this latter, — theologians estimate transgressions by the place they occupy on tlie road whicli, according to average human experience, leads to mortal sin; they are thus LETTER TO DANIEL HALEVY 99 able to ascertain the degree of viciousness of any given sin, — while the modems usually teach that we act after having established a particular maxim (which is, as it were, an abstraction or generalisation of our projected conduct), and justify this maxim by deducing it (more or less sophistically) from general principles which are, to a certain extent, analogous to the Declaration of the Rights of Man; and, as a matter of fact, this theory was probably inspired by the admiration excited by the Bill of Rights placed at the head of each American constitution.^ We are all so extremely concerned in knowing what the world thinks of us that, sooner or later, considerations analogous to those the moralists speak of do pass through our mind; as a result of this the moralists have been able to imagine that they have really made an appeal to experience for the purpose of finding out what exists at the bottom of the creative conscience, when, as a matter of fact, all they have done is to consider already accom- plished acts from the point of view of its social effects.
Bergson asks us, on the contrary, to consider the inner depths of the mind and what happens there during a creative moment. " There are," he says, " two different selves, one of which is, as it were, the external projection of the other, its spatial and, so to speak, social representa- tion. We reach the former by deep introspection, which leads us to grasp our inner states as living things, con- stantly becoming, as states not amenable to measure...But the moments at which we thus grasp ourselves are 1 The Constitution of Virginia dates from June 1776. The American constitutions were known in Europe by two French translations, in 1778 and 1789. Kant had published the Foundations of the Metaphysic of Custom in 1785 and the Critique of Practical Reason in 1788. One might say that the utilitarian system of the ancients has certain analogies with economics, that of the theologians with law, and that of Kant with the political theory of growing democracy (cf. Jellinck, La Declaration des droits de I'homme et du citoyen, trad, franc, pp. 18-25; so REFLECTIONS ON VIOLENCE rare, and that is just why we are rarely free. The greater part of our time we live outside ourselves, hardly per- ceiving anything of ourselves but our own ghost, a colour- less shadow...Hence we live for the external world rather than for ourselves; we speak rather than think; we are acted rather than act ourselves. To act freely is to recover possession of oneself, and to get back into pure duration." ^ In order to acquire a real understanding of this psy- chology we must " carry ourselves back in thought to those moments of our life, when we made some serious decision, moments unique of their kind, which will never be repeated — any more than the past phases in the history of a nation will ever come back again." ^ It is very evident that we enjoy this liberty pre-eminently when we are making an effort to create a new individuality in ourselves, thus endeavouring to break the bonds of habit which enclose us. It might at first be supposed that it would be sufficient to say that, at such moments, we are dominated by an overwhelming emotion; but everybody now recognises that movement is the essence of emotional life, and it is, then, in terms of movement that we must speak of creative consciousness.
It seems to me that this psychology of the deeper life must be represented in the following way. We must abandon the idea that the soul can be compared to some- thing moving, which, obeying a more or less mechanical law, is impelled in the direction of certain given motive forces. To say that we are acting, implies that we are creating an imaginary world placed ahead of the present world and composed of movements which depend entirely on us. In this way our freedom becomes perfectly 1 Bergson, Time and Free Will, Eng. trans., pp. 231-232. In this philosophy a distinction is made between duration which flows, in which our personality manifests itself, and mathematical time, which science uses to measure and space out accomplished facts.
* Bergson, op. cit., Eng. trans., pp. 238-239.
LETTER TO DANIEL HALEVY 31 intelligible. Starting from a study of these artificial constructions which embrace everything that interests us, several philosophers, inspired by Bergsonian doctrines, have been led to formulate a rather starthng theory. Edouard Le Roy, for example, says: *' Our real body is the entire universe in as far as it is experienced by us. And what common sense more strictly calls our body is only the region of least unconsciousness and greatest liberty in this greater body, the part which we most directly control and by means of which w^e are able to act on the rest." ^ But we must not, as this subtle philosopher constantly does, confuse a passing state of our willing activity with the stable affirmations of science.* These artificial worlds generally disappear from our minds without leaving any trace in our memory; but when the masses are deeply moved it then becomes possible to trace the outlines of the kind of representation which constitutes a social myth.
This belief in " glory" which Renan praised so much quickly fades away into rhapsodies when it is not sup- ported by myths; these myths have varied greatly in different epochs: the citizen of the Greek republics, the Roman legionary, the soldier of the wars of Liberty, and the artist of the Renaissance did not picture their con- ception of glory by the help of the same set of images. Renan complained that " the faith in glory " is com- promised by the limited historical outlook more or less prevalent at, the present day. "Very few," he said, " act with a view to immortal fame...Every one wants to enjoy his own glory; they eat it in the green blade, and do not gather the sheaves after death." ^ In my opinion, this limited historical outlook is, on the contrary, ^ E. Le Roy, Dogme et critique, p. 239.
* It is easy to see here how the sophism creeps in; the universe experienced by us may be either the real world in which we live or the world invented by us for action.
* Renan, op. cit. vol. iv. p. 329.
32 REFLECTIONS ON VIOLENCE not a cause but a consequence; it results from the weaken- ing of the heroic myths which had such great popularity at the beginning of the nineteenth century; the belief in " glory " perished and a limited historic outlook became predominant at the time when these myths vanished.^ As long as there are no myths accepted by the masses, one may go on talking of revolts indefinitely, without ever provoking any revolutionary movement; this is what gives such importance to the general strike and renders it so odious to socialists who are afraid of a revolution; they do all they can to shake the confidence felt by the workers in the preparations they are making for the revolution; and in order to succeed in this they cast ridicule on the idea of the general strike — the only idea that could have any value as a motive force. One of the chief means employed by them is to represent it, as a Utopia; this is easy enough, because there are very few myths which are perfectly free from any Utopian element.
The revolutionary myths which exist at the present time are almost free from any such mixture; by means of them it is possible to understand the activity, the feelings and the ideas of the masses preparing themselves ^ to enter on a decisive struggle; the myths are not descrip- ' tions of things, but expressions of a determination to act. A Utopia is, on the contrary, an intellectual product; ^ " Assent," said Newman, " however strong, and accorded to images however vivid, is not therefore necessarily practical. Strictly speaking, it is not imagination that causes action; but hope and fear, likes and dislikes, appetite, passion, affection, the stirrings of selfishness and self-love. What imagination does for us is to find a means of stimulating those motive powers; and it does so by providing a supply of objects strong enough to stimulate them " {pp. cit. p. 82). It may be seen from this that the illustrious thinker adopts an attitude which strongly resembles that of the theory of myths. It is impossible to read Newman without being struck by the analogies between his thought and that of Bergson: people who Hke to make the history of ideas depend on ethnical traditions will observe that Newman was descended from Israelites.
LETTER TO DANIEL HA LEVY 33 it is the work of theorists who, after observing and dis- cussing the known facts, seek to establish a model to which they can compare existing society in order to estimate the amount of good and evil it contains.^ It is a combination of imaginary institutions having sufficient analogies to real institutions for the jurist to be able to reason about them; it is a construction which can be taken to pieces, and certain parts of it have been shaped in such a way that they can (with a few alterations by way of adjustment) be fitted into approaching legislation. Whilst contemporary myths lead men to prepare them- selves for a combat which will destroy the existing state of things, the effect of Utopias has always been to direct men's minds towards reforms which can be brought about by patching up the existing system; it is not surprising, then, that so many makers of Utopias were able to develop into able statesmen when they had acquired a greater experience of political life. A myth cannot be refuted, since it is, at bottom, identical with the convictions of a group, being the expression of these convictions in the language of movement; and it is, in consequence, unanalysable into parts which could be placed on the plane of historical descriptions. A Utopia, on the contrary, can be discussed like any other social constitution; the spontaneous movements it presupposes can be compared with the movements actually observed in the course of history, and we can in this way evaluate its verisimilitude; it is possible to refute Utopias by showing that the economic system on which they have been made to rest is incompatible with the necessary conditions of'modem production.
Liberal political economy is one of the best examples of a Utopia that could be given. A state of society * It was evidently a method of this kind that was adopted by those Greek philosophers who wished to be able to argue about ethics without being obliged to accept the customs which historical necessity had imposed at Athens.
w 34 REFLECTIONS ON VIOLENCE was imagined which could contain only the types pro- duced by commerce, and which would exist under the law of the fullest competition; it is recognised to-day that this kind of ideal society would be as difficult to realise as that of Plato; but several great statesmen of modem times have owed their fame to the efforts they made to introduce something of this ideal of commercial liberty into industrial legislation.
We have here a Utopia free from any mixture of myth; the history of French democracy, however, presents a very remarkable combination of Utopias and myths. The theories that inspired the authors of our first constitutions are regarded to-day as extremely chimerical; indeed, people are often loth to concede them the value which they have been so long recognised to possess — that of an ideal on which legislators, magistrates, and admini- strators should constantly fix their eyes, in order to secure for men a little more justice. With these Utopias were mixed up the myths which represented the struggle against the ancient regime; so long as the myths survived, all the refutations of liberal Utopias could produce no result; the myth safeguarded the Utopia with which it was mixed.
For a long time Socialism was scarcely anything but a Utopia; the Marxists were right in claiming for their master the honour of bringing about a change in this state of things; Socialism has now become the preparation of the masses employed in great industries for the suppression of the State and property; and it is no longer necessary, therefore, to discuss how men must organise themselves in order to enjoy future happiness; everything is reduced to the revolutionary apprentice- ship of the proletariat. Unfortunately Marx was not acquainted with facts which have now become familiar to us; we know better than he did what strikes are, because we have been able to observe economic conflicts LETTER TO DANIEL HALEVY 35 of considerable extent and duration; the myth of the " general strike " has become popular, and is now firmly established in the minds of the workers; we possess ideas about violence that it would have been difficult for him to have formed; we can then complete his \ doctrine, instead of making commentaries on his text, \ as his unfortunate disciples have done for so long. ^ In this way Utopias tend to disappear completely I from Socialism; Socialism has no longer any need to \ concern itself with the organisation of industry since capitalism does that. I think, moreover, that I have shown that the general strike corresponds to a kind of feeling which is so closely related to those which are necessary to promote production in any very progressive state of industry, that a revolutionary apprenticeship may at the same time be considered as an apprentice- ship which will enable the workmen to occupy a high rank among the best workmen of his own trade. \ People who are living in this world of " myths," are secure from all refutation; this has led many to assert that Socialism is a kind of religion. For a long time people have been struck by the fact that religious con- victions are unaffected by criticism, and from that they have concluded that everything which claims to be beyond science must be a religion. It has been observed also that Christianity tends at the present day to be less a system of dogmas than a Christian life, i.e. a moral reform penetrating to the roots of one's being; conse- quently, a new analogy has been discovered between religion and the revolutionary Socialism which aims at the apprenticeship, preparation, and even reconstruc- tion of the individual, — a gigantic task. But Bergson has taught us that it is not only religion which occupies the profounder region of our mental life; revolutionary myths have their place there equally with religion. The arguments which Yves Guyot urges against Socialism on j6 REFLECTIONS ON VIOLENCE the ground that it is a religion, seem to me, then, to be founded on an imperfect acquaintance with the new psychology.
Renan was very sutprised to discover that Socialists are beyond discouragement. " After each abortive experi- ment they recommence their work: the solution is not yet found, but it will be. The idea that no solution exists never occurs to them, and in this lies their strength." ^ The explanation given by Renan is superficial; it regards Socialism as a Utopia, that is, as a thing which can be compared to observed realities; if this were true, it would be scarcely possible to understand how confidence can survive so many failures. But by the side of the Utopias there have always been myths capable of urging on the workers to revolt. For a long time these myths were founded on the legends of the Revolution, and they pre- served all their value as long as these legends remained unshaken. To-day the confidence of the Socialists is greater than ever since the myth of the general strike dominates all the truly working-class movement. No failure proves anything against Socialism since the latter has become a work of preparation (for revolution); if they are checked, it merely proves that the apprentice- ship has been insufficient; they must set to work again with more courage, persistence, and confidence than before; their experience of labour has taught workmen that it is by means of patient apprenticeship that a man may become a true comrade, and it is also the only way of becoming a true revolutionary. ^ 1 Renan, op. cit. vol. iii. p. 497.
* It is extremely important to notice the analogy between the revolutionary state of mind and that which corresponds to the morale of the producers, I have indicated some remarkable resemblances at the end of these reflections, but there are many more analogies to be pointed out.
LETTER TO DANIEL HALEVY 37 The works of my friends have been treated with great contempt by the Socialists who mix in poHtics, but at the same time with much sympathy by people who do not concern themselves with parHamentary affairs. We cannot be suspected of seeking to carry on a kind of intellectual industry, and we protest every time people profess to confuse us with the intellectuals, who do, as a matter of fact, make the exploitation of thought their profession. The old stagers of democracy cannot under- stand why people should take so much trouble unless they secretly aim at the leadership of the working classes. However, we could not act in any other way.
The man who has constructed a Utopia designed to make mankind happy is inclined to look upon the invention as his own personal property; he believes that no one is in a better position than he is to apply his system. He thinks it very unreasonable that his writings do not procure him some post in the government. But we, on the contrary, have invented nothing at all, and even assert that nothing can be invented; we have limited ourselves to defining the historical bearing of the notion of a general strike. We have tried to show that a new culture might spring from the struggle of the revolutionary trades unions against the employers and the State; our greatest claim to originality consists in our having maintained that the proletariat can emanci- pate itself without being compelled to seek the guidance of that section of the middle classes which concerns itself professionally with matters of the intellect. We have thus been led to regard as essential in contemporary phenomena what was before regarded as accessory, and what is indeed really educative for a revolutionary 3S REFLECTIONS ON V OLENCE proletariat that is serving its apprenticeship in struggle. It would be impossible for us to exercise any direct influence on such a work of formation.
We may play a useful part if we limit ourselves to attacking middle-class thought in such a way as to put the proletariat on its guard against an invasion of ideas and customs from the hostile class.
Men who have received an elementary education are generally imbued with a certain reverence for print as such, and they readily attribute genius to the people who attract the attention of the literary world to any great extent; they imagine that they must have a great deal to learn from authors whose names are so often mentioned with praise in the newspapers; they listen with singular respect to the commentaries that these literary prize- winners present to them. It is not easy to fight against these prejudices, but it is a very useful work; we regard this task as being absolutely of the first importance, and we can carry it to a profitable conclusion without ever attempting to direct the working-class movement. The proletariat must be preserved from the experience of the Germans who conquered the Roman Empire; the latter were ashamed of being barbarians, and put themselves to school with the rhetoricians of the Latin decadence; they had no reason to congratulate themselves for having wished to be civiUsed.
In the course of my career I have touclied on many subjects which might be considered to be outside the proper range of a SociaUst writer. I have endeavoured to show that the science whose marvellous results the middle class constantly boasts of is not as infallible as those who live by its exploitation would have us believe; and that a study of the phenomena of the Socialist world would often furnish philosophers with an enlightenment which they do not find in the works of the learned. I do not believe, then, that I am labouring in vain, for in this LETTER TO DANIEL HALEVY jg way I help to ruin the prestige of middle-class culture, a prestige which up to now has been opposed to the complete development of the principle of the " class war."
In the last chapter of my book, I have said that art is an anticipation of the kind of work that ought to be carried on in a highly productive state of society. It seems that this observation has been very much misunderstood by some of my critics, who have been imder the impression that I ^\dshed to propose as the socialist solution — an aesthetic education of the proletariat under the tutelage of modem artists. This would have been a singular paradox on my part, for the art that we possess to-day is a residue left to us by an aristocratic society, a residue which has, moreover, been greatly corrupted by the middle class. According to the most enlightened minds, it is greatly to be desired that contemporary art could renew itself by a more intimate contact with craftsmen; academic art has used up the greatest geniuses without succeeding in producing anything which equals what has been given us by generations of craftsmen. I had in view something altogether different from such an imitation when I spoke of cin anticipation. I wished to show how one found in art (practised by its best representatives, and, above all, in its best periods) analogies which make it easier for us to imderstand what the qualities of the workers of the future would be. Moreover, so Uttle did I think of asking the Ecole des Beaux- Arts to provide a teaching suitable to the proletariat, that I based the morale of the producers not on an aesthetic education transmitted by the middle class, but on the feelings developed by the struggles of the workers against their masters.
These observations lead us to recognise the enormous difference which exists between the new school and the anarchism which flourished twenty years ago in Paris. The middle class itself had much less admiration for its D 40 REFLECTIONS ON VIOLENCE literary men and its artists than the anarchists of that time felt for them; their enthusiasm for the celebrities of a day often surpassed that felt by disciples for the greatest masters of the past. We need not then be astonished that by a kind of compensation the novelists and the poets thus adulated have shown a sympathy for the anarchists which has often astonished people who do not know what a force vanity is in the artistic world.
Intellectually, then, this kind of anarchism was entirely middle class, and the Guesdistes attacked it for this reason. They said that their adversaries, while proclaiming them- selves the irreconcilable enemies of the past, were them- selves the servile pupils of this cursed past; they observed, moreover, that the most eloquent dissertations on revolt could produce nothing, and that Hterature cannot change the course of history. The anarchists replied by showing that their adversaries had entered on a road which could not lead to the revolution they announced; by taking part in poHtical debates, Socialists, they said, will become merely reformers of a more or less radical type, and will lose the sense of their revolutionary formulas. Experience has quickly shown that the anarchists were right in this view, and that in entering into middle-class institutions, revolutionaries have been transformed by adopting the spirit of these institutions. All the deputies agree that there is very little difference between a middle- class representative and a representative of the pro- letariat.
Many anarchists, tired at last of continually reading the same grandiloquent maledictions hurled at the capitalist system, set themselves to find a way which would lead them to acts which were really revolutionary. They became members of syndicates which, thanks to violent strikes, reahsed, to a certain extent, the social war they had so often heard spoken of. Historians will one LETTER TO DANIEL f/ALEVY 41 day see in this entry of the anarchists into the syndicates one of the greatest events that has been produced in our time, and then the name of my poor friend Femand Pelloutier will be as well known as it deserves to be.i The anarchist writers who remained faithful to their former revolutionary literature do not seem to have looked with much favour upon the passage of their friends into the syndicates; their attitude proves that the anarchists who became syndicalists showed real originality, and had not merely appUed theories which had been fabricated in philosophical coteries.
Above all, they taught the workers that they need not be ashamed of acts of violence. Till that time it had been usual in the Socialist worid to attenuate or to excuse the violence of the strikers; the new members of the syndicates regarded these acts of violence as normal manifestations of the struggle, and as a result of this, the tendencies at work in the syndicates, pushing them towards trades unionism, were abandoned. It was their revolutionary temperament which led them to this con- ception of violence, for it would be a gross error to suppose that these former anarchists carried over into the workers' associations any of their ideas about propaganda by deed.
Revolutionary syndicaUsm is not then, as many believe, the first confused form of the working-class move- ment, which is bound, in the end, to free itself from this youthfi4 error; it has been, on the contrary, the produce of an improvement brought about by men who had just arrested a threatened deviation towards middle -class ideas. It might be compared to the Reformation, which wished to prevent Christianity submitting to the influence » I believe that L6on de Seilhac was the first to render justice to the high qualities of Fernand Pelloutier {Les Congres ouvriers en France, 42 REFLECTIONS ON VIOLENCE