Introduction from the forthcoming Mutual Aid: An Illuminated Factor of Evolution by David Graeber and Andrej Grubačić

David Greaber var en af de vigtigste og mest velovervejede tænker bland nutids anarkisterne og et han bliver savnet. Sorte Fane Blog fået love at gengive denne tekst på siden af PM Press.
In loving memory of our friend, comrade, and mentor…David Graeber

Andrej Grubačić shares some thoughts on David’s sudden passing.

David Graeber was my mentor and my closest friend for the last twenty years. We have participated in dozens of political projects and wrote several things together. He was by far the most brilliant person I have ever met. We all have a good idea or two, but David was always able to come up with many, sometimes in the same sentence. I have no doubt that he was the most significant anarchist thinker of my generation.

I have even less doubt that he was one of the most important anthropologists of our time. His first book, Toward an Anthropological Theory of Value, has changed the way we theorize value. Inspired by the work of his late mentor Terry Turner and his lifelong intellectual inspiration, the French anthropologist Marcel Mauss, this book has demonstrated the way beyond substantivist debates and offered a synthesis between Marx and Mauss. His pamphlet-book Fragments of An Anarchist Anthropology, was a pathbreaking and genre-making work that has established anarchist anthropology as a legitimate field of inquiry. In this vein, his books Possibilities, Revolutions in Reverse, and Direct Action: An Ethnography provided young anthropologists with tools to study social movements “from the inside.” As one colleague once remarked about Possibilities, each chapter of this phenomenal book could have been a pathbreaking academic monograph. This book and a couple of other of his major anthropological works were published by an anarchist publisher rather than by an academic press. It is a bitter paradox that the best anthropologist theorist of his generation never felt quite at home in the established anthropology circles. He hated academic conferences with a passion. It wasn’t just because of Yale’s shameful decision to get rid of him because of his political activism; David was a working-class person who detested, with every fiber of his being, any hint of academic elitism, networking, and schmoozing. Much to his personal cost, he rejected these strange sectarian rituals of academic life. He was the most generous friend and colleague one could hope to have, and the most formidable opponent of academic snobbery. 

After he was fired from Yale, David applied to more than twenty academic jobs in the US. He hasn’t been shortlisted for a single one. But it was impossible to get rid of David Graeber. A few years after he was sent into academic exile in England, in 2011, he published one of the classic works of anthropology, Debt: The First 5,000 Years. The book was an instant classic. We spoke on the phone when he was organizing with Occupy Wall Street in New York. He would use brief moments in between direct actions to write chapters of Debt. His later books Lost People (his doctoral fieldwork on Madagascar), On Kings (with the great Marshall Sahlins), The Democracy ProjectThe Utopia of Rules, and Bullshit Jobs were superb and original.

When he died, David had just completed his most recent book, one on which he worked for several years. He teamed up with British archeologist David Wengrow to challenge some of the more stubborn assumptions of mainstream social science. This was one of the most ambitious projects David embarked upon, and it should be published in 2021. David was also involved in several projects with PM Press, including his book Uprisings, which he conceptualized together with his wife, the Russian artist Nika Dubrovsky. He was a longtime friend of the Kurdish Freedom Movement, and together we have worked on several PM Press releases dedicated to the Kurdish cause. 

His essay on Mutual Aid, intended as a foreword to Kropotkin’s great work,is probably the last essay that David wrote. We have decided to publish it and to make it available to everyone, in loving memory of our friend, comrade, and mentor.

— Andrej Grubačić, anarchist dissident, historian, and author of Don’t Mourn, Balkanize!: Essays After Yugoslavia, and Wobblies and Zapatistas: Conversations on Anarchism, Marxism and Radical History

Introduction from the forthcoming Mutual Aid: An Illuminated Factor of Evolution by David Graeber and Andrej Grubačić

Mutual Aid: An Illuminated Factor of Evolution

Sometimes—not very often—a particularly cogent argument against reigning political common sense presents such a shock to the system that it becomes necessary to create an entire body of theory to refute it. Such interventions are themselves events, in the philosophical sense; that is, they reveal aspects of reality that had been largely invisible but, once revealed, seem so entirely obvious that they can never be unseen. Much of the work of the intellectual Right is identifying, and heading off, such challenges.

Let us offer three examples.

In the 1680s, a Huron-Wendat statesman named Kondiaronk, who had been to Europe and was intimately familiar with French and English settler society, engaged in a series of debates with the French governor of Quebec, and one of his chief aides, a certain Lahontan. In them he presented the argument that punitive law and the whole apparatus of the state exist not because of some fundamental flaw in human nature but owing to the existence of another set of institutions—private property, money—that by their very nature drive people to act in such ways as to make coercive measures necessary. Equality, he argued, is thus the condition for any meaningful freedom. These debates were later turned into a book by Lahontan, which in the first decades of the eighteenth century was wildly successful. It became a play that ran for twenty years in Paris, and seemingly every Enlightenment thinker wrote an imitation. Eventually, these arguments—and the broader indigenous critique of French society—grew so powerful that defenders of the existing social order such as Turgot and Adam Smith effectively had to invent the notion of social evolution as a direct riposte. Those who first came up with the argument that human societies could be organized according to stages of development, each with their own characteristic technologies and forms of organization, were quite explicit that that’s what they were about. “Everyone loves freedom and equality,” noted Turgot; the question is how much of either is consistent with an advanced commercial society based on a sophisticated division of labor. The resulting theories of social evolution dominated the nineteenth century, and are still very much with us, if in slightly modified form, today.

In the late nineteenth century and early twentieth, the anarchist critique of the liberal state—that the rule of law was ultimately based on arbitrary violence, and ultimately, simply a secularized version of an all-powerful God that could create morality because it stood outside it—was taken so seriously by defenders of the state that right-wing legal theorists like Karl Schmitt ultimately came up with the intellectual armature for fascism. Schmitt ends his most famous work, Political Theology, with a rant against Bakunin, whose rejection of “decisionism”—the arbitrary authority to create a legal order, but therefore also to set it aside—was ultimately, he claimed, every bit as arbitrary as the authority Bakunin claimed to be opposing. Schmitt’s very conception of political theology, foundational for almost all contemporary right-wing thought, was an attempt to answer Bakunin’s God and the State.

The challenge posed by Kropotkin’s Mutual Aid: An Illuminated Factor of Evolution arguably runs deeper still, since it’s not just about the nature of government, but the nature of nature—that is, reality—itself.

Theories of social evolution, what Turgot first christened “progress,” might have begun as a way of defusing the challenge of the indigenous critique, but they soon began to take a more virulent form, as hardcore liberals like Herbert Spencer began to represent social evolution not just as a matter of increasing complexity, differentiation, and integration, but as a kind of Hobbesian struggle for survival. The phrase “survival of the fittest” was actually coined in 1852 by Spencer, to describe human history—and ultimately, one assumes, to justify European genocide and colonialism. It was only taken up by Darwin some ten years later, when, in The Origin of Species, he used it as a way of describing the forms of natural selection he had identified in his famous expedition to the Galapagos Islands. At the time Kropotkin was writing, in the 1880s and ’90s, Darwin’s ideas had been taken up by market liberals, most notoriously his “bulldog” Thomas Huxley, and the English naturalist Alfred Russel Wallace, to propound what’s often called a “gladiatorial view” of natural history. Species duke it out like boxers in a ring or bond traders on a market floor; the strong prevail.

Kropotkin’s response—that cooperation is just as decisive a factor in natural selection than competition—was not entirely original. He never pretended that it was. In fact he was not only drawing on the best biological, anthropological, archaeological, and historical knowledge available in his day, including his own explorations of Siberia, but also on an alternative Russian school of evolutionary theory which held that the English hypercompetitive school was based, as he put it, “a tissue of absurdities”: men like “Kessler, Severtsov, Menzbir, Brandt—four great Russian zoologists, and a 5th lesser one, Poliakov, and finally myself, a simple traveler.”

Still, we must give Kropotkin credit. He was much more than a simpler traveler. Such men had been successfully ignored by English Darwinians, in the heyday of empire—and, indeed, by almost everyone else. Kropotkin’s shot across the bows was not. In part, this was no doubt because he presented his scientific findings in a larger political context, in a form that made it impossible to deny just how much the reigning version of Darwinian science was itself not just an unconscious reflection of taken-for-granted liberal categories. (As Marx so famously put it, “The anatomy of Man is the key to the anatomy of the ape.”) It was an attempt to catapult the views of the commercial classes into universality. Darwinism at that time was still a conscious, militant political intervention to reshape common sense; a centrist insurgency, one might say, or perhaps better, a would-be centrist insurgency, since it was aimed at creating a new center. It was not yet common sense; it was an attempt to create a new universal common sense. If it was not, ultimately, completely successful, it was in a certain measure because of the very power of Kropotkin’s counterargument.

It is not difficult to see what made these liberal intellectuals so uneasy. Consider the famous passage from Mutual Aid, which really deserves to be quoted in full:

It is not love, and not even sympathy (understood in its proper sense) which induces a herd of ruminants or of horses to form a ring in order to resist an attack of wolves; not love which induces wolves to form a pack for hunting; not love which induces kittens or lambs to play, or a dozen of species of young birds to spend their days together in the autumn; and it is neither love nor personal sympathy which induces many thousand fallow-deer scattered over a territory as large as France to form into a score of separate herds, all marching towards a given spot, in order to cross there a river. It is a feeling infinitely wider than love or personal sympathy—an instinct that has been slowly developed among animals and men in the course of an extremely long evolution, and which has taught animals and men alike the force they can borrow from the practice of mutual aid and support, and the joys they can find in social life. . . . It is not love and not even sympathy upon which Society is based in mankind. It is the conscience—be it only at the stage of an instinct—of human solidarity. It is the unconscious recognition of the force that is borrowed by each man from the practice of mutual aid; of the close dependence of every one’s happiness upon the happiness of all; and of the sense of justice, or equity which brings the individual to consider the rights of every other individual as equal to his own. Upon this broad and necessary foundation the still higher moral feelings are developed.

One need only consider the virulence of the reaction. At least two fields of study (admittedly, overlapping ones) sociobiology and evolutionary psychology, have since been created specifically to reconcile Kropotkin’s points about cooperation between animals with the assumption that we are all ultimately driven by, as Dawkins was ultimately to put it, our “selfish genes.” When the British biologist J.B.S. Haldane reportedly said that he would be willing to lay down his life to save “two brothers, four half-brothers or eight first cousins,” he was simply parroting the kind of “scientific” calculus that was introduced everywhere to answer Kropotkin, in the same way that progress was invented to check Kondiaronk, or the doctrine of the state of exception, to check Bakunin. The phrase “selfish gene” was not chosen fortuitously. Kropotkin had revealed behavior in the natural world that was exactly the opposite of selfishness: the entire game of Darwinists now is to find some reason, any reason, to continue to insist that even the most playful, loving, whimsical, heroically self-sacrificing, or sociable behavior is really selfish after all.

The efforts of the intellectual right to meet the enormity of the challenge presented by Kropotkin’s theory are understandable. As we have already pointed out, this is precisely what they are supposed to be doing. This is why they are referred to as “reactionaries.” They don’t really believe in political creativity as a value in itself—in fact they find it profoundly dangerous. As a result, right-wing intellectuals are mainly there to react to ideas put forward by the Left. But what about the intellectual Left?

This is where things get a bit confusing. While the right-wing intellectuals sought to neutralize Kropotkin’s evolutionary holism by developing entire intellectual systems, the Marxist Left pretended that his intervention had never occurred. One might even hazard to say that the Marxist response to Kropotkin’s emphasis on cooperative federalism was to further develop the aspects of Marx’s own theory that pulled most sharply in the other direction: that is, its most productivist and progressivist aspects. Rich insights from Mutual Aid were at best ignored and, at worst, brushed off with a patronizing chuckle. There has been such a persistent tendency in Marxist scholarship, and by extension, left-leaning scholarship in general, of ridiculing Kropotkin’s “lifeboat socialism” and “naive utopianism” that a renowned biologist, Stephen Jay Gould, felt compelled to insist, in a famous essay, that “Kropotkin was no crackpot.”

There are two possible explanations for this strategic dismissal. One is pure sectarianism. As already noted, Kropotkin’s intellectual intervention was part of a larger political project. The late nineteenth century and early twentieth saw the foundations of the welfare state, whose key institutions were, indeed, largely created by mutual aid groups, entirely independently of the state, then gradually coopted by states and political parties. Most right and left intellectuals were perfectly aligned on this one: Bismarck fully admitted he created German social welfare institutions as a “bribe” to the working class so they would not become socialists; socialists insisted that anything from social insurance to public libraries be run not by the neighborhood and syndical groups that had actually created them but by top-down vanguardist parties. In this context both saw writing off Kropotkin’s ethical socialist proposals as tomfoolery as a paramount imperative. It’s also worth remembering that—partly for this very reason—in the period between 1900 and 1917, anarchist and libertarian Marxist ideas were much more popular among the working class themselves than the Marxism of Lenin and Kautsky. It took the victory of Lenin’s branch of the Bolshevik party in Russia (at the time, considered the right wing of the Bolsheviks), and the suppression of the Soviets, Proletkult, and other bottom-up initiatives in the Soviet Union itself, to finally put these debates to rest.

There’s another possible explanation though, one that has more to do with what might be called the “positionality” of both traditional Marxism and contemporary social theory. What is the role of a radical intellectual? Most intellectuals still do claim to be radicals of some sort or another. In theory they all agree with Marx that it’s not enough to understand the world; the point is to change it. But what does this actually mean in practice?

In one important paragraph of Mutual Aid, Kropotkin offers a suggestion: the role of a radical scholar is to “restore the real proportion between conflict and union.” This might sound obscure, but he clarifies. Radical scholars are “bound to enter a minute analysis of the thousands of facts and faint indications accidentally preserved in the relics of the past; to interpret them with the aid of contemporary ethnology; and after having heard so much about what used to divide men, to reconstruct stone by stone the institutions which used to unite them.”

One of the authors still remembers his youthful excitement after reading these lines. How different from the lifeless training received in the nation-centered academy! This recommendation should be read together with that of Karl Marx, whose energy went into understanding the organization and development of capitalist commodity production. In Capital, the only real attention to cooperation is an examination of cooperative activities as forms and consequences of factory production, where workers “merely form a particular mode of existence of capital.” It would seem that two projects complement each other very well. Kropotkin aimed to understand precisely what it was that an alienated worker had lost. But to integrate the two would mean to understand how even capitalism is ultimately founded on communism (“mutual aid”), even if it’s a communism it does not acknowledge; how communism is not an abstract, distant ideal, impossible to maintain, but a lived practical reality we all engage in daily, to different degrees, and that even factories could not operate without it—even if much of it operates on the sly, between the cracks, or shifts, or informally, or in what’s not said, or entirely subversively. It’s become fashionable lately to say that capitalism has entered a new phase in which it has become parasitical of forms of creative cooperation, largely on the internet. This is nonsense. It has always been so.

This is a worthy intellectual project. For some reason, almost no one is interested in carrying it out. Instead of examining how the relations of hierarchy and exploitation are reproduced, refused, and entangled with relations of mutual aid, how relations of care become continuous with relations of violence, but nonetheless hold together systems of violence so that they don’t entirely fall apart, both traditional Marxism and contemporary social theory have stubbornly dismissed pretty much anything suggestive of generosity, cooperation, or altruism as some kind of bourgeois illusion. Conflict and egoistic calculation proved to be more interesting than “union.” (Similarly, it is fairly common for academic leftists to write about Carl Schmidt or Turgot, while is almost impossible to find those who write about Bakunin and Kondiaronk.) As Marx himself complained, under the capitalist mode of production, to exist is to accumulate for the last few decades we have heard little else than relentless exhortations on cynical strategies used to increase our respective (social, cultural, or material) capital. These are framed as critiques. But if all you’re willing to talk about is that which you claim to stand against, if all you can imagine is what you claim to stand against, then in what sense do you actually stand against it? Sometimes it seems as if the academic Left has ended up as a result gradually internalizing and reproducing all the most distressing aspects of the neoliberal economism it claims to oppose, to the point where, reading many such analyses (we’re going to be nice and not mention any names), one finds oneself asking, how different all of this really is from the sociobiological hypothesis that our behavior is governed by “selfish genes!”

Admittedly, this kind of internalization of the enemy reached its heyday in the 1980s and ’90s, when the global Left was in full retreat. Things have moved on. Is Kropotkin relevant again? Well, obviously, Kropotkin was always relevant, but this book is being released in the belief that there is a new, radicalized generation, many of whom have never been exposed to these ideas directly, but who show all signs of being able to make a more clear-minded assessment of the global situation than their parents and grandparents, if only because they know that if they don’t, the world in store for them will soon become an absolute hellscape.

It’s already beginning to happen. The political relevance of ideas first espoused in Mutual Aid is being rediscovered by the new generations of social movements across the planet. The ongoing social revolution in Democratic Federation of Northeast Syria (Rojava) has been profoundly influenced by Kropotkin’s writings about social ecology and cooperative federalism, in part via the works of Murray Bookchin, in part by going back to the source, in large part too by drawing on their own Kurdish traditions and revolutionary experience. Kurdish revolutionaries have taken on the task of constructing a new social science antagonistic to knowledge structures of capitalist modernity. Those involved in collective projects of sociology of freedom and jineoloji have indeed begun to “reconstruct stone by stone the institutions which used to unite” people and struggles. In the Global North, everywhere from various occupy movements to solidarity projects confronting the Covid-19 pandemic, mutual aid has emerged as a key phrase used by activists and mainstream journalists alike. At present, mutual aid is invoked in migrant solidarity mobilizations in Greece and in the organization of Zapatista society in Chiapas. Even scholars are rumored to occasionally use it.

When Mutual Aid was first released in 1902, there were few scientists courageous enough to challenge the idea that capitalism and nationalism were rooted in human nature, or that the authority of states was ultimately inviolable. Most who did were, indeed, written off as crackpots or, if they were too obviously important to be dismissed in this way, like Albert Einstein, as “eccentrics” whose political views had about as much significance as their unusual hairstyles. The rest of the world though is moving along. Will the scientists—even, possibly, the social scientists—eventually follow?

We write this introduction during a wave of global popular revolt against racism and state violence, as public authorities spew venom against “anarchists” in much the way they did in Kropotkin’s time. It seems a peculiarly fitting moment to raise a glass to that old “despiser of law and private property” who changed the face of science in ways that continue to affect us today. Pyotr Kropotkin’s scholarship was careful and colorful, insightful and revolutionary. It has also aged unusually well. Kropotkin’s rejection of both capitalism and bureaucratic socialism, his predictions of where the latter might lead, have been vindicated time and time again. Looking back at most of the arguments that raged in his day, there’s really no question about who was actually right.

Obviously, there are still those who virulently disagree on this count. Some are clinging to the dream of boarding ships long since passed. Others are well paid to think the things they do. As for the authors of this modest introduction, many decades after first encountering this delightful book, we find ourselves—once again—surprised by just how deeply we agree with its central argument. The only viable alternative to capitalist barbarism is stateless socialism, a product, as the great geographer never ceased to remind us, “of tendencies that are apparent now in the society” and that were “always, in some sense, imminent in the present.” To create a new world, we can only start by rediscovering what is and his always been right before our eyes.

A Mini-bio of David Graeber, Written by David Himself

I was born and raised in New York City, the child of Kenneth Graeber, a plate stripper (offset photolithography), originally from Kansas, who had fought with the International Brigades in the Spanish Civil War, and Ruth (Rubinstein) Graeber, born in Poland, a garment worker and homemaker who had been the female lead in the 1930s Labor Stage musical Pins and Needles.

Brought up in the Penn South Co-ops in Chelsea, I attended local public schools PS 11 and IS 70, was discovered by some Maya archaeologists because of an odd hobby I had developed of translating Maya hieroglyphics, and received a scholarship to attend a fancy boarding school for three years, Phillips Academy at Andover, before returning to state school, at SUNY Purchase, where I graduated with a BA in anthropology in 1984.

From there I went on to the University of Chicago. I lived in Chicago for over a decade, apart from two years (between 1989 and 1991) during which I was doing anthropological fieldwork in highland Madagascar, received a PhD in 1996, and then held a series of academic jobs. These included some graduate teaching at Chicago, though admittedly not much, a year at Haverford, a year of unemployment including a visiting scholar status and one course at NYU, and a junior faculty position at Yale. In 2004, the Yale department voted not to continue my contract, before I could begin the process of coming up for tenure. This was a very unusual procedure where new rules had to be invented for my case (e.g., no student or outside reviews were allowed.) Yale gave no reason for its decision other than dissatisfaction with my scholarship, but some felt it may not have been entirely irrelevant that I was by this time quite active in the global justice movement and other anarchist-inspired projects.

After Yale I found myself unemployable in my own country, but for some mysterious reason, being avidly shopped pretty much everywhere else. I ended up at Goldsmiths, University of London, from 2007 to 2013, working with inspiring colleagues and wonderful students, and now, as a full professor, at the London School of Economics, where I am surrounded by some of the best and most interesting people one could hope to be around. After living for some years in several countries at once, I’ve finally settled full time in London.

I told a magazine once that I’ve been an anarchist since I was sixteen, so I guess that must be true, but I only really became active in any meaningful way after the beginning of 2000, when I threw myself into the alter-globalization movement. It might be said that all my work since has been exploring the relation between anthropology as an intellectual pursuit and practical attempts to create a free society—free, at least, of capitalism, patriarchy, and coercive state bureaucracies. As a result, I sometimes feel I’ve had to pursue two full-time careers of research and writing, one peer-reviewed, the other not, since in my activist-oriented work I am interested in trying to ask the sort of question those actively engaged in trying to change the world find useful or important, rather than those of funders and those influenced by same. Still, the two strains intertwine and influence one another in endless and, I hope, creative and mutually reinforcing ways.

The first book I wrote was Lost People, an ethnography of Betafo (Arivonimamo), a community in Madagascar divided between descendants of nobles and slaves, and I still think it’s my best, because it’s really co-written by all the characters (in every sense of the term) who inhabit it. It’s an attempt at a truly dialogic ethnography, but as a result it’s a bit long, so it took forever to publish it. It was effectively written in 1997 but only appeared ten years later (2007).

The first to be published was Toward an Anthropological Theory of Value (2001), in part my homage to one of my most inspiring teachers at Chicago, Terry Turner. Later, when another inspiring former mentor, Marshall Sahlins, put out a pamphlet series and asked me to contribute a volume, I wrote a tiny little book called Fragments of an Anarchist Anthropology, which has doomed me ever since to be referred to as “the anarchist anthropologist,” even though the book largely argues that anarchist anthropology doesn’t and probably couldn’t really exist. (Please don’t do that. You wouldn’t call someone “the social democrat anthropologist” would you?) I also wrote a vast ethnography of direct action (Direct Action: An Ethnography) which hardly anyone ever reads, a collection of largely academic essays titled Possibilities, an edited volume called Constituent Imagination with Stevphen Shukaitis, a book of political essays titled Revolutions in Reverse, and Debt: The First 5000 Years, which virtually everyone seems to have read. This was followed by The Democracy Project (which I actually wanted to call “As If We Were Already Free”), The Utopia of Rules (which I wanted to call “Three Essays on Bureaucracy”), On Kings (a collection co-written with Marshall Sahlins), and Bullshit Jobs: A TheoryI am currently working with the archaeologist David Wengrow on a whole series of works completely reimagining the whole question of the origins of social inequality, starting with the way the question is framed to begin with. After that, who knows?

I’ve continued to be actively engaged in social movements of one sort or another, insofar as I actually can, living in exile with a full-time job. I was involved in the initial meetings that helped set up Occupy Wall Street, for instance, and have been working with the Kurdish Freedom Movement in various capacities as well.

Oh, and since this is a matter of some historical contention: no, I didn’t personally come up with the slogan “We are the 99%.” I did first suggest that we call ourselves the 99%. Then two Spanish indignados and a Greek anarchist added the “we” and later a Food-Not Bombs veteran put the “are” between them. And they say you can’t create something worthwhile by committee! I’d include their names but considering the way police intelligence has been coming after early OWS organizers, maybe it would be better not to.

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15/9/20 Studiekreds “Emma Goldman”

15/9/20 fra kl. 17.00 til 17.45
Studiekreds “Emma Goldman” er en anarkistisk studiekreds. Det er et initiativ af en aktivist fra Bogcaféen og en anden fra Jylland. Vores mål er at gå i dybden med libertære socialistiske historie, erfaringer og tanker.Til at begynde med læser vi nogle centrale tekster, og ellers i fællesskab finder de temaer vi har brug for, for at blive klogere på, og blive inspireret til nye politiske perspektiver og eventuel fremtidige aktivistisk fællesskab.Det er et initiativ til en netbaseret studiekreds på grund af Coronakrisen og de forholdsregler det kræver, men også for at rode bod på at de anarkistiske mødesteder lige nu kun findes i Kbh. Vi vil også gerne inddrage dem, der er interesseret i anarkisme uden for det politiske miljøs andedammen.Det er ikke påkrævet at have læst langhårede bøger om emnet, for at deltage. Det eneste vi forventer er en positiv definition af anarki: Anarki er ikke kaos, men orden uden styre.Til at begynde med læser vi en intro til anarkisme skrevet af feministen og socialrevolutionære Emma Goldman:”Individet, Samfundet og Staten” som studiekredsen er opkaldt efter.
Hvis du ønsker at deltage, så kontakt
bogcaféen via Fb/E-mail du får tilsende et linke så du kan deltage.

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 Lucien van der Walt)

The crisis of the statist politics that dominated working-class politics — social democracy, Marxism-Leninism, and anti-imperialist nationalism — and the rise of neoliberalism, has aided the rediscovery of society-centred, anti-capitalist forms of bottom-up change “at a distance” from the state. This article critically assess the three main modes of “at a distance” politics: “outside-but-with” the state, which combines using the state with popular movements; “outside-and-despite” the state, aiming at disintegrating the system by building alternatives in its cracks; and “outside-and-against” the state, associated with anarchism/ syndicalism, rejects the state for building autonomous working class counter-power that can resist, then defeat, state and capital. While each mode has limits, the anarchist/ syndicalist approach is arguably the most convincing, and its implications are serious. And it directs militants to work within the mass movements of the popular classes


For much of the last hundred years, the dominant parts of anti-systemic movements focused on winning state power, seeing an “enabling state” as the essential means for social transformation. The idea that radical social transformation meant wielding state power was shared by ever-increasing sectors of the anti-capitalist left, of workers’ movements, and of national liberation forces.

However, by the 1990s, state-centric models, whether social democratic, Soviet-Marxist or anti-imperialist nationalist, were in crisis. By the 1970s already, they had become marked by economic failures, non-achievement of many of their stated goals, and the inability to sustain themselves in the face of an increasingly internationalised capitalism, a deep global economic crisis and a shifting geopolitical order.

Further, marked by endemic inequality, they all faced popular unrest and dissatisfaction with their top-down, bureaucratic and statist approaches, much of this from labour and the left. For example, workers in Tanzania occupied factories in the early 1970s, in defiance of a government calling itself “African socialist,” while workers’ movements toppled African governments across the continent in the 1980s and early 1990s; workers rebelled across the Marxist world in the 1960s, and again, the 1980s; massive strikes shook the West, most famously in France in 1968, as ordinary people demanded deep changes in the workplace and the larger society.


As the old systems of state-led capitalism crumbled – import-substitution-industrialisation in the south, Marxist-Leninist central planning in the east, the Keynesian welfare state in the west – the door was opened to the victory of global neoliberalism. This was a new phase of capitalism, not a mere change in a few policies that could easily be undone with better policies.

Neoliberalism marked the end of the era of state-led models of capitalism, but did not mark the end of the capitalist state, or even the involvement of the state in capitalism. Neoliberalism centres on free markets, but it does not remove the state, nor weaken it – the state is not gone, but is manifestly an agency for massive interventions to subsidise capital, expand commodification and discipline the popular classes.

*States are not victims of a neoliberalism that somehow appears from somewhere else, external to the state, but its key authors.* The major multilateral organisations that drive neoliberalism, like the International Monetary Fund (IMF), World Bank and World Trade Organisation (WTO, formerly the General Agreement on Trade and Tariffs, GATT) are not, as some believe, private banks or organisations of multi-national corporations (MNCs) – their members and shareholders for the first two, and their members for the latter, are states.

The expansion of MNCs, and their ability to move capital around the planet with ease, is not something that happened to states. It was only made possible in the first place by states liberalising their controls of over capital movements and currencies, to allow such movement, and the role of states in creating an international infrastructure for such activities, which enables such movement. Naturally, different states have different agendas in allowing these changes: for poorer countries like

China in the 1980s, for example, this was a means of attracting investment; for richer countries like the USA in that time, this was a means of accessing cheaper labour, skipping unions and dodging environmental laws.


The end of the supposedly “enabling state” disabled anti-systemic movements enamoured of states. I do not mean, and do not want to be misunderstood as saying, that the old models of labour and left politics are dead. On the contrary, these retain enormous attraction, and continue to attract substantial support. Globally, there has been some revival in the fortunes of left-of-centre parties, like the Communist Party of India (Marxist) (CPI-M), the Social Democratic Party (SPD) in Germany and the Workers’ Party (PT) in Brazil, as well as the formation of various new left parties during the 2000s, including in South Africa. We can also note the excitement with which many greeted the Venezuela government under Hugo Chavez, the interest in Bernie Sanders in the USA and in Jeremy Corbyn in Britain, and the push to form new left parties in South Africa.

I am suggesting, instead, that these models are no longer workable. Not only did they collapse after nearly fifty years in crises, but they also operated in a very different global context. The Keynesian welfare state in the West, for example, assumed class compromises based within specific nation-states, in which a business class largely focused on the national market was willing and able to make significant compromises with the national working class, and in which that class could exert enormous power and threat, in the context of massive economic growth that could fund substantial improvements in popular conditions without threatening capitalism. None of these conditions apply anymore.

The dominant section of private capitalists is organised in MNCs which have no interest in national level pacts, seeking instead advantages and markets across the globe; working class movements are weak, even if still very large (and in fact growing); there is almost nowhere in the world where ruling classes experience the working class as a deadly threat or expect a socialist revolution from below, a situation dramatically different from the 150 years that ended in the 1990s, with the rise of various forms of socialism from the 1840s; and low growth and recurrent crises since the 1970s have reduced the money available for redistribution to the popular classes and pressured capitalists to roll back the gains made in the past by working people, and redistribute wealth and power upwards. If the 1940s to the 1970s saw falling inequality, the 1990s onwards has seen inequality skyrocket.

So, the problem is not just that neoliberalism has come to dominate, but that the main alternatives that were presented in much of the twentieth century *are no longer feasible*, even if they were ever desirable. As SYRIZA found in Greece, as the ANC found in South Africa, and as the PT found in Brazil, neoliberalism is the name of today’s game. Even Venezuela’s “Bolivarian” model was premised not on a sharp break with the neoliberal order, but simply a boom in oil revenues driven by neoliberal capitalism elsewhere that allowed, for a time, some booms in welfare. Beyond this, the Venezuelan economy was in crisis well before the recent US sanctions, and, when the oil price fell, the model fell apart.

The victory of neoliberalism, then, was partly due to the absence of a clear labour and left alternative at the time that which could be championed by the working class. But this was because the working-class movement faced the crisis, failure and passing away of the main statist models. It could either pose these as an alternative again, and fail; or seeing the failure, be demoralised and accept neoliberalism or defeat; or they could seek a third option, beyond the state.


This situation has led directly to a crisis of the dominant currents in left and working-class politics, but it has also opened space for the *rediscovery* of society-centred, anti-capitalist modes of bottom up change, labelled as “at a distance” politics. These had always existed, and had been very influential into the 1940s, but were supplanted from 1945 worldwide by statism. In recent years too, “at a distance” politics have registered important successes in practice, such as the Zapatistas in Mexico.

These society-centred positions involve a politics of anti-capitalist transformation that question fundamentally state-centred change. In place of statist and hierarchical models, “at a distance” politics stress possibilities for more democratic, bottom-up and radical models of transformation – previously often effaced by state-centric struggles and the project of capturing state power, but now increasingly rediscovered.[1] For example, within anti-apartheid organisations of the 1970s and 1980s, there was also an implicitly anti-statist tendency which sought to build a different form of politics, often consciously opposed to the top-down logic of state hierarchies and governance. For instance, the declared aim of the United Democratic Front (UDF, formed in 1983) of constructing “people’s power” and the stress by many black-centred trade unions, notably those in the “workerist” tradition of the Federation of South African Trade Unions (FOSATU, formed in 1979) on “workers’ control,” were indicative of a vision of an incipient politics of transformation that – despite ambiguities, contradictions and limitations –did *not* centre on using the state for liberation.

A “politics of emancipation” that is at a “distance from the state,” and not centred on the capture of state power, is not a monolithic project.[2] This is not because “at a distance” politics inevitably rejects unity or makes a virtue of disagreement and incoherence, but simply because there is no single “at a distance” model.” Politics at a distance from the state” actually describes *a range of approaches* that are grouped together more because of their scepticism about state-centred change – *such a politics does not even have to be anti-statist.*

It is possible to distinguish, analytically, at least three modes of “at a distance” politics: “outside-but-with” the state; “outside-and-despite” the state and “outside-and-against” the state.[3] These are not necessarily the labels these three broad modes of “at a distance” politics themselves use, but they serve as a useful way of dividing up the types, the better to understand them.


This holds that radical change should not centre on the state. Rather, popular initiatives, movements and autonomy should have maximum scope, but should be combined with transforming and democratising the state. In place of a statism that supplants popular self-activity, and a politics that rejects the state in all instances, this mode involves a synergy (or at least a creative tension). It seeks to move beyond the traditional social democratic stress on parliament and corporatism, by complementing these with popular mobilisation.[4] Although often presented as new, these ideas had earlier incarnations in, for example, Guild Socialism.

This is certainly “politics at a distance from the state,” since it neither reduces politics to the state, nor seeks to subsume popular struggles into the state apparatus, yet it is also not anti-statist – it is a “politics at a distance” that is “outside-but-with” the state. There have been a wide range of efforts to implement it, and a range of possible modalities for its operation. For Murphy Morobe in 1987, for instance, the anti-apartheid coalition the United Democratic Front (UDF), in which he was a leader, built “active, mass-based democratic organisations and democratic practices within these organisations” to fight the apartheid state, but the idea was that, after apartheid, these would exist alongside parliament.[5] […] One strand in the “workerist” tradition of Federation of South African Trade Unions (FOSATU) also fits: it aimed at building workers power and a radical working-class movement, but it was also willing to participate in state institutions, including the courts and the statutory bargaining machinery, even under the apartheid state.

The politics of “outside-but-with” the state is based on the idea that the state is a contested terrain, susceptible to popular demands and anti-capitalist policies. The state acting against people is seen as due to the state being temporarily captured by the wrong groups. Pressure on the state, from outside, and work within the state, as well as alliances between states and movements, are seen as ways of transforming the state, and of pushing back capitalism. There is, according to this view, no built-in relationship between capitalism and the state; the state can be delinked from capitalism, either to remove it or to place it under some sort of regulation that benefits the popular classes. Very often this view looks optimistically at the past, speaking in terms of a golden age before neoliberalism, in which, supposedly, states were truly democratic.


The problem here is that this does not consider that states are closely linked to capitalism, if for no other reason than that they are funded by capitalism: taxes on profits, taxes on incomes, taxes on sales, and loans from banks. This immediately limits what states are able to do; in a context where capitalism is neoliberal and crisis-ridden, it seems most unlikely that states will take sides with the people against capitalism. In other words, states can vary in what they do, and states are certainly shaped by popular struggles, but there are *absolute* limits on what states can or will do.

States are also centralised, disempowering and top-down institutions, and, as such, provide little scope for popular involvement. If the state is centralised, as all states are, how exactly can the majority of people participate in any meaningful ongoing way?

And if states have institutional imperatives of their own – survival in a competitive interstate system, the need to maintain capitalist accumulation, the reproduction of their control over territories etc. – will these not reshape *popular* movements, on the pattern of the state? To put it another way, if the state is top-down and works on its own agenda, it can only include popular movements in ways that will in turn, make those movements more centralised and more compatible with state structures.

There is, in other words, a contradiction between the top-down logic of the state (and of the capitalist corporation) and the bottom-up logic of democratic, popular movements – the two could not be reconciled in the manner “outside-but-with” proposals suggested.


This position is often identified with a strand of unorthodox Marxism promoted by the autonomist John Holloway, but it is far from unique to that Marxism. The core idea is that ordinary people can build a new society outside of the state, and capitalism. For Holloway, the state is nothing but a reflection of capitalism, so it is pointless to use it. But since that means you cannot capture the state peacefully (as in social democracy) or by force (as in Marxism-Leninism), what should you do?

Holloway suggests that the first step is to refuse to participate in the system, which is created and recreated daily by our actions.[6] We should rather build alternatives in the cracks of the system, and where there are enough cracks that are widened enough, the system will start to crumble. Since there is no party with a unified project, and no central aim, like winning state power, the argument continues, there is no single project. There is a stress on open-ended and indeterminate processes, and scepticism towards grand programmes and revolutionary schemas. In fact, to create any such unified project risks seems bring back the state and the party. Rather, an experimental and evolving communism will somehow emerge in these alternative spaces. Everyday practices that reject the imposed system and its way of thinking widen the cracks to the point where the system is broken.

Although Holloway claims not to have a formula, we can infer one from his writings: the alternatives should be based on horizontal relations, acceptance of difference, a stress on the *process* of making change as more important than the ultimate change itself, a rejection of moving power away from people, and a fairly straightforward schema for change where people do more and more, until it is enough.


Holloway’s examples of “building ways of living that don’t depend on wage labour” [7] are extremely modest: meetings in squares, the re-opening of closed factories, and “community gardens.” [8] However, as ruling classes *already* have a virtual monopoly on administrative, economic and military resources, how will those resources be moved over? If they are not, these tiny islands will operate within a capitalist sea and be eroded by it, rather than change society as a whole.

This raises questions of how the means of production, for example, will be placed under popular control on a meaningful scale, and how the armed might of the state will be fended off. If popular movements did move into direct confrontations on the terrains controlled by ruling classes, by for example, seizing open factories, this would mean open conflict, war from above by powerful elites, who would not simply wither away.

At its core, the system is not based on agreement, or a majority vote. It is difficult to see how a series of projects, lacking a clear programme and ideology, will be able to tackle highly organised and centralised ruling classes.

Dodging such issues – with references to the need to avoid dogma and so on – is extremely dangerous and avoids a key discussion. At the end of the day there is a need for a clear strategy, and a clear debate on strategy. While claiming not to have a strategy, and to be open and experimental, the “outside-and-despite” approach, in effect, advocates a very narrow strategy and closes down debates on strategy.

Finally, there is also really nothing that makes alternative institutions, relations and struggles automatically lead to a new egalitarian, “communism” – the transition in South Africa, born out of struggles from below, but ending in neoliberal capitalism, surely shows this. This means the battle of ideas does matter, and that raises the question of how to wage it.


The third mode – often associated with anarchism/syndicalism – argued that states were centralised institutions of class rule: they were centralised organisations that existed to allow small ruling classes to rule. They did this by concentrating in a few hands the major means of administration and coercion – centralisation allowed a few to wield these resources – and they ensured class exploitation continued – which also required that major means of production were owned and controlled by a few, either in a state or private corporations.

This meant that states could not be used for radical change by the working class – first, because they were designed for the opposite purpose, second, because their centralised structure prevented the mass of people participating in them, and, third, because the price of participation was the centralisation and corruption of movements that participated.

So, the alternative was then not to build a political party to take state power, or to participate in the state, but to build, firstly, bottom-up, democratic organs of *“counter-power”* that could empower people to *resist* the ruling class, fight against all forms of oppression and exploitation as a means of unifying the popular classes and forging an egalitarian movement, thereby creating the *nucleus* of a future, self-governed socialist system. This would mean taking over means of administration, coercion and production directly and placing these under the control, of the organs of counter-power.[9]

The alternative would involve, secondly, a project of promoting a revolutionary *“counter-culture,”* or alternative worldview/ *counter-hegemony*, that would provide a critique of the existing world, embody alternative values and outline the framework of, and strategy for, a new world. There was just no automatic move from struggle to revolutionary change. The battle of ideas was needed.

In an example of this approach, unions could be repositioned to agitate, educate and organise, building capacity to seize and self-manage the means of production.

So, basically, there is a stress on building a new society from outside the state, based on people being active; this approach rejects the use of political parties to capture state power. Although some form of political organisation could play a role in building counter-power and counter-hegemony, it cannot itself take power. You can win reforms – but through protest and pressure outside the state. Reforms are possible, but not enough, and ultimately the state – the existing state – must be replaced with a democracy from below.


One of the common criticisms of this approach is the claim that the revolutionary changes that it envisages are risky. Obviously, the ultimate outcome of this project would be a showdown between the mass of the people and the state – and with it, the ruling classes – which also means a confrontation with the armed forces of the state. This would be very destabilising, may not result in a successful revolution, and might even lead to a degeneration of the revolution, in that the need to win the battle might lead to a destruction of the democratic core of the revolutionary project. The danger is that there are no checks and balances – like Chapter 9 institutions – and therefore, the worst outcome would be a worse system.

Another criticism is that the project is a bit unrealistic – it basically assumes that there will be a steady accumulation of power by the people, but will this be permitted? Such a revolutionary project could face repression, but will anyway be threatened by continual changes in the capitalist system, e.g. economic crisis, the fourth industrial revolution. If the revolution is disrupted, then either it will have to take place where people are not ready – the counter-power is weak and limited in coverage, and the counter-hegemony is weak – which would mean a high risk of failure; or the process of building counter-power must take time to recover. However, if the process keeps getting pushed back like this, then will the revolution ever happen? If not, what is the point of the project?

This would lead to a third criticism: the scope for revolution is exaggerated, so the focus should be on small realistic changes. These are more feasible, and in any case, the pessimistic (negative) view of the state here maybe ignores how much change is possible *within* the existing system.


How we think about the state is crucial to what we think works best – there is a different theory about the nature of the state at work in each approach, which also links to a view of how society works. Is society, and is societal change, based upon endless class struggles? Are the differences in society something that can be effectively and peacefully resolved? Another issue to be aware of here is that there are different views of what type of political practice is better – top-down, bottom-up, plans, no plans, struggle, peaceful change? This leads to quite different views of movement-building, e.g. should it involve parties, parliaments, use of courts, and use of state grants; should it have leaders and, if so, of what type?


[1] Helliker, K. and L. van der Walt. 2018. “Politics at a Distance from the State: Radical, South African and Zimbabwean praxis today.” In K. Helliker and L. van der Walt. (eds.). ‘Politics at a Distance from the State: Radical and African perspectives.’ London and New York: Routledge.
[2] Badiou, A., F. Del Lucchese, and J. Del Smith. 2008. “‘We Need a Popular Discipline’: Contemporary politics and the crisis of the negative.” ‘Critical Inquiry,’ Vol 34 (4): 47, 649-650.
[3] Helliker and van der Walt, “Politics at a Distance from the State.”
[4] Wainwright, H. November 2004. “Change the World by Transforming Power, including State Power!” ‘Red Pepper.’
[5] Morobe, M. 1987. “Towards a People’s Democracy: The UDF view.” ‘Review of African Political Economy,’ 40: 81-88.
[6] Holloway, J. 2005. ‘Change the World without Taking Power: The meaning of revolution today.’ Revised edn.. London: Pluto Press; Holloway, J. 2010. ‘Crack Capitalism.’ London: Pluto Press.
[7] Holloway, J. 29 September 2014. “John Holloway: Cracking capitalism vs. the state option.” ‘ROAR’ Magazine.
[8] Bonefeld, W. and J. Holloway. 2014. “Commune, Movement, Negation: Notes from tomorrow.” ‘South Atlantic Quarterly,’ Vol 113 (2): 214–215.
[9] Van der Walt, L. 2018, “Back to the Future: Revival, relevance and route of an anarchist/ syndicalist approach to 21st century left, labour and national liberation movements.” In K. Helliker and L. van der Walt. (eds.). ‘Politics at a Distance from the State: Radical and African perspectives.’ London and New York: Routledge.

SOURCE: John Reynolds & Lucien van der Walt (eds.), 2019, “Strategy: Debating Politics Within and at a Distance from the State,”(NALSU), Rhodes University, Makhanda, South Africa.

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Anarkistiskt Pedagogik

Kärlek Uppror Anarki

[Den här texten publicerades som en artikelserie på Anarkistiska Studiers blogg i tre delar. Tyvärr verkar bloggen vara nere för tillfället så jag lägger upp den här med för säkerhetsskull.]


En gång frågade jag en anarkistvän som har två döttrar i min egen ålder, hur hon uppfostrat dem till att också bli anarkister? Hennes svar blev enkelt. Hon hade inte ”uppfostrat” dem till att bli anarkister. Inga särskilda regler. De hade både fått leka med Barbiedockor och äta på McDonalds – i motsats till många andra familjer med mindre frihetliga vänsteridéer.

På den tiden lät detta som revolutionära dödssynder för mig. Men i senare samtal med andra anarkister som vuxit upp i familjer där en eller flera vuxna familjemedlemmar varit anarkister, visade det sig att ingen direkt upplevt att det tjatades mycket om anarkism. I samtalen kom vi dessutom fram till att de flesta vi kände till som vuxit…

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17/10/19 Skoler er fængsler

scuolaSkoler betyder strukturel tvang. Det er et sted hvor børns frihed er begrænset til et omfang som voksne aldrig ville tolerere på deres arbejdsplads. Skolen ødelægger lysten til leg og læring ved at påduttet læring. Skolesystemet er helt igennem udemokratiske institutioner, da det er få, der bestemmer, hvad mange skal lære. Foredraget leverer en anarkistisk kritik af nutidens skoler og afslutter med en debat om mulige alternativer til folkeskolen, gymnasiet m.m.

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10/10/19 Francisco Ferrer & Escuela Moderna

ferrercomicDen 13. 10. 1909 myrdes Francisco Ferrer. Han var stifteren af Escuela Moderna i Barcelona. Hans henrettelse gjorde ham med ét internationalt kendt langt uden for Spaniens grænser. Resultatet var, at der blev grundlagt adskillige skoler i Spanien, USA og flere andre lande. Foredraget omhandler Ferrers libertære kritik af samtidens skoler, samt hvordan den bliver omsat i praksis af fattige arbejdere, emigranter og militante revolutionære.

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9/8/19 Foredrag: Anarkisme og sci fi

Billedet indeholder sandsynligvis: 1 person, solbriller og skægSeb Doubinsky: Prisvindende forfatter om anarkisme og sci fi
“Seb Doubinsky er en prisbelønnet forfatter inden for politisk science fiction. Hans romaner finder sted i en parallel verden, meget lignende vores, hvor by-stater kæmper om magten. I The Song of Synth, White City og Missing Signal, for eksempel, beskæftiger han sig med temaer som politisk overvågning, social ulighed, stoffer, nazistisk ideologi og fake news”.
Seb Doubinsky fortæller om hans forfatterskab som et politisk instrument, og hvordan hans anarkistiske syn hjælper ham med at udvikle temaerne i hans romaner.


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Oslo anarchist micro bookfair

Billedet indeholder sandsynligvis: tekst og friluftsliv

@ blitz infoshop 12:00 – 18:00
Clear out of all old and new books, newspapers, fanzines, magazines, merchandise, records, casettes, cd’s, t-shirts etc.
Excellent opportunity to haggle or get that book you never knew we stocked or just stop by for some cake, tea, coffee and a chat.

We want everything to go, and to start fresh.
There will be lists where you can write down what we should stock in future.
// Vegan friendly // no smoking // accessible venue on ground floor only (stairs) // cash //
!! Other distro’s welcome to use the space !!

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9/11/2019 Anarkistisk Bogmesse Kbh.

64744717_1029935247210691_7804313085614751744_n🔥 Donate: 🔥

— English below —

Anarkistisk Bogmesse København 2019 er et åbent rum for anarkister og mennesker, der er interesseret i anarkisme.

Idet verden ændrer sig, har vi brug for fysiske rum til at møde hinanden. Vi vil inspirere og blive inspireret, dele vores viden, erfaringer og oplevelser, skabe et rum for læring og idéudvikling, dyrke solidaritet på tværs af kampe og møde både gamle og nye venner. Vi vil styrke de fællesskaber og alliancer, som allerede eksisterer, og vi vil bruge bogmessen som næring til at gro nye.

Bogmessen består af boder fra anarkistiske og lignende projekter, hæng ud områder for voksne og børn så vel som vegansk mad, musik og udstillinger. Der vil også være oplæg og workshops. Dette års fokus er anarkistiske syn på nutidige kampe og forslag til løsninger baseret på både teori og praksis.

🏴 Mere info følger – opdateringer i event-opslag 🏴


The Anarchist Bookfair Copenhagen 2019 will be an open space for anarchists and people interested in Anarchism.

As the world is changing, we need spaces to meet each other in person. We want to inspire and be inspired, share our knowledge and experiences, create a space for learning and development of ideas, cultivate solidarity across struggles and meet both old friends and new ones. We want to strengthen the communities and alliances that already exists, and we want to use the bookfair as nourishment to grow new ones.

The bookfair consist of distros from anarchist and similar projects, hang out spaces for adults and kids as well as vegan food, music and exhibitions. There will also be talks and workshops. This year the focus will be on anarchist views on current struggles as well as suggestions for solutions based on both theory and praxis.

🏴 More info to come – updates in event posts 🏴



🔥 DISTROS (more to come):
Amalthea Bokkafé
Bogcaféen Barrikaden
Bogcaféen Halmtorvet
Det Poetiske Bureaus Forlag
Rojava Alliancen

🔥️ TALKS (more to come):

🔥 WORKSHOPS (more to come):

🔥 ACTIVITIES (more to come):

🔥 FOOD (more to come):
Vegan foods and drinks.

🔥 POLITICS (more to come):

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Andreas Fritzner (1887-1969), Syndikalisten — Wuddi’s reflektioner

Andreas Fritzner er en radikaliseret venstreorienteret, samtiden kaldte dem syndikalister, han er indædt modstander af militæret og ender i fængsel for at nægte militærtjeneste Andreas Fritzner er født ind i en fattig københavnsk familie. Den fattigdom han møder i barndomshjemmet gør ham til syndikalist. Det vil sige, at han tror på fagbevægelsen og direkte aktioner […]

via Andreas Fritzner (1887-1969), Syndikalisten — Wuddi’s reflektioner

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22. januar 2019 · 16:22