Solidarity Charlotte

by Mason Whims’N'Bombs

Revolutionary thought and the left wing in America has burned out, now a simple band of embers adrift throughout the nation in either solitude or impotence. Radicalism has become the fiercest of political ironies: a machine of dead rhetoric and redundant conversation, signifying nothing. We have organizations: acronyms, meetings, spokesmen. At once we involve ourselves in projects and spurn talk as tired and useless, and then we talk and spurn action as difficult and weak. We go door to door, attempting to convert the masses to the First Church of Marxism, but all of our proselytizing rings dull. We certainly exist, but only in hallucinations do we flourish; fortunately, the left seems to live in a hallucination.

By no means am I a veteran of the struggle. I have not put in the Sisyphus-like effort to change things that other leftists have nor spent my time charting the subtle threads of extreme thought through its thin ravines in America, trying to organize, trying to revolt. But it has not taken long for me to realize that my own dream of the revolution as an upturned jar of paint over the country, an overwhelming jolt of color through the capital-addicted veins of our junky, America, was merely the product of a schizophrenic fever. I hear: That isn’t left! That’s revisionist/reactionary/ridiculous! We’re all about the redistribution of material and means of production to the hands of the proletariat, the labor value of an overcoat being in turn reclaimed by the production of that overcoat insofar as the division of labor represents an equivalent divide…and so on. And capitalism is materialistic?

Of course the way capitalism distributes the means of production and livelihood is unjust. Exploitative. Tyrannical. I am an anarchist. There is little that I feel more strongly about—but why? Because it is precisely this system of competition and oppression that destroys our humanity and processes it into capital and utility; it is an organ of the biological narrative, an occult design of the true tyrant: animalism. Because I believe humans are capable of going beyond being simply animals vying for their own survival and reproduction upon the cosmic insignificance that is Earth to living meaningfully and creatively, I believe in a society without a coercive state or economy. Something that will never be achieved by a material revolution. Something a vanguard could never arrange for other human beings.

The left is stagnant when it should be the most fluid, living and breathing political movement of all. The right, which actually prefers stasis as a societal principle, is more lively than the decrepit American left. But wherefore this stagnation?

Any political movement should constantly be recreating itself as the conditions of the society around it change. New dialogues and conversations should perpetually arise in tandem with the life and virility of the people. Discussing further the subtleties of The Communist Manifesto moves us nowhere. Religiously abiding by the principles of the “classicists,” who were discussing and commenting on their own times in their own societies, is murder to our conviction. An internal revolution in the left must take place before external revolt can even be dreamt.

Revolution requires the full force and focus of its supporters. It is a struggle as tenuous as the rope in a tug-of-war and is sustained only by the consistent effort of everyone involved. On this we likely agree. But when a revolution fights only for material justice or only attempts to revise social organization, the full focus of its initiators is impossible if they are to retain their full humanity. There is more to life than struggle: there must be something that we struggle for. We may currently recognize that this “exterior” humanity exists, and even support it, but we do not incorporate it. As long as our struggle ignores and alienates the creativity, passion, and breadth of those who comprise it, it cannot expect to remain afloat. That very passion, be it for art, music, literature, mixed martial arts or even recreational drugs, must become the revolution itself.

But what is the mechanism whereby we become the revolution, rather than merely supporters of it (Napoleans that we all are)? First let’s reconsider what “revolution” actually means. Is it the accumulation of force by the proletariat to abolish current structures and redistribute material? No. Revolution is far more fundamental and does not apply only to the proletariat: it is the liberation of oneself and others from whatever element coerces our freedom or prevents us from being truly free. An exploitative capitalist is as much a slave to the meaninglessness in society as those he exploits. People are bastards because something makes them bastards. The structure of society compels its human components to act in certain ways that sustain the system—and who does the system work for? No, it’s not the bourgeoisie. It’s not the politicians. It’s certainly not the workers. All it works for, in the end, is itself; it is merely the biological compulsion of animals, the quest to reproduce, on a monolithic, hugely complex scale. Yes, capitalism is all about fucking. Anarchism is the radical idea that humans can go beyond this basic function of their species to create meaning within the universe cooperatively rather than suffer the engine of biological destiny.

Thus revolution is transcendence. On a societal scale, it is the struggle to go beyond oneself and liberate others that they may do the same. When we, as a society, realize that the system works only for itself and yet is comprised of us, human beings, we can dismantle it. The left’s fight is to make that realization possible. If we attempt to do this with violence, the life’s blood of the animal machine, our action means nothing and achieves nothing. Our only hope is to live freely in disobedience and help others do the same. In Camus’ words: “the only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so absolutely free that your very existence is an act of rebellion.”

I propose, then, that the major revolutionary tool is dialogue. Social projects have the double utility of helping to sustain our communities and giving us the access to interact with them. And never should we forget that we are not talking to the people, but with them. Which brings us to the question of rhetoric.

The rhetoric of the left wing was, when it was fresh and urgent, quite effective. Though its words may have been betrayed on the actual eve of revolt, it had the undeniable power to unite the population. In present times, we utilize this same rhetoric to no or negative effects. Pamphlets reading “Workers Solidarity!” might appeal to other people in the left, but the rest of the world has an aversion to classical Soviet rhetoric, or is simply tired of it. It doesn’t work anymore. And when it did work, as previously stated, it was crucially flawed. The concept of disseminating ideas (propaganda) sounds fine or even necessary, but it isn’t really effective. Most of the pamphlets that I’ve read have been somewhat informational and quite sound. But without interaction and dialogue, these pamphlets don’t actually serve to liberate intelligence. Today, getting people to actually read pamphlets at all is difficult, and converting people with them even more so. But even were pamphlets or other forms of propaganda to succeed in convincing someone to adopt certain ideological tenants, this person would likely just remain closed-minded, passive, and inconsiderate with a new set of words to spew. This doesn’t liberate anyone. The new leftist rhetoric must be founded upon the dissemination of discourse, dialogue, discussion, consideration. Our method is not to pass around leaflets with slogans, but to expand the forum of discussion with other individuals, who then can expand it further. If we think our ideology is threatened by debate and discussion with others, it simply isn’t tenable. Confidence doesn’t mean the willingness to shoot at government officials or throw molotov cocktails. It is the active will to discuss, defend, and reconsider one’s position. I have seen people from a variety of political persuasions become leftists by fair and spirited talks alone. It’s an undeniably effective method, and it’s far more healthy for the mind than propaganda, which is just a thinly disguised form of vanguardism. There is no set rhetoric or slogan that one should use in this approach: we simply discuss as we feel, attempting to engage how others think and look at the world. Other benefits of this approach include the ability to gauge people and confront them without making them uncomfortable, as they would be with soviet anthems, and the lack of actual material required, which allows discussion to spread with greater ease and speed.

Perhaps most importantly, we must constantly consider our goal when engaging the people. We wish to confront their minds and liberate their intelligences, make them capable of thought outside of that prescribed by the system, have them realize the full depth of their and others’ humanity. We do not want to program them a certain way or have them simply adopt our ideology, though sound it may be. The militant left launches its kneejerk counterattack: dissent and freedom of speech are threats to the revolution, and must be prevented at all measures! I respond: If a revolution can be threatened by freedom, it’s not a revolution. It’s simple homicide. I believe that freedom itself is the ascent to anarchy, and if I am wrong, society will organize itself according to what it believes is right. No ideology will make that decision for it.

Yet another fatal flaw in the organization of the left is its rabid sectarianism. Even different organizations of shared beliefs slander and avoid one another, all the while preaching solidarity. Of course we cannot agree on every issue or every facet of methodology. But that does not mean that we cannot meet on a common battleground. We should struggle with others when and where they support the same fight, though elsewhere we may disagree—and it is precisely where we disagree that we should discuss. We’re all in this together; the worst thing we could do is alienate each other.

I conclude. My opinion? The left wing cannot survive if it does not revolt against itself and reconsider its every position in the greater context of the human being. The revolution cannot happen if it does not encompass the entire spectrum of being human, does not imbue itself to our very culture. Says Emma Goldman: “If I can’t dance, I don’t want to be part of your revolution.” Neither should anyone.

And most vitally, the left must realize that it is a living movement. Our breath is hot. Our flesh is young. Our eyes are bloodshot and our blood is red. You haven’t killed us yet.