest of labour, be
nice and polite, pretend not to understand, get accustomed to putting up with
exploitation in the black economy (not because he himself is black), doing
temporary work in very small enterprises, pay extortionate prices for a single
bed in a rat-infested room, learn our language-given that we are all so
ignorant that we do not know how to speak any language other than this useless,
peripheral Italian one-and soon.
But the ten commandments of anti-racism were valid before the great,
more or less rationally planned influx became as consistent as it is now,
without any prospect of reduction or regulation. Now it is not just a question
of economic damage, but of a real fear of the black man. Although it might
sound strange, I have an idea that the real danger at the moment is not some
group of Nazi-skins, but conies from a far more profound, deep-rooted feeling
that is be-
mg experienced
irrationally by vast social strata. It is not simply a question of shopkeepers
seeing their trade damaged by illegal street sellers, but is also the
middle-class white collar workers (among whom you find practically the whole
police structure of every order and grade, including the professional military
one) and even some salaried but insecure parts of the old factory proletariat
who have been leading a trade union battle over the past few years to safeguard
the few jobs that are left.
The
fact that fascist action squads have been recruited in Florence is
just a sign, a dangerous one, certainly, but still a sign.
More serious still is the consistently racist behaviour of those who possibly
consider themselves to be anti-racist. It is this behaviour that is capable of
transforming itself within seconds into real conscious racism at some time in
the future, and precipitating a catastrophe. The danger comes from the mil
lions of racists who believe themselves to be democratic and anti-racist. This
is the non-news' that we are proposing to comrades to reflect upon. I am from
the South, so I am different, and have felt, not only at skin level, how this
'diversity' of mine came to be noticed by, and almost disturbed, those used to
living in 'northern' circles therefore feel superior and even upholders of a
'language' they consider superior
I
perceived this latent hostility at the end of the Fifties, in the
Mittel-European cultural circle in Turin, where my stubbornness in continuing
to underline my Sicilian accent was considered inaptitude and provincialism. I
have participated in conferences and outdoor meetings both in and beyond the
anarchist movement, more or less all over Italy, and most of the difficulties I
encountered were in Florence and the rest of Tuscany. I am not saying that the
Tuscans are worse than others. I have Tuscan friends and comrades who
are among the best people in the world, but there is in them, in all of them,
the
conviction
that they speak Italian', that they are the recipients of the mother tongue
without having had to face the obstacle of getting rid of their dialect. This
mistaken starting point, which makes them not only speak badly but write even
worse (always with the obvious exceptions), is an element of latent racism.
Knowledge is acquired by study, not from the natural gift of being born in a
given place. This is a dangerous concept. Italian is an artificial language
that is composed of many elements which, like all other languages. are still in
the course of transformation. This goes for dialects too of course, but the
lesser capacity of dialects and languages reduced to such a range, to 'build'
their own literature and make it known, encloses them within a fairly
circumscribed territorial space.
I
have always refused to 'refine' my accent in a 'correct way, precisely so as
not to be colonised like most of those who breathe the so-called 'air of the
continent'. After a period in Milan they sound like pure-blooded Milanese when
they return to their native Canicatti. Defence of one's identity, along with
an-intellectual and practical-consistency, always gives rise to a reaction of
annoyance and fear.
This
happens with the homosexual, whom our democratic antifascist culture considers
'different' and tolerates so long as he is recognisable, i.e. assumes the
attitude of a would-be woman' that allows us to identify him and keep him at a
distance, naturally with great tolerance. But the homosexual who to all
appearances is a man like us' puts us in difficulty, scares us, is the one we
fear most. Basically, we have all built a well-ordered world with our
certainties and reassurances, and we cannot accept someone 'different' turning
up and upsetting everything in just a few seconds. In the same way there is
latent, therefore unconscious, racism in any attempt at defence that
demonstrates the importance and validity of one ethnic
reality
without linking it to another and pointing out their intrinsic diversity as
well as the profound community of interests that exists between them. When I
took up the subject of the national liberation struggle many years ago, there
were two reactions, both wrong in my opinion. On the one hand, there were those
who said right away that such a thematic was right-wing, with goodbye to all
the work of Bakunin and comrades and almost the whole of the international
anarchist movement. On the other, there were those who took it up, turning it
into a local affair aimed at going into its social characteristics, ethical or
otherwise, without linking it to the international context as a whole.
Another
undercurrent of racism, which runs through the whole of present-day
anti-racism, is that of the political verbalism in favour of this or that
struggle for the liberation of the South African blacks, the Palestinians, the
British blacks, the Kanaks and so on. International solidarity in words alone
is a form of latent racism, in fact it is even subscribed to by illuminated
governments and respectable groups who spread the good word throughout the
world. But when it comes to examining what could be done to support that
solidarity concretely, what could be done to damage the economic interests of
those responsible for the repression, then things change, and a respectable
distance is taken from them immediately. It is another aspect of the
anti-racism that tolerates the black man so long as he stays in his place, a
different way of keeping a distance, of putting one's conscience at rest and
have racism carry on at a safe distance from one's own doorstep.
So,
here in this country, we have reached the point of believing it possible for
police and carabinieri to become the paladins and defenders of the blacks, in
other words the supporters of the anti-racist politics of the Italian
government. But is such a thing possible? Anyone who has seen these murderers
in uniform at work even once can have no illusions on the subject. These armed
corps, for the most part composed of people from southern Italy, once their
'bread and butter' is safe, become the most ferocious jailers of other people from
the south, those who dream of the possible clash that could bring about changes
capable of putting the old ideals of their fathers-a piece of bread-in question
once again. And if that is what they thought and continue to think as far as
the South is concerned, imagine what their attitude wi II be concerning blacks,
Philippinos, gypsies, Poles and so on Anything hut democratic tolerance. The
other day, in their haste to beat up their victims (quickly and well do not go
together), they did not realise that they were also beating up one of their
(parliamentary) colleagues who unfortunately has a black face. Here the racism
is anything but latent, but let us put it all in the same category of possible,
not certain, danger.
But
even workers can be convinced of a black' danger from the immigrants who have
arrived to take what little work is left from them. Massive shifts in this
direction find the trades unions and political representatives, who have always
worked out their strategy on the element of economic and normative safeguard
alone, disarmed. Any humanitarian discourse would rebound on them. In a short
time they would be obliged to become the defenders of an institutionally
separate working strata, underpaid and guaranteed in a different way, with
lower wages and fewer protective measures, in short a kind of apartheid. Such a
logic is applied in the United States regularly without half terms, and
differentiated conditions have only begun to be reduced in recent years
parallel to an unprecedented growth in the rage, not only of the blacks, but
mainly of other immigrants such as Puerto Ricans, Cubans, Mexicans and so on.
At
the root of this problem, which can supposedly be resolved by power, there is
one great obstacle: real, concrete anti-racism, should start from real equality
between everyone, men and women, of any race whatsoever, wherever they come
from, whatever their culture and religion. But no State could ever bring about,
or even consider, concrete equality, so all States are destined to become hotbeds
of racial conflicts that no verbal respectability will succeed in camouflaging
very well. Explosions of violence, in the one and the other sense, will always
be possible unless the social and economic conditions that produce class
stratification and differences are eliminated. Racism is an economic problem,
and like all economic problems it can only be resolved with a revolutionary
break.
One
concludes that it is indispensable for revolutionaries to
differentiate themselves from all those-and they are numerous-who say they are
anti-racist, starting from democratic governments of half the world to the
so-called governments of the ex-real socialist States, where racism has also
always existed,just as inequality has. It is necessary' to differentiate
oneself in practical terms from the scoundrels who say they are anti-racist, by
attacking with precise actions all the symbols of racism and its supporters as
they develop and emerge. At the same time it is necessary to work out a
critique of the fears and irrational impulses that lurk inside us all
concerning everything that is different, in order to reduce the subsoil where
the most stupid, visible, racism finds its inexhaustible fuel.
LOSS OF
LANGUAGE
One
of the projects that capital is putting into effect is the reduction of
language. By language we mean all forms of expression, particularly those that
allow us to articulate complex concepts about feelings and things.
Power
needs this reduction because it is replacing straightforward repression with
control, where consensus plays a fundamental part. And uniform consensus is
impossible in the presence of multi-form creativity.
The
old revolutionary problem of propaganda has also changed considerably in recent
years, showing up the limitations of a realism that claimed to show the
distortions of the world to the exploited clearly, putting them in the
condition to become aware of their situation.
Still
in the historical sphere of anarchism, we have the quite exceptional example of
Malatesta's literary capacity based on a language that was essentialised to the
maximum degree, constituting a model unique for its time. Malatesta did not use
rhetoric or shock effects. He used elementary deductive logic, starting off
from simple points based on common sense and ending up with complex conclusions
that were easily understood by the reader.
Galleani
worked at quite a different linguistic level. He used vast rhetorical
constructions, attaching a great deal of importance to the
musicality of the phrase and to the use of outdated words chosen to create an
atmosphere that in his opinion would move spirits to action.
Neither
of the above examples can be proposed as models of a revolutionary language fit
for the present time. Not Malatesta, because there is less to demonstrate today,
nor Galleani, because there are fewer and fewer spirits to be moved'.
Perhaps
a wider range of revolutionary literature can be found in France due to that
country's great tradition that has no equal in Italy, Spain or Britain, and due
to the particular French spirit of language and culture. At about the same time
as the Italian examples mentioned above, we have Faure, Grave
and Armand for clarity and exposition, while for research and in some aspects
rhetoric, there are Libertad and Zo d'Axa.
We
should not forget that France already had the example of Proudhon whose style
even surprised the Academy, then Faure who was considered to be a continuation
of this great school along with the methodical, asphyxiating Grave.
Self-taught, he was an enthusiastic pupil of Kropotkin. The latter's French was
good and basic precisely because, like Bakunin's, it was the French of a
Russian.
One
could go on forever, from the linguistic, literary' and journalistic
experiments of Libertad, Zo d'Axa and others, as well as their predecessor
Coeurderoy. But although they represent some of the best examples of
revolutionary journalism, none of these models is valid today.
The
fact is that reality has changed, while revolutionaries continue to produce
language in the same way, or rather worse. To see this it would suffice to
compare a leaflet such as the Endehors by Zo dtAxa
with its huge Daurnier drawing on one side and his writing on the other, to
some of the lapidary leaflets we produce today-looking at our own
situation-such as the one we did for the meeting with the comrades from Eastern
Europe in Trieste.
But
the problem has gone beyond that. Not only are our privileged interlocutors
losing their language, we are losing ours too. And because we must necessarily
meet on common ground if we want to communicate, the loss is turning out to be
irreversible.
This
process of diffused flattening is striking all languages, lowering the
heterogeneity of expression to the uniformity of the means. The mechanism is
more or less the following, and could be compared to television. The increase
in quantity(of new items)reduces the time available for the transmission of
each one of them. This is leading to a progressive, spontaneous selection of
image and word. so on the one hand these elements are being essentialised,
while on the other the amount of transmittable data is increasing.
The
much desired clarity bemoaned by so many generations of revolutionaries
desirous to explain reality to the people, has finally been reached in the only
way possible: by not making reality clear (something that is impossible in any
case), but making clarity real, i.e. showing the reality that has been built by
technology.
This
is happening to all linguistic expression including desperate attempts to save
human activity through art, which is also letting past fewer and fewer
possibilities. Moreover, this endeavour is finding itself having to struggle on
two fronts: first, against being swallowed up by the flattening that is turning
creativity into uniformity, and second, against the opposite problem, but which
has the same roots, that of the market and its prices.
My
old theses on poor art and art as destruction are still close to my heart.
Let
us give an example: all language, in that it is an instrument, can be used in
many ways. It can be used to transmit a code aimed at maintaining or perfecting
consensus, or it can be used to stimulate transgression. Music is no exception
here, although because of its particular characteristics the road to
transgression is even more difficult. Although it Seems more direct, it is
actually further from it. Rock is a music of recuperation and contributed to
extinguishing much of the revolutionary energy of the Seventies. According to
Nietzsche's intuition, the same thing happened with the innovation of Wagnerian
music in his time. Think of the great thematic and cultural differences that
exist between these two kinds of musical production. Wagner had to build a vast
cultural edifice and completely discompose the linguistic instrument in order
to captivate the revolutionary youth of his time. Today rock has done the same thing on a much wider scale with a
cultural effort that is ridiculous in comparison. The massification of music
has favoured the work of recuperation.
So
we could say revolutionary action operates in two ways, first according to the
instrument, which is undergoing a process of simplification and stripping down,
then in the sense of its use, which has become standardised, producing effects
that cannot always be reduced to a common denominator that is acceptable to all
or nearly all. That happens in so-called literature (poetry, narrative,
theatre, etc.) as well as in that restricted microcosm, the revolutionary
activity of examining social problems. Whether this takes the form of articles
in anarchist papers, or leaflets, pamphlets, books, etc., the risks are fairly
similar. The revolutionary is a product of his time and uses the instruments
and occasions it produces.
The
chances of reading about the actual conditions of society and production have
been reduced, because there is far less to be brought to the surface, and
because interpretative instruments have
undergone a
recession. In a society that was polarised in two clearly' opposing classes the
task of counter-information was to bring the reality of the exploitation that
the power structure had every interest in hiding, out into the open. The latter
included the mechanisms for extracting surplus value, repressive stratagems,
authoritarian regressions of the State and soon. Now, in a society that is
moving further and further towards a democratic form of management and
production based on information technology, capital is becoming more and more
comprehensible. This is precisely because it is more important for it to be
seen, and less important for it to discover new methods of exploitation.
Today
we need to interpret society with cultural instruments that are not merely
capable of interpreting facts that are unknown or treated superficially. We
also need to identify an unconscious conflictuality that is far from the old
extremely visible class conflict, to avoid being drawn into a simplistic
refusal that is incapable of evaluating the mechanisms of recuperation,
consensus and globalisation. More than documentation we need active
participation, including writing, in what must be a comprehensive project. We
cannot limit ourselves to denouncing exploitation but must bring our analyses
to within a precise project which will become comprehensible during the course
of the analysis itself Documentation and denunciation are no longer enough. We
need something more, so long as we still have tongues to speak with, so long as
we have not had them all cut off.
It
is this new interaction between ways of expressing oneself and one's project
that is the strength of this way of using linguistic instruments, but also
leads to the discovery of its limitations.
If language has been allowed to become impoverished, adapting to the
tendency to its reduction that has been studied and applied by power then this
is inevitable.
I
have always fought against a kind of detached objectivity in writing that looks
at revolutionary questions. Precisely because it is an instrument, linguistic
expression always has a social dimension that is summed up in its style. It is
not just 'the man' as Buffon says, but is 'man in a given society'. And it is
the style that solves the problem, certainly a difficult one, of supplying the
so-called deeds of the event along with the indispensable content, their
insertion within a project. If this project is alive and up to the conditions
of the conflict, the style could be livened up, whereas if the latter is not
suitable or is lost in the illusion of objectivity, even the best project will
run the risk of losing itself in a ghostlike forest of impressions.
Our
language must therefore take a form that is capable of supporting our
revolutionary content and have a provocatory thrust that is capable of
violating and upsetting normal ways of communicating. It must be able to represent
the reality we feel in our hearts without letting ourselves get wrapped up in a
shroud of logic and only understood with great difficulty. The project and the
language used to illustrate it must meet and recognise each other in the style
used. Without wanting to take things to the logical extreme of this well-worn
thesis, we know today that the instrument constitutes a considerable part of
the message.
We
need to look out for these processes, not let a new pragmatic ideology submerge
us in throwaway phrases where there is no relationship between the project and
the way of saying it.
So,
advancing linguistic impoverishment is also reflected in the instruments of
communication that we use as revolutionaries. First of all because we are men
and women of our time, participants in the reductive cultural processes that
characterise it. We are losing instruments like everyone else. This is normal.
But we need to make more of an effort to get better results and acquire the
capacity to resist these reductive projects.
This
reduction in stylistic ability is a consequence of the lowering of content. It
is also capable of producing further impoverishment, leading to the inability
to express the essential part of the project that necessarily remains tied to
the means of expression. It is therefore not the genre' that saves the content,
but above all the way this content takes form. Some people make out a schema
and never manage to free themselves from it. They filter everything they come
to know through this schema, believing it to be 'their way of expressing
themselves', like having a limp or brown eyes. But it is not like that. One
must free oneself from this prison sooner or later, if one wants to make what
one is communicating come alive.
There
are those who choose irony to transmit the urgency they feel, for example. Very
well, but irony has its own peculiarities, i.e. it is pleasant, light, a dance,
a joke, an allusive metaphor. It cannot become a system without turning out to
be repetitive or pathetic like the satirical inserts in the daily papers, or
comic strips where we know beforehand how the story is going to end otherwise
we wouldn't be able to understand it, like barrack-room jokes. In the same way,
for opposite reasons, the call of reality the attempt to make reality visible
and palpable through communication, starting from the supposition that there
can be no immediate fruition from anything that does not seem real-ends up
becoming tedious, is unrealisable. We get lost in the constant need to insist,
losing the conceptuality that is at the basis of true communication.
One
of the hackneyed phrases in the museum of everyday stupidity is that we do not
know how to say something, whereas the problem really is that we do not know what to say.
This is not necessarily so. The communication flux is not uni-dimensional, but
multi-dimensional: we do not only communicate, we also receive communications.
And we have the same problem in communicating with
others as
we have in receiving from others. There is also a problem of style in
reception. Identical difficulties, identical illusions. Again, limiting
ourselves to written language, we find that when we read newspaper articles we
can reconstruct the way the writer of the article receives communications from
the outside. The style is the same, we can see it in the same articles, the
same mistakes, the same shortcuts. And that is because these incidents and
limits are not just questions of style but are essential Components of the
writer's project, of his very life.
We can see that the less the revolutionary’s
capacity to grasp the meaning of incoming communication, even when it reaches
us
directly
from events, the poorer and more repetitive the interpretation of the latter
The result is, in word and unfortunately also in deed, approximation,
uncertainty, a low level of ideas that does justice neither to the complexities
of the enemy's capacity; or to our own revolutionary intentions.
If
things were otherwise, socialist realism, with its good working class always
ready to mobilise itself, would have been the only possible solution. The
latest aberration dictated by such ignorance and refusal to consider reality
differently was the intervention of the good Rumanian miners to re-establish
llliescu's new order
Power's
attempts to generalise the flattening of linguistic expression is one of the
essential components of the insurmountable wall that is being built between the
included and the excluded. If we have identified
direct, immediate attack as one instrument in the struggle, parallel to it we
must also develop an optimal use of the other instrument at our disposal and
take, whatever the cost, what we do not possess. The two are inseparable.
ILLNESS AND
CAPITAL
Illness,
i.e.a faulty functioning of the organism, is not peculiar to man. Animals also
get ill, and even things can in their own way present defects in functioning.
The idea of illness as abnormality is the classic one that was developed by
medical science.
The
response to illness, mainly thanks to the positivist ideology which still
dominates medicine today, is that of the cure, that is to say, an external
intervention chosen from specific practices, aimed at restoring the conditions
of a given idea of norrnality.
Yet
it would be a mistake to think that the search for the causes of illness has
always run parallel to this scientific need to restore normality. For centuries
remedies did not go hand in hand with the study of causes, which at times were
absolutely fantastical. Remedies had their own logic, especially when based on
empirical knowledge of the forces of nature.
In
more recent times a critique of the sectarianism of science, including
medicine, has based itself on the idea of man's totality: an entity made up of
various natural elements, intellectual, economic, social, cultural, political
and so on. It is in this new perspective that the materialist and dialectical
hypothesis of Marxism inserted itself. The variously described totality of the
new, real man no longer divided up into the sectors that the old positivism had
got us used to, was again encapsulated in a one-way determinism by the
Marxists. The cause of illness was thus considered m be due
capitalism
which, by alienating man through work, exposed him to a distorted relationship
with nature and normality', the other side of illness.
In
our opinion neither the positivist thesis that sees illness as being due to a
faulty functioning of the organism, nor the Marxist one that sees everything as
being due to the misdeeds of capitalism is sufficient.
Things
are a little more complicated than that.
Basically,
we cannot say that there would no longer be such a thing as illness in a
liberated society. Nor can we say that in that happy event illness would reduce
itself to a simple weakening of some hypothetical force that is still to be
discovered. We think that illness is part of the nature of man's state of
living in society. i.e. corresponds to a certain price to be paid for
correcting a little of nature's optimal conditions in order to obtain the artificiality
necessary to build even the freest of societies.
Certainly,
the exponential growth of illness in a free society where artificiality between
individuals would be reduced to the strictly indispensable, would not be
comparable to that in a society based on exploitation, such as the one in which
we are living now. It follows from this that the struggle against illness is an
integral part of the class conflict. Not so much because illness is caused by
capital-which would be a determinist, therefore unacceptable, statement-but
because a freer society would be different. Even in its negativity it would be
closer to life, to being human. So illness would be an expression of our
humanity just as it is the expression of our terrifying inhumanity today. This
is why we have never agreed with the somewhat simplistic thesis that could be
summed up in the phrase "make illness a weapon", even though it is
one that deserves respect. especially as far as mental illness is concerned. It
is not really possible to propose to the patient a cure that is based
exclusively on the struggle against the class enemy. Here the simplification
would be absurd. Illness also means suffering, pain, confusion, uncertainty,
doubt, solitude, and these negative elements do not limit themselves to the
body, but also attack consciousness and the will. To draw up programmes of
struggle on such a basis would be quite unreal and terrifyingly inhuman.
But
illness can become a weapon if one understands it both in its
causes and effects. it can be important for me to understand what the external
causes of my illness are: capitalists and exploiters, State and capital. But
that is not enough. I also need to clarify my relationship with MY ILLNESS,
which might not only be suffering, pain and death. It might also be a means by
which to understand myself and others better, as well as the reality that
surrounds me and what needs to be done to transform it, and also get a better
grasp of revolutionary outlets.
The
mistakes that have been made in the past on this subject come from lack of
clarity due to the Marxist interpretation. That was based on the claim to
establish a DIRECT relationship between illness and capital. We think today
that this relationship should be INDIRECT, i.e. by becoming aware of illness,
not of illness in general as a condition of ABNORMALITY, but of my illness as a
component of my life, an element of MY NORMALITY.
And
then, the struggle against this illness. Even if not all struggles end in
victory.
ONE'S LIFE
ON THE LINE
Since
the beginning of time man has had a taste for risk and adventure and distorted
forms of play such as duels and hunting. Games that put the player's life on
the line also date back to ancient times. But to avoid going too far back in
history, it is enough to think of Russian roulette, which everyone remembers
from the pages of a great Russian novel, or from scenes in a fairly recent
American film. In the Fifties a film about violence in rural America depicted a
game called the 'rabbit jump', a race between youths, each at the wheel of a
car heading towards a cliff edge. The one who jumped out last was the winner In
recent months there have been reports in the news of a motorway roulette',
which consists of driving along a stretch of motorway the wrong way; whoever
gets furthest wins. Another game in fashion with Israeli boys, some under ten,
consists of placing a school bag in the middle of the road and snatching it
back when a car approaches. The one who retrieves his last wins. According to
news reports a number of children have died playing this game.
So
why put one's life on the line?
The
answer might simply be that it is due to the 'crisis in values 'of an
advanced post-industrial society which has no future to offer young people.
Another recent American film showing gang warfare in Los Angeles ended up with
a youth who, rather than let himself be arrested, shot a policeman shouting
There's no future!' And that might be a good answer The everyday experiences
that form the personality have been seriously affected by the profound changes
that have taken place in the social and economic structures of advanced
industrialised countries over recent years. The thoughts, emotions and actions
of individuals are immersed in a situation that has no pre-existing categories
to put them in any kind of order and give them any sense of security.
This
is leading the younger strata, those not able to cope with such a situation or
who are not yet in possession of well-rooted interests and ideas, to feel
'value-deprived' and unable to 'give any meaning to life'.
Why
is this too simple an answer? First, because it does not seem right to me to
relegate everything to an underlying social mechanism that explains everything.
Behind this mental attitude lurks a kind of neo-determinism that prevents us
from grasping the real motivations at the root of things which, if brought out
into the open might give us a better indication of what to do.
The
social disintegration resulting from economic restructuring in the Eighties is
certainly one of the reasons for this chipping away at the values that emerged
in the post-war period and remained more or less intact until the end of the
Seventies. An institution such as the family, which is turning out to be less
and less solid or capable of resolving the important task assigned to it by the
bourgeois capitalist society of the last century, is being hit not only by the
changing conditions of the world of work and production, but also by the
circulation of different ideas, culture, concepts of time and space, and so on.
Each of these elements, which it would be simplistic to group together under
the term economy, has produced conditions that need 10 be examined
individually. They are of great importance and make up the connective tissue
onto which emotions are grafted the thoughts and actions of so many of the
young people who come face to face in today's football stadia and play with
their lives in a thousand ways finding themselves as they do with no future,
certainties or hope.
Here
we are not simply looking at the marginal phenomenon of the late integration of
young people into the conditions imposed by social life. This has always
existed, What we can see now is a phenomenon of a consistency and extension
unknown in the past. And if we want to understand it we must also look at our
own thinking patterns. We once thought, and rightly so, that working conditions
were central to comprehending the reasons as to why the proletariat engaged in
the class struggle, including the revolutionary perspective. But objective
conditions are changing. We used to think that the struggles of the working
class could at any moment transform themselves into revolutionary
consciousness, precisely due to the defects in the system of production as a
whole. We can no longer think in such an automatic way.
We
used to say that one thing that put a brake on the class struggle was the
educational integration of young people through the family, the foundation
stone of the uniformity of judgement that was completed at school, in the army
and at work. Many of these things have now changed. Various concepts have
entered the family since its disintegration set in, leading it to breathe an
air of paternalism, when not downright puerocracy. Information reaches
households directly through television, so the censuring filter of parents no
longer functions. The latter have also lost some of the authority that once
came from simple physical strength, as there are stricter controls by the State
concerning violence towards the underaged. The old affection, the stuff of
seventeenth century oil paintings upon which the family was supposed to be
based-for the most part a fantasy of writers and poets-is no longer able to
cover up the real lack of feeling that exists within this institution. And we anarchists
were among the first to put forward a serious critique of the family as the
origin of many of the horrors of the class society.
The
same goes for school, where, with far-sighted clarity, we saw its limitations
and defects in the nineteenth century', proposing a libertarian form of
education that has now been taken over by the intellectuals of the regime. I
don't known if we are capable of understanding what is really happening in
school today, but it does not seem to me to be a sector in which we are any
further behind than others. The level of anarchist analysis today does not seem
to be up to comprehending the rapid changes that are taking place in society
and the economy. This is demonstrated by what is being said about the problem
of production, and, with a constancy worthy of greater things, the insistence
on the validity of more or less revolutionary syndicalism.
In
our opinion, new problems are presenting themselves on the social scene that
cannot be faced by using old analyses, even though they might have been correct
at one time. In a way. we have not been able to take what we ourselves
formulated to its logical conclusion. The example of the family is significant.
We were among the first to denounce the repressive functions of this institution
but are nowhere near first, today, in drawing the relevant conclusions.
The
general loss of traditional values does not see us capable of proposing, I
would not say substitutes for, but even critiques of other people's proposals.
In the face of the many young people who are asking for a good reason not to
put their lives on the line, we do not know what to say. Others have given what
we know are not real answers, but the young take them to be such, extinguishing
their liberatory aggressiveness and reducing themselves to passive instruments
in the hands of power Others tell them life has a value in itself, because God
gave it to us, because it serves pleasure, the Revolution, the continuation of
the species, and so on. We know that, taken individually, these statements are
not right, but we do a
what to propose as a
valid alternative to the game of risk for its own sake.
COMMUNITY SICKNESS
Anarchist
practice has fallen sharply in recent years, with few actions either at mass
level or at the level of specific groups. As a result we see a revival of the
issue of how to get closer to 'communism' or to building situations that not Only express
our ideas and ethical and cultural values but are also capable of satisfying
our fundamental personal and collective need for freedom. In other words, there
is a proposal to create points of reference that go beyond the classical
division between the personal and the political.
This
corresponds to a growing need within the whole movement against capital today,
not just the anarchist one. As hopes of profound changes in the social
structure vanished with the spreading of desistance from the struggle, the
concern with not letting oneself be engulfed by increasing restructuring has
become greater; 'We must continue to struggle for our own essential needs,
because in any case it is not the time to talk of great
macroscopic changes.'
The
problem is that these impulses end up taking two roads which, if examined
closely, both lead to the same dead end in the same ghetto. The first, more
direct, road is that of desistance: nothing can be done, the enemy is too
powerful. We might as well just rely on spreading our ideas (which are superior
anyway) and not insist on attack, which only leads to repression, creating more
difficulties for the movement in its fundamental activity of propaganda and
spreading anarchist theory. The second, more tortuous, road is that of an
organisational proposal linked to the idea of community.
Many
comrades talk of ‘community’, although not always as something confined to one
geographical area or in order to satisfy (or try to satisfy) certain needs,
even basic ones. It should mean a different way of seeing life, culture,
novelty. diversity. 'Community' thus escapes the dangers of conservatism or of
becoming a mere repetition of empty slogans.
But
very little is said about this 'community' in terms of its structural or other
arrangement that could give some idea of its 'operative' side. It is seen in terms of a sense of
participation, an awareness of the specific contradictions of anarchism (in
truth never clear). and the desire for freedom and equality, without the former
being realised at the cost of the latter, or vice versa.
Why
do we believe that this road is equal to the first, that of declared and open
desistance? It is easily said. Because the revolutionary struggle is an
organisational fact, here and now; not simply a cultural revolution' (by the
use of this term I am not referring to Mao's cultural revolution, which has
nothing to do with us, and which was 'cultural' in name only). Because the
clash between classes leaves no room for 'margins' or free spaces that can be
reached through operations carried out within the somewhat polluted currents of
philosophical thought. Because the revolutionary always pays in first person,
so is aware he will also have to face 'sacrifice, i.e. the postponement of
projects, delay in the satisfaction of needs. Because anyone who really decides
to attack the power of the oppressors cannot reasonably think that the latter
will leave them in peace with their 'ideal' tensions of freedom and equality.
Because if they really want these places of 'communitarian' living to be at all
tangible in practical terms (and not just a cerebral exercise), they must also
give some sign of good will, i.e. pronounce themselves to be against violence,
against especially in the individual sense, and against active solidarity with
those who are really struggling and facing death every day, either at the
workplace or in the other places where opposing interests clash.
0At this point the provocation needs to be put in these terms, or so It
seems to me;
We
can talk about the idea of 'community' and limit ourselves to
that. Very well. Then we should be clear about it.
Or
we can try to put the idea of community into practice. All right.
In that case we should be more specific about communitarian structures,
activities, limitations and possibilities.
As
far as the second point is concerned, we have only a vague critique of
self-managed attempts within capitalist situations today, which do not take the
many other problems into account.
I
must say when one finds oneself faced with a myriad of not always edifying
historical examples, it is always best to take a step back from an idea, no
matter how important, useful or pleasant the latter might be. And the problem
of ‘community' is undoubtedly of this kind.
Let
us take a look at it. The idea of 'community' is not specific to anarchists. On
the contrary it has been developed throughout philosophical thought (the
academic codification of the ideas of the dominant class) in opposition to the
concept of 'society'.
Leaving
aside the specific use that Plato, Fichte and Hegel made of the idea of
'community', one example that needs to be borne in mind is Marx and Engel's
analysis of the primitive community' in which the history of humanity began.
This was to become a final community where the history of the proletariat and
the class struggle were to resolve themselves. Such philosophical determinism
reaches its full tragi-comic expression in Stalin's theories of 'community'
that stand up well alongside the theories of the National Socialists,who were
not just theoreticians but almost' architects of a community of a sacred
culture and people' (by force, of course).
So
far we are clearly within the area of a supra-national interpretation of the
concept of ‘community'.
0But another elaboration of this concept has been realised in the
workshops of academia, one that comes closest to the ideas that are being
discussed in the anarchist movement today. This sees 'community' not as a
supranational entity, but as a particular link between individuals, in other
words as a 'social relation'. According to this way of seeing things,
individual relations are brought about by common interest, creating interaction
that serves to amalgamate the 'community'.
This
concept was first formulated by the German Romantic school, by a theoretician
of religion (Schleiermacher) to be precise, in 1799, and his ideas are
undoubtedly linked to his concept of 'religion' which means 'to bound together'
or 'tie together'.
Then
in l 887 Tonnies, in a more detailed formulation, described community as a
natural organism within a kind of collective will aimed at satisfying
prevalently collective interests. In this organism, individual urges and
interests atrophy to a maximum degree, while the cultural orientation tends to
reach an almost sacred dimension. There is global solidarity between all
members. Property is held in common. Power (at least as it is understood today)
is absent.
The
model presented by Tonnies for his analysis is that of European rural society,
in the peasant villages. Kropotkin, for his part, drew on other realities (that
of the Russian 'mir') and from other anthropological literature (in the English
language), but had a fairly similar model in mind.
In
my opinion the error lies in believing that it is natural to act in a way
that is both specific to certain communitarian situations,and to the
historical course of a communitarian feeling that existed among certain peoples
before the disintegration of the social order. In other words it was thought
that some communitarian institutions had survived destruction by the modern
State and continue to exist in incomplete forms that are still visible today,
such as the family (or extended family), neighbourhood groups, co-operatives,
etc. This is all really quite naive. Less naive, but just as mistaken
(therefore dangerous), is the point of view of those who say that community is
a union' that is felt 'subjectively' by its members, whereas society is only
understood through an objective arrangement.
None of
this detracts from the feelings of solidarity, equality and the refusal of
individual power and property that the exploited have been capable of realising
in quite well-defined forms. Just as it does not detract from the concept of
self-organisation, Spontaneous creativity and projectuality of those who are
against power.
What
i want to question here is the validity and possible use oft he concept of
'Community', if only for the following reasons:
a) in the light of the history' of this concept,
we cannot consider community to indicate a value that is Superior to that of
society;
b) it follows that we cannot consider 'Community'
to be part of a cultural heritage of progress against reaction;
c) point b) is demonstrated by the fact that the
fascist and reactionary movements also-in their own way-made reference to the
concept of community;
d) it is not easy to free community from the aura of the sacred or the bearer-of-truth. This has a distorting effect on the undeniable solidarity that spreads within it, a solidarity that often extends acritically under a flag or slogan;
e) it would be far from easy to separate the
concept of ‘community' from its original
peasant and rural base
with all the implications that are now far off in time and certainty in
contrast to a general situation of profound technological change.
It
seems to me that we can wind up by simply saying that there is no need to have
recourse to concepts such as 'community', which carry pollutants that are not
easy to filter out, in order to point to the effective capacity for
self-organisation that the exploited possess.
When
this concept is used to refer to a possible organisational form, deceiving
oneself that it would overcome the limits and contradictions, dangers and
traumas that revolutionary anarchist activity inevitably carries with it in a
situation of profound social laceration such as the present, I must stress my
disagreement.
Translated
by Jean Weir, in collaboration with John Moore and Leigh Starcross.
Elephant
Editions.
BM
Elephant
London
WC1N 3XX