This post is a compilation of a 6 part series published by author Daniel Hawkins on http://www.notbeinggoverned.com/ called Never Been Tried.
My thanks to http://joseywales1965.wordpress.com whose site I found this series on.
Part I: Moresnet
“Anarchy sounds great and all, but it’s never been tried,” Shawn said smugly.
I stammered, reluctantly acknowledging his point. After the fourth debate with my former teacher, defeat was in the air again. It seemed that no matter how many solutions I put forward, I met the same roadblock. Even to me, he sounded logical. Would I drive a car without knowing if it worked? Would I trust my life to a surgeon on his or her first day? Really, how could we expect a world power like America—let alone the whole globe—to transition to a new social system without some evidence to show that it could work?
Of course, we know that the State is too greedy and violent for us to wait around for abolition. We know that everyone practices Anarchism from the comfort of their own home, and that the principles can be applied on any scale. But, explaining this to a government employee, let alone the average person, can be a little difficult when both parties know there hasn’t been a single country that has gone without a government.
Or has there?
Being a nerd for history, Shawn’s point was infuriating. After smashing my keyboard a few times, I thought I should use it for its intended purpose, and I did some research. Actually, it wasn’t very long before I found a wealth of sources on academia’s biggest secret: not only has Anarchism been tried, but it is the most successful system to date.
The Europe That Never Was
If you’re like most people, history class was like a mallet to the head, and brought only pain and occasional periods of unconsciousness or semi-consciousness in the form of sleep. I don’t blame you. But, for those who really want to stick it to Statists, brush those cobwebs from your brain and go back with me all the way to 1815. Yes, it was a long time ago—no TV, no cars, not even electric power. But on the scale of time, it might as well have been yesterday.
Napoleon had just gone from being king of the world to king of an island. The remaining powers—the Congress of Vienna—were redrawing the borders. The Balance of Power theory dictated that the audacious French had to be restrained. To do that, the mustachioed, monocled emperors set up a DMZ between the Netherlands and Prussia. Not only would “the Triangle,” as they called it, ward off further war, but it housed a very important zinc mine that the empires could share. The area was called Neutral Moresnet. If you’ve never heard of it, don’t worry. I have a feeling that might have happened on purpose.
Moresnet began with a population of only about 250 miners living between the Triangle and their respective homelands. Aside from its economic benefit, the territory went largely unnoticed. It saw the creation of neighboring Belgium in 1830, as well as a rash of bloody revolutions around Europe in 1848. With no one to rule it, those who lived in Moresnet did so rather anonymously.
Unfortunately, Moresnet couldn’t stay a secret forever. Amid the growing fervor of Imperialism and Nationalism, people began to hear of a land with no tariffs, low taxes, no war, one court, and only a handful of government officials.
It was Galt’s Gulch on the North Sea.
By 1850, the population had doubled, bringing in businesses, farms, and infrastructure. Between 1850 and 1860, the population quadrupled. Moresnet had turned into a Wild West boom-town (but with less shoot-outs, I assume). The German Empire and Belgium attempted to assert their dominance in the region by shutting down a private postal service and a casino, but could not thwart the independent spirit of the Moresnettians. As their few government officials retired, stability in the nation continued. A small competing court system sprang up (more on that in Part Two), and taxes dropped to zero. Even when the mine dried up in the 1880s, the residents had little to fear. Strangely enough, Moresnet saw even more prosperity.
Immigrants who learned of a country free of bureaucracy and strife moved from places like Russia, America, and even China. One such newcomer was Dr. Wilhelm Molly, the town’s resident renaissance man and champion. After some medical and entrepreneurial adventures, Molly extended a hand to the anti-State Esperanto speakers. Their influence was so heavy that the residents changed the name from Moresnet to Amikejo (or “place of friendship”). Visitors and residents often remarked on the area’s bohemian yet modern atmosphere. At a population of about 4,000, Amikejans enjoyed an ease of life that contrasted sharply with their militarized, industrial neighbors. But the happy mistake that was Amikejo could not last forever. When the Great War came, the German Empire swept across Europe, taking the Triangle with it. As strangely as it had come into existence, Amikejo disappeared.
Though it was short-lived, we should not forget the legacy of the Triangle. For a time, people did manage to survive without a central authority. While Europe grew more imperious, Moresnet built a new society based on free trade and liberty. In its defiance of the norm, Amikejo could have served as a blueprint for the new Europe.
“That’s all well,” the skeptic might say, “but Moresnet doesn’t exist anymore. It might have been fairly recent, but it only lasted for about 100 years. For all we know, it was a fluke. There was a population smaller than most American towns, and there was already the Napoleonic Code to set up a precedent for the rule of law. How can something like that work today? How can Anarchism support a modern population at our standard of living?”
I confess that I was wondering that myself. Moresnet was captivating, but it was by no means proof positive. There had to be other evidence. There had to be something that lasted longer and operated on a larger scale. So, in the next installment of “Never Been Tried?” we’ll go back even further, to a place that should be a little more familiar: Ireland.
Part II: Emerald Anarchy
When you think of Ireland, what comes to mind? Shamrocks? Guinness? How about anarchy?
Maybe you’ve learned about old Eire, but most of us don’t hear anything beyond the Potato Famine or the War of Independence. Not to say that these weren’t important events, but it’s frustrating to see that yet again, anarchy is forgotten by history, despite its amazing success. The particular form of Anarchism that thrived there was one that still baffles many today: Brehon Law.
“Law?” says our familiar skeptic, “Isn’t ‘law’ the opposite of Anarchism?”
As in part I of this series, the answer is yes and no. As many Anarchists like to say, “’Anarchy’ doesn’t mean ‘no rules,’ it means ‘no rulers.’” Brehon was a type of Polycentric Law. To those unfamiliar with the term, Polycentric Law is based upon the idea that sometimes people will disagree, but that doesn’t mean the State should have a monopoly on justice. Instead, competing “courts” arbitrate disputes. The rulings are compensatory—meaning that instead of chopping off a thief’s hand or throwing him in a pit of snakes, he simply has to pay some value for the stolen goods. So, instead of laws (as we think of them) these courts follow rules or principles – values put forward by society and the market (e.g., “stealing is bad,” “killing is also bad”). Still sound a bit fuzzy, or even insane? I hope the brilliant and beautiful Ireland will shed some light.
Centuries ago, the Celts inhabited the Emerald Isle. Of their various customs, the Celts prized property, reputation, and freedom. It would be dishonest to say that ancient Irish society wasn’t hierarchical or primitive. It was. But, it was their hand-to-mouth existence and their rituals that, like most tribes, kept Celtic communities together. A patchwork of clans and provinces, Irish society managed to elevate every individual to a level where society worked like a well-oiled machine. From its inception, Ireland was unique. Though its history is steeped in blood, beneath that kettle burns a fire of liberty that no power has ever managed to put out.
It’s worth noting that the Romans never invaded Ireland. This meant that unlike the other conquered nations, the Irish were never taxed by Rome, militarized by Rome, or—most importantly—subject to Rome’s complex penal codes. Though historians ignorantly assume that non-Roman “barbarians” were…well, barbaric, this is a half-truth. The very ideas of the Irish were completely different from their neighbors. I personally think that the ability to solve social problems without relying on a violent and larcenous monopoly is a miraculous advancement.
When two parties in Ireland had a dispute, they would just take it to their local Brehon. The Brehons were educated elders who acted as judges. But, unlike judges, Brehons didn’t expand on the law or impose sentences. Instead, they interpreted and preserved the traditions. The exact laws that the Brehons passed down were changed, written, and re-written as time went on, so historians still debate on specifics. But, what we do know is that Ireland was surprisingly progressive. Capital punishment was non-existent. Women could divorce and were entitled to a portion of the estate. Nobles held the same legal status as shepherds. Even the courts were impartial. When a Brehon delivered an unjust ruling, it was not uncommon for him to forfeit his fees and other wealth, and in these cases, he would lose his standing within the community. If an agreement could not be reached, the opposing parties would bring their case on appeal to another Brehon. While participating in the process, the parties would also attempt to mediate outside of court, as they do today. Though Hollywood likes depicting barbarians as simplistic cavemen, equity was an ideal that the Irish held very dear. And, while it may confuse people today, this was all done without any government officials of any kind.
“But,” we hear the skeptic yet again, “after the Brehons passed a ruling, who enforced it? What kept some thief or killer from just refusing?”
This is a fair question. From my first reading of Polycentric theory, I asked the same thing. It seems simple, but the answer is more complex.
While many libertarians advocate for private enforcement agencies (which, I have to say, I also advocate for), Ireland didn’t have them. To see how law was enforced, we have to take a few things into account: First, while the Irish generally operated a free market, there was little room for complex pricing mechanisms or insurance agencies. Secondly, the community was the heart of Irish life. Thus, we see enforcement being a social responsibility. If a guilty man refused to give restitution, he was cast out by the community – an exercise of their right to free association. On the occasion that he was even permitted to live within a village, the people would not give shelter to him, and certainly wouldn’t trade with him. The man would then be faced with paying up, finding another Brehon to go to, or living alone in the wilderness. If a non-payer still insisted on living at home, the victim would starve himself/herself publicly (probably originating the hunger strike). If an accused party believed he or she was innocent, there were a number of avenues to appeal to the community and to the courts. Though compassion was important to the Irish, to continually aid a non-payer was not taken lightly. To do so would be to tarnish one’s honor and reputation by giving blessing to wrongdoing. While we may never know the exact methods and accounts of every dispute, we can still see that even without police to speak of, the Irish got along fine.
Even after the introduction of Catholicism, Brehon survived. When the Roman Empire fell, Brehon survived. Even through war after war with neighboring England, Brehon survived. The innovative, free-spirited Irish continued to cope with changes while preserving their anarchic traditions. It wasn’t until the English finally conquered the island in the 1600s that Brehon was finally abolished.
“Ha! I knew it! It failed. The power of monarchy trumped ‘Polycentric Law,’ and their system fell. Yeah, it sounded like it worked for a while, but who’s to say that’s proof? How do we know Ireland wasn’t just an isolated incident?”
Well, Skeptic, again, you are mostly correct. Brehon fell at the hands of a bloodthirsty empire with the tools of taxes and indoctrination. But, is that to say Brehon can’t work? If the Irish did it, why not try it? It wasn’t a static system, frozen in time. If anything, Brehon should be noted for its ability to adapt to people’s needs. It fostered cooperation andcompetition, compassion and justice, community and individual. For people who want to escape the vicious and corrupt Police State, this is one of many solutions.
If you’re still not convinced, don’t worry, there’s more. Polycentric Law didn’t end with the Celts. More alternatives to the violent monopoly known as the State can be found far away—across oceans and deserts—where two unlike societies challenged authority: Iceland and Africa.
Part III: Fire and Ice
There is a dichotomy that I’ve had on my mind lately. It’s one that’s been ever-present in metaphysics and mysticism since people have been around: the worlds of fire and ice. It’s in several creation myths. It’s the subject of a great poem by Robert Frost. It’s a primal juxtaposition, the classic example of opposites. We usually think that separate spheres, separate worlds, cannot and should not coexist or overlap. Similarly, we sometimes think that differing cultures usually do not have overlapping ideas, and if they did, those ideas would only be coincidental.
But, according to anthropological and historical evidence, there are far fewer “opposites” in the world than we thought. Particularly, I refer to the Horn of Africa and Iceland. You might think them unlikely cousins, what with one being home to hardy, pale Aryans and the other to equatorial African Muslims, but these two places, these lands of fire and ice, have much more in common than we thought.
As I discussed in the last installment of this series, Polycentric Law was a rather successful social organization in Ireland, (for those unfamiliar with the term, see:http://www.daviddfriedman.com/The_Machinery_of_Freedom_.pdf andhttp://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Polycentric_law). The discussion about Ireland and its Brehon system may have left a lot of readers wondering if and how another society could replicate its success. Well, it’s really common sense to assume that when there is no State to speak of, there are a few inevitable disputes here and there, and that there must be some way to peacefully settle them. A system of competing judges and claims courts could, theoretically, handle any dispute involving natural law while at the same time having the wiggle room to accommodate for changing societal values. It’s really no surprise, either. When similar conditions apply, similar solutions are put forward. For example, ancient bows and arrows—useful for long-range hunting and combat—can be found on multiple continents where people had no way of contacting each other. Certain TV personalities might say that aliens came and gave everyone the same idea, but there’s actually a more plausible explanation: it was just efficient and necessary. The State, we know, is neither. Enter these two remarkable places, where, in the absence of a violent and coercive behemoth called the State, forged something beautiful.
Norway was changing fast in the 10th century. Up until then, it mostly resembled Greece. Direct democracy was the system used by Norwegian men and women who lived in a patchwork of petty kingdoms. Each state had an Earl, usually a wealthy aristocratic warlord who presided over a general assembly, where people from the area could come to discuss any (presumably pasty) issues and disputes of the day. Unfortunately, Earl Harald Fairhair grew ambitious and sought to unify these states under his banner of a unified Norway. While some saw his actions as an attempt to genuinely bring people together for common defense and peace, others viewed it as a brash, tyrannical power-grab. So, like many groups before and after them, the people who wanted freedom left their homes, sailing for a recently-discovered island to the west: Iceland.
The new settlers brought their traditions with them, as did other Irish settlers not long after. It’s still debated among academics about what exactly happened to create the new social order known as Godhordh. Some (more Statist) thinkers claim a group of warlords/chieftains banded together to create a new general assembly, like an ancient congress, that would lay the foundation for Iceland’s modern democracy. Others, like David Friedman and Roderick T. Long, contest that narrative and instead posit, with ample evidence, that Iceland was an anarchic paradise.
Like its landscape, Iceland’s political climate was bare, but beneath the surface, change was coming. There were no Earls or kings, no seat of power. But, unlike a certain group of fictional schoolboys, the inhabitants didn’t kill each other and burn everything to the ground. It’s surprising, but it was in their best interests to just get along. For one thing, the women of the time were relatively respected. This was likely a carry-over from Norway and Ireland, where women owned property, divorced their husbands, and fought in combat. And then there’s the fact that private property was sacred, as was reputation. Anyone who breached either was in immediate danger of shunning by his or her community as well as a lawsuit. The judges who oversaw these trials were called Godhars. While some say they were chieftains, they were more likely just elders who memorized social codes and passed them on to their families via oral tradition. Together with other officials, these men formed the Godhordh system. Godhars were not like the average judge. A Godhar could sell his position as judge (a scenario that might give nightmares to many), but the position also hinged on being able to gather enough supporters to keep his job.
This brings us to our next topic: in this system, there was no monopoly on justice. Not only were these seats temporary, private positions, but in sharp contrast to every other country (including Norway), there was no geographical monopoly. This created a competitive environment. Parties involved in a dispute could go to argue their claims in court, only after paying a fee to a judge (sometimes appointed by a Godhar). If one party couldn’t win a case, he had the option of appeal, going to a competing court, or finding someone with more money to protect him. This may seem like a radical and greedy system to some, but there were several checks and balances built in. In order for a judge to maintain credibility, he had to make sure the community saw him as a just and equitable man. Likewise, for a party to earn the support of moneyed folks to represent them, the party had to make sure his or her case held water, or else the reputations of his entire side were in jeopardy. So, logically, there was a explosion of firms that acted as both insurance and security companies (sound familiar, An-Caps?). So, as with Ireland, we see the maintenance of order as both an economic and social act, born out of voluntary cooperation.
Some academics are irritated by Iceland’s competitive justice system. The Icelandic sagas even seem to be a chronicle of a wild, feuding society. But, we find that these feuds, on a larger scale of time, were few and far between, and when they did occur, they had very low casualties. Many sagas are actually about lawyers and farmers—the people who made up the backbone of Icelandic society—not like the pillaging Vikings across the sea. Not only did the fierce competition between courts and defense companies make it impossible for armies to be amassed, but feuds were almost always contained to families who just disliked each other. The farms and villages that subscribed to competing companies and Godhars were built alongside each other, pressuring each other to be peaceful. The result was a people who relied on trade and cooperation as opposed to theft and imprisonment. It worked for the better part of 300 years. Thought it didn’t live as long as other Anarchist societies (most of which we will discuss in future articles), the society known as the Icelandic Commonwealth survived much longer than most States. It met its untimely demise at the hands of a matured Kingdom of Norway in 1262.
6,000 miles away, something else was happening in the hills and savannas of Africa. Some historians place it around the 7th century, some before, and others still place it a millennium earlier. It was a voluntary, polycentric system that began in present-day Somalia, that today is called Xeer.
Yes, I know, I said the S-word. One could go into diatribes and dissertations about how misinformed the public is about Somalian politics and history (and how it’s really not an anarchic country), but unfortunately, there’s not much time or room here. What we do know is that at some point, Xeer (pronounced “hear”) was formed, and that it’s still very much alive today.
The structure resembles Godhordh in that there are judges, jurists, lawyers, detectives, and enforcers. Don’t let those titles fool you, Xeer is definitely private and definitely stateless. There are no uniforms, no licenses, and no offices. In fact, court cases are almost always held under the nearest acacia tree, where the people lay out mats and discuss the case. To make sure each party can pay, most communities urge every person to carry some manner of insurance before taking a case to court. This system is still practiced every day across Somalia (particularly in the north and west), and despite the war and poverty that have torn the nation apart, one can’t help but notice how little it’s changed.
There are a few opinions on how old Xeer is, exactly. Some say it predates Islam, while others say it followed, and others still say Xeer may have been the basis for a trade empire (using “empire” loosely) that spanned the continent. Regardless, we can conclude with solid evidence a few interesting things. Before there was even a Somali people, the tribes recognized Xeer. While Islam is also a unifying factor in Somalia, the introduction of it via both peaceful and aggressive missionaries did little to change the customs of Xeer. And, lastly, Xeer traditions are held even above Islamic law, for not only does it take precedent in cases where Xeer and Islam conflict, but in almost every case, someone who holds a position like a judge or detective cannot be involved in the clergy at all. Incredibly, people have managed to self-regulate their private law system without it devolving into some kind of dystopian film.
Aside from religion, Xeer takes a sharp digression from politics as well. Before the invasion by European powers around the year 1900, Somalia had never known a government. This is pretty interesting information, considering that there were several empires surrounding Somalia for centuries. But, eventually, the defenses of the tribes couldn’t stand up to the industrial might of the West. Britain and Italy both exerted heavy pressure on the population to adhere to written laws and costumed dictators. It was arguably these Europeans that, through a series of laws and codes, actually promoted Sharia in official courts, thus paving a road for the Islamic Courts Union.
Today, we see a similar situation, where Western powers and radical Islam rage over who will rule Somalia. It was the introduction of government itself that even made these wars possible. Archaeologists have yet to find any evidence of broad conflict prior to colonization. Recently, Somalia was ranked as the world’s most violent country. Some (again, more Statist) political analysts blame it on the weakness of Xeer. But is peace the same as weakness? How could Xeer last so long if it were weak? How come, even during colonization, Xeer was so popular that it was integrated into official laws? How come Xeer, a seemingly disorganized, decentralized, archaic, off-the-cuff social organization, has resisted the Leviathan?
The answer lies in one truth: people want freedom. Polycentric Law seems, at first glance, much too complex and organized to be real anarchy. But that’s exactly what anarchy is—anarchy is responsibility. Anarchy is social codes instead of prisons and police. Anarchy is organization instead of chaos. Is there any better definition of chaos than the poverty and violence created by the State? Is there any better definition of order than the peace caused by free trade and social cooperation? This is simultaneous invention. This is spontaneous order. What more evidence is there that anarchy is man’s natural state? What more evidence is there that anarchy is amazing?
Now, all we can do is hope that Somalia looks to Iceland. If we use history as our guide, we can understand how best to face the future. There are many places left to talk about, and I hope to show you—whether you’re a skeptic who has yet to be convinced of Anarchism’s merits, or a long-time supporter who’s just looking for more evidence—that anarchy can be realized, even today.
Part IV: In The Beginning
What is government?
What is society?
How are the two connected?
These questions have been the subject of debate for centuries. And, really, if you’ve ever been in any sort of political debate—from debate about a local zoning law to one about a federal healthcare law—these three questions form the foundation of what we call “politics.” Of course, if you’re like most people, then you probably don’t directly ask yourself about these three questions or their implications in your daily life. When at a city council meeting or watching the news, the average person doesn’t think about the links between policies and taxation, police-power, and markets. But, I assure you, the links are real.
To really understand why things are the way they are, you have to examine how they got there. In other words, look at history. Consummate political thinkers like Plato, Niccolo Machiavelli, John Locke, and Ann Coulter have all pondered the philosophies surrounding governance. But, for all their differences, these people all believe one common thing:
Government is necessary.
There are a few reasons why they think this, and why the average person thinks this. There is a rationale, though, a set of ideas—no matter how false or evil—that prop up this system. Mainly, people see the functions which governments carry out (or are supposed to carry out), and think, “No one else can do that.”
Social welfare, parks, healthcare, schools, infrastructure, courts, firefighting, police, utilities, and national security are some public services that those who support the State (for those non-libertarians, that’s the “Statists” we always talk about) would not and cannot be handled by private business or charity.
And, heaven forbid, even if these things were to collapse tomorrow, Statists believe total chaos would ensue. Nobody would, you know, continue being a rational person. No one would use the market to solve these issues. Nope. It would be a road-less world of war-lords and robber-barons. That is, until the mighty hand of Government reaches down from the heavens to save us all from ourselves. “Because”, Statists say, “government is inevitable. Sooner or later, anarchy breaks down and there will need to be a government.”
Why?
Because we have been taught to think that society and government are inextricably linked. We have been taught that they are inter-dependent, like thunder and lightning. With society, it’s thought, there will always be deficiencies. There will always be burglars, murderers, arsonists, etc. to warrant a State-run justice system. There will always be wealth inequality to warrant a Welfare State. And so on, and so on, and so on. The need for mutual protection and aid, to Statists, brought primitive Man together to form something called the “Social Contract.” Thomas Hobbes and Jean-Jacques Rousseau wrote extensively on this theory. For some reason, instead of relying on things like voluntary trade, people apparently got together and said, “You know what we need? An all-powerful harbinger of poverty and death to tell us all how to live.”
But, unfortunately, these Social Contracts weren’t limited to the present parties. By virtue of our birth, we are evidently indebted to our holy protector, the State. Statists will not say this, of course, they will say we are indebted to society, but imply that the State is the vessel by which we owe others, hence the “we are the government” mantra. And, to them, we must deal with every pain and evil brought on by the State because “it’s necessary.”
But what if it’s not?
What if we can be different? What if it has been different?
Jericho
Nestled in the fertile Jordan River Valley, in present-day Palestine, on the outskirts of an urban area, there is what seems to be a pile of rubble whose importance cannot be overstated. This rubble is the remains of the city of Jericho. This city isn’t just important in the Abrahamic tradition. Jericho is actually the oldest city on Earth.
If you’re looking at the origins of society, there’s hardly a better place to look. And, rest assured, Jericho is a city of wonders. Biblical archaeologists and anthropologists have obsessed over this city ever since the first shard of pottery was discovered there. The city, they realized, actually has about 20 consecutive settlements built over each other. The original inhabitants can only be termed “geniuses.” These people drew the blueprints for all towns in the future. The most amazing thing, though, is that they all this with absolutely no government.
About 11,500 years ago, all humans were nomadic. Understandably, because most of the earth was frozen over, except for small areas where animals migrated. Eventually, though, some group of people found a temperate oasis with a nearby spring. Instead of leaving in the winter, the people found it most efficient to just stay there.
With straw, mud, and sunlight, the people in the camp developed the ability to create houses. It’s not certain, but these were probably the first free-standing permanent dwellings in history. They were round, one or two-story homes, with mud and thatch roofs, and with hearths inside and sometimes outside. Bodies (as in many other ancient cities) were often buried underneath the family’s house. This is disgusting, of course, but this was a time when people were still figuring out how build a town. The valley where Jericho sits is fairly fertile and enjoys pretty mild temperatures, but the areas surrounding their settlement received more rain. So, as evidence suggests, they built a series of irrigation canals. This allowed for the cultivation of domestic crops, which may have never been done before.
A wall was eventually erected as well as a mud-brick tower that sat inside of it. In most cases, archaeologists would be quick to label the wall and the tower as “defensive” structures, but even mainstream archeology has concluded that the tower was for religious purposes and the wall to prevent floodwaters from reaching it. This, according to experts, was an incredible feat, and would have taken at least 100 days to complete with the help of more than 100 people.
After about 800 years, the settlement had grown to about 2,000-3,000 people. Keep in mind, this was when the total human population was decidedly smaller and spread out. Later, a group of nomads came to Jericho. It is not clear from the evidence whether or not the two peoples went to war, but there is no definitive evidence that they did. In any case, these new people were absorbed into the already existent population. The new population developed painted pottery, and also apparently painted and decorated the skulls of their ancestors. These show the first real development of art. The city was built upon further and further, and there is no evidence of violence during this period.
Eventually, Jericho was abandoned. Some say it was after the conquering by the Israelites (though archaeological evidence of this is missing), and the Canaanites. After the Canaanites, Jericho was conquered by the Assyrians, the Babylonians, the Persians, the Judeans, the Greeks, the Romans, the Arabs, the Crusaders, the Ottomans, and more recently, the Jordanians.
Again, we see this beautifully vibrant, forward-thinking society decimated by places with governments. We really cannot discount the value of Jericho, though. This society, with absolutely no government, survived for about 9,000 years. Think about this. The average government survives for about 200-400 years. Jericho, before the decades of war and conquering, survived 30 times longer than that. That means there were about 360 generations of people born in the stateless city of Jericho. Not only is it one of the longest-lasting civilizations in history, but it was one of the most innovative. Crops, houses, walls, art—all these things were basically invented in Jericho. They were invented in a place with no government to regulate human behavior. There’s nothing certain about how exactly these people dealt with each other, but we do know that their society was one to be envied.
Çatalhöyük
Yes, to native English speakers, this name is hard to pronounce. I’ve been researching it for a couple of months now, and I still can’t pronounce it. But, trust me, this one’s important. Located in modern-day Turkey, near a twin set of volcanoes, the settlement of Çatalhöyük vies with Jericho for the oldest settlement on Earth.
Coincidentally, the settlers of Çatalhöyük not only traded with Jericho, but were probably the mysterious immigrants who brought painted skulls there. Obsidian tools have been found in Jericho, but they definitely originated in the volcanoes near Çatalhöyük. In exchange, the settlers took flint and sea shells from Jericho. But, before they were seasoned tradesmen, the settlers of Çatalhöyük were simple and smart nomads. Like Jericho, Çatalhöyük has several consecutive settlements built one on top of the other—about 18, actually—and they were just as innovative.
“But how do archaeologists know these places didn’t have governments?” asks the skeptic. “There can’t be any written records of an anarchist society 11,000 years before Christ.”
True, there is no written account of these places, so it’s impossible to have a first-hand account declaring that there was no government. But, researchers use the same techniques they do for any other civilization for locating evidence of government. Researchers look for public buildings, mainly. It seems simple, but for governments to function, they need offices. They need congregational areas, they need administrative centers, armories, treasuries, etc. They look for areas of concentrated weapons, areas of concentrated wealth, and for evidence of tributes to or worshiping of humans. Sometimes, they look for evidence of slavery. None of these things were ever found in Jericho, Çatalhöyük, or Harappa. In contrast, in the Chaldean, Assyrian, Persian, Syrian, Egyptian, and Babylonian civilizations (which are near the same age), all of these things are found. There was simply no plausible evidence that these three places were governed.
Another great clue for Çatalhöyük in favor of statelessness is the layout of the houses. To the average viewer, it would seem that the mud-brick and plaster houses were laid out willy-nilly. There was really very little room (if any) for walkways between. This is a pretty decent indication that there was little to no central planning of any kind in the community. Actually, the near 10,000 people probably walked around on top of the houses and entered through holes in the roof. Once through the holes, they would climb down ladders into the home. The homes were decorated with vibrant murals, and the inhabitants bought bright pottery and religious figurines from local artists. Like Jericho, the skulls of Çatalhöyük were painted to resemble the faces of the owners, so some historians deem this the first example of portraiture. One painting in a home of the nearby volcanoes is probably the first map/landscape painting. Eventually, the people even developed metal cooking utensils.
Like other early civilizations, the residents of Çatalhöyük were some of the first to try farming. Different cereals and legumes were the main crops, but these were still secondary to the more paleolithic practices of hunting and gathering. However, Çatalhöyük is usually noted among historians as the first area to practice the domestication of livestock. All of these feats were accomplished in Çatalhöyük, yet very few researchers mention that there is literally no evidence of a government there. If they do mention it, there is usually no more analysis of the effects of statelessness. I think we’re beginning to see a trend here, though. Like Jericho, Çatalhöyük survived for an inordinate amount of time—about 2,000 years, actually. This isn’t anywhere near the longevity of Jericho, but 2,000 years is still incredible. Consider what can happen in 2,000 years. 2,000 years ago, Christ was preaching in the Levant. 2,000 years ago, Ovid was writing the Metamorphoses. A lot can happen in that time, and in southern Turkey, it did. It did so—I will say this again—without government.
Harappa
Harappa is the most investigated and most discussed society of the three in this article. And, though it is the last, it is certainly not least. Located in modern-day Pakistan, Harappa is considered by many to be the home to the Indus River Valley civilization, and to civilization itself.
Harappa lays claim to many achievements. For example, researchers have found some sort of writing all over Harappa, which likely predates Cuneiform and Phoenician (for those readers out there who have lives, think Stone Age chicken scratch). As for the overall layout of Harappa, it’s fairly similar to Jericho and Çatalhöyük. There are very basic, mud-brick houses, with the dead usually buried beneath the floors. There is evidence of farming and ranching. Any fortifications were likely to protect against monsoon waters, and there is no evidence of war or slavery. There are no notable religious or administrative buildings, definitely no treasuries, and no real signs of a stratified socioeconomic hierarchy.
What’s really unique about Harappa, though, is its organization. In stark contrast to Çatalhöyük, there are actually roads. Not only are there roads, but the area is laid out in an almost grid-like pattern. In the cities there is (get this) municipal drainage. That’s right, there is definitive evidence of public services being provided without a government. Stop the presses. Scholars note a sense of uniformity throughout the cities which make up Harappa. On top of the uniform writing system, there is a system of uniform weights and measurements used by traders and merchants. The religious figurines and children’s toys—though they do no indicate an organized, collectively recognized cult—indicate a sort of cultural homogeneity. It was Spontaneous Order played out in real life.
Not only did this work, but it made the civilization flourish. There is more than enough evidence to indicate that the Harappans traded with everyone they could. Namely, they traded with their neighbors to the West, the Mesopotamians. Though the Mesopotamians were Statists, the Harappans were not. The Harappan society was so advanced, in fact, that there were several families or companies that traded in and outside of Harappa, as far as Indonesia and Egypt. Each family or company used a unique seal with a logo on it. And, no matter what RBE advocates say, these early Neolithic people did use money. The really interesting thing is that in contrast with sites in France, for example, there is no uniform coinage in Harappa. That means that there was no central bank (which we still haven’t figured out how to do yet).
Scholars have assumed that the Mesopotamians had the advantage in trade (what with being a slave empire and all). But, upon further examination of Harappa’s raw materials, their transportation methods, and their rate of expansion, it’s pretty easy to say that it could have been the Harappans who were doing a favor for the Mesopotamians by trading with them.
Harappa was by far more advanced than Jericho or Çatalhöyük, but they all had very much in common. After a beautiful run of 3,000 years, Harappa vanished. The reasons for Harappa’s decline are murky. In all likelihood, we can chalk its fall up to bad luck. As the world transitioned away from the last Ice Age and more to what we see today, the monsoons around India grew more dramatic, leaving Harappa more or less a desert. Eventually, the Aryan people settled in the remains of Harappa, bringing with them their theocratic government, and the stateless trade empire that was Harappa was forgotten.
Let me just say that I am not an archaeologist, nor am I a paid historian. I simply look for my sources, read them, and synthesize them in the form of an article. From what I have found, these three civilizations are fantastic examples of stateless societies. Though there are no signs in these areas that read “Anarchists Welcome!” many seasoned researchers will tell you that many times, it’s about what you cannot see. You must understand, to these people, government was probably something foreign, if they even considered it.
You may have heard anarchists say things like “you practice anarchy every day at home.” It was the same for these people, if on a larger scale. I highly doubt there weren’t any problems in these places. No—problems must exist before solutions do. But, in spite of having no governing body, society happened. Social organization simply didn’t require compulsion or coercion. From farming to art to sewers, these people discovered civilization. What is civilization? More than practical innovation, civilization is the practice of living amicably with another person. Civilization is trading with others, speaking with others, and building a legacy with others.
So, time to answer the three questions.
Government is the process of ruling over another person.
Society is a voluntary association of people living and interacting with each other.
Hobbes was wrong. The social contract does not need to include anyone ruling over anyone else, as these three cases demonstrate. The “state of nature” is not a war of all against all. People can develop complex structures (physical and social) without asking for some magical sovereign’s permission before doing so. People do not need to force others into paying for anything to which they do not wish to contribute. Society is voluntary. Government is force, and you do not need it.
“Yes, okay, okay,” cedes Mr. Skeptic. “That’s great. But, you have to acknowledge that these societies existed thousands of years ago. Government has been the way of life for humans for centuries now. How can we really be sure that society without government will work for us today?”
Well, if I have not convinced you yet, you may be beyond convincing. But, there is some validity to saying that people live in a different context than they did in 6,000 BCE. People cannot just go from a State to Anarchy overnight…or can they?
Part V: Anarchy in the U.S.A.???
Americans are in trouble.
If you’ve been watching the news at all lately, you know this is true. The American government is larger than it has ever been before.
The healthcare industry is being completely transformed into something horrendous. The United States military has bases in over 130 countries, and is rapidly expanding into Africa. The National “Security” State is by-far the largest it has ever been, spying on nearly everyone on Earth. Domestic police have been killing an average of 500 innocent civilians every year for the past 10 years. FDA raids are being conducted against people who sell lemonade and raw milk. Entitlements are completely insolvent. The government spends about twice the amount on corporate welfare for industries like pharmaceuticals and energy than it does social welfare (which is still a problem). Promises aren’t being fulfilled by those who’ve made them. The poor are getting poorer, the rich richer. The dollar’s value is tanking. Things aren’t looking good.
And it’s this isn’t new. The US government has been heading down this path for a long time. The march to despotism started has been a long and disturbing one: policies like the Alien and Sedition Acts, the Trail of Tears, slavery, segregation, the policies enacted during the Civil War, the Espionage Act, the creation of the Fed, the New Deal, internment camps, the Red Scare, the War on Poverty, the War on Drugs, the War on Terror, the PATRIOT Act, the NDAA, and about every war the US government has been involved with, and a myriad of other things that would and should terrify any sensible person have all contributed to where we are today.
But as bloated and corrupt and slimy the US government is, there is still some hope. Like always, to find the solution for the future, we must look to the past. It’s probably hard to believe now, but Americans haven’t always been so docile and brainwashed. In fact, I bet what I’m about to tell you will change the way you think about how society can work, even with such an oppressive government as ours.
America was founded by Anarchists.
Yes, it’s true. But let me make a note: I’m not saying Washington or Lincoln were Anarchists. They definitely weren’t. No, I’m talking about our lost forefathers. I’m talking about the radicals, the rebels who said “hell no” to Statism long before it was this big of a problem, and who so bravely laid a road map for how we should tackle today’s problems.
The Apostles of Anarchy
Most Americans know something about every state—a little stereotypical fact or something. In many minds, Pennsylvania is famous for Philly cheese-steaks, the Constitutional convention, Amish furniture, and chocolate. But what if I said Pennsylvania should be famous for Anarchism?
Founded by William Penn in the late 1600s, the colony of Pennsylvania was settled mostly by members of the Society of Friends (more commonly called Quakers). Though they weren’t the first or only group to practice Religious Anarchism, the Friends are a special group of people. With no formal ties to any organized body, the Quakers have always celebrated individuality and uniqueness. Most people in the 1600s didn’t like this. Amid constant wars between Theocrats, the Quakers found the common denominator in this chaos and sought to eliminate it: the State.
Cast out by their peers as a fringe sect, the original Quakers sought places where they could freely practice their faith. The young and promising America provided such a haven. And they needed one. Though their members still differ widely on the political spectrum, many Quakers have a penchant for anti-Statism. Holding pacifism as a central tenet of Quaker life, they have traditionally opposed taxes, conscription, nuclear arms, and the worship of or loyalty to the very earthly and very imperfect State. And while their ideologies vary from Communism to Capitalism, many Quaker colonies have made their living as rather brilliant entrepreneurs within their communities and outside them.
William Penn was a Quaker himself, and in the beginning, he was a benevolent ruler. His incentives to immigrants brought in diverse jobs, and he made it a point (through treaties and community action) to foster an amicable, if not equal, relationship with the Native American population. The ethical principles of the early Quakers permeated Pennsylvanian culture and spread throughout the colony. With their 12,000+ lives already separated greatly from the more regulated, stratified European States, Pennsylvania became an intensely independent place. In fact, Penn lifted all taxes (which were already very light) on the colony for two years. Unfortunately, power corrupts, and it did. The colony’s unique bicameral legislature operated in a very dubious way, and tensions within and without the parliament soon rose.
Following the inevitable path of Statism, Pennsylvania society separated into the politically connected and the common taxpayers. The Quakers, as pure as some of them were, were no exception to this rule. Those with influence within Penn’s circle held sway over domestic business and politics. As governor, Penn even granted himself a lime monopoly that caused anger with those who wanted to compete, and he also passed laws prohibiting any written criticism of himself or his government.. As young as it was, the once egalitarian and peaceful colony seemed on the verge of collapse.
After they had a taste of it, the commoners of Pennsylvania couldn’t get enough of their freedom. Simply put, they wanted to do what they wanted. It sounded crazy then, and sadly, it sounds crazy today. They just wanted to practice their faith and associate with each other without anyone telling them what to do. They refused to pay feudal quitrents, they refused to pay taxes, and they refused to call their parliament to session. The powerful, on the other hand, wanted more privilege and wealth to siphon from the colonists. The governor tried to administer his colony, but the tides of liberty were strong, and he couldn’t help but to make more and more concessions. Penn even sent military and administrative officials to uncooperative communities, but to no avail.
By 1690—after about 10 years of Anarchy in Pennsylvania—Penn lost his authority over the colony. The colonists went about in a voluntary, peaceful, prosperous way long after he died. The parliament met occasionally, but only a handful of resolutions were passed. The people didn’t need or want their government. Parliament couldn’t help but practice “salutary neglect.” Pennsylvania grew ever-more unique, creating their own commodity-backed currency and welcoming other outcast sects like the Amish. They even had Natives from the area come into their communities as traders, babysitters, and jurors. Pennsylvania’s treaty with the Natives remains, to this day, the only treaty ever signed and fulfilled by white settlers.
Sadly, though, all good things must come to an end. The Anarchist dream of Pennsylvania eventually fell apart. After the French and Indian War, the Revolutionary War brought Philadelphia to the forefront, where Benjamin Franklin and other founders launched their campaign against Great Britain. Pennsylvania’s currency was replaced, their government replaced by the Continental Congress, and their men enlisted into Washington’s army. After the Revolution, the colony became a state, and was assimilated into the United States of America. A few—albeit passionate—rebellions were staged against the young (but tyrannical) US government. But the free people of Pennsylvania were crushed by the very people who claimed to represent freedom. But for about 30 (or more) glorious years, Pennsylvania was truly free and beautiful.
But Pennsylvania isn’t alone in its dream. Throughout history, religious societies opposed to the State have flourished. From the Dhoukobors to the Jewish Renewal movement, Religious Anarchism has a rich and tenacious history. Authors like Leo Tolstoy and Khan Abdul Ghaffar Khan have written extensively on how the State threatens people of faith. Even today, it is alive and well. In England, for example, the community of Stapleton (founded by a cousin organization to the Quakers) operates in open defiance to the UK government, asserting their rights to faith, life, and liberty. If you haven’t heard of it, that’s probably a good thing, especially these days. But there is no question, the tradition of friendly, Stateless life lives on, and there is hope it will continue.
Mutually Assured Construction
You might have heard of a man named Josiah Warren. In fact, if you’re reading this article, you probably have. Besides being an inventor, musician, and writer, he was also one of the world’s greatest philosophers. You see, Josiah Warren was the first ever Anarchist.
But here’s another note: If you’ve read any past articles from this series, you know that many, many people have believed in and practiced Anti-Statism. But Josiah Warren was the first ever person (an American, at that) to vocalize and pen the philosophy of Anarchism.
Dissatisfied with slavery, corporatism, and other ills that infected the young United States, Warren closed his factory and left his home for New Harmony, Indiana. The town of Harmony already existed (founded by one of the many religious sects during the Second Great Awakening), but Josiah Warren and his compatriot Robert Owen sought to build a heaven on earth.
The whole idea for a town run without any government administration was actually Owen’s idea. Robert Owen, some of you might know, was a major proponent of the Labor Theory of Value and one of the founders of Anarcho-Communism. With a disdain for property and individualism, Owen attempted to form New Harmony around these ideals. Unfortunately, the experiment largely failed. This prompted the young and industrious Warren to pick up his things and start all over.
For his own experiment, Warren thought he’d try something different. Individual autonomy and property rights would be key. In Ohio, he created the community of Utopia (but don’t worry, he wasn’t so arrogant as to name it that—it was also a carry-over from another religious sect). It was there that Warren began to formulate his idea of Mutualism, a system of trade based around the LTV. From 1847 to the early 1860s, Utopia exploded in population and wealth. Forward-thinkers came to the town to set up home and shop, eager to experiment in a market economy with no regulations or laws. By the 1850s, when Warren returned from one of his many adventures, the town had several factories, stores, and other attractions. Tragically, the Civil War came to Ohio. As a crucial Union state, Lincoln’s administration wanted to squeeze as much military might out of Ohio as possible. Warren’s decision to make Utopia a by-invitation-only community led to disaster when the Union bought all surrounding land, making expansion virtually impossible. Original inhabitants stayed in the area at least until the 1870s, but eventually the state of Ohio absorbed the county Utopia is in today.
But, always persistent, Warren was not finished by a long shot. While he was away from Utopia, Warren teamed up with Individualist Anarchist and polymath Stephen Pearl Andrews. Together, they founded the town we call Brentwood, Long Island. From 1851 onward, the community expanded as the ideas of Anarchism spread throughout the world. And this time, instead of inviting certain people, all were free to move to what the pair called Modern Times. Transcendentalists, teachers, doctors, hedonists, writers, entrepreneurs, and an array of other castaways formed the colony’s growing but manageable population.
Again, though, the tides of war proved unstoppable. The Union, very present in New York, bought up and/or incorporated the surrounding land. Eventually, the original population dwindled. By the 1900s, Brentwood, NY was incorporated and its history was lost.
By the end of his life, Warren was supremely satisfied with what he accomplished. With nothing but a pen and a dream, he managed to convince hundreds of people to follow his ideal: that humankind is meant to be free. Without the mammoth State watching, coercing, and forcing people around, these two communities lived in absolute peace and harmony. Voluntarily trading and cooperating, they created the most efficient and enjoyable way of life, free from their contemporary horrors like slavery and conscription. Instead, they bloomed.
With these examples in mind, there is no reason that we, as a society, cannot replicate them. Time and time again, we have seen States (like America) remorselessly abuse the people they claimed to represent. And time and time again, the abused make the terrible mistake of replacing their governments with even more government. French Revolutionary Jean Varlet summed up this problem:
“Government and revolution are incompatible, unless the people wishes to set its constituted authorities in permanent insurrection against itself.”
But these Anarchic societies haven’t failed through their own flaws. Without fail, the peaceful, prosperous people of societies like the Icelandic Commonwealth or Moresnet have seen the thunderous boots of tax-fueled armies pouring into their land, taking their resources, destroying their way of life, and—to add insult to injury—completely forgetting their history. No, these Edens were destroyed by the original sin of government.
Isn’t it time we woke up? Isn’t it time we stop reliving our nightmares over and over and over? Life can be more than what it is. We, as a species, have slowly but surely been watching this, and we’ve been getting sick of it. We’ve been getting sick of violence and theft and poverty. Something needs to happen. But what we shouldn’t keep clinging to the idea that we need someone to control us. If we do, nothing will change. The human race will forever kill itself.
There is overwhelming evidence Anarchy can work. Anarchy does work. Let’s stop with this petty excuse that it can’t be done. Let’s stop saying it will always fail. No, it is possible. It will be successful if only we get out of our own way. Let’s stand up like the human beings we are and say, “No. I’m a responsible person. I’ll succeed or fail on my own. I can be trusted to deal equitably with others. I do not need someone spying on me, I do not need someone stealing from me, I do not need someone threatening me. I am an adult. I will buy what I want from those who are willing to sell. I will sell what I want to those that are willing to buy. I will not hurt my neighbors or my friends or my family. I am not a tax cow that needs to be harnessed and milked. I am a human, and I alone will determine my fate.”
And, lucky for us, that is happening right now.
Part VI: The Living Anti-Nation
Zomia
Where is Zomia?
You won’t find it on most maps. You can’t buy a plane ticket to it. You can’t even get directions to it with your GPS or phone. If you dig around long enough, though, you’ll learn that Zomia is another name for the highlands in the Southeast Asian massif, which is still confusing for most Westerners. So for those who aren’t experts in Asian geography, it generally covers parts of Vietnam, Thailand, Laos, China, Tibet, Nepal, Myanmar, Bhutan, Bangladesh, and India. But Zomia is more than just a place. Zomia is really a group of people. It’s a society. There are two things that make it very special:
1. Zomia, in which there are more than 100,000,000 people, has operated without any government to speak of, and
2. Zomia exists right now.
But what is Zomia, exactly? Who lives there? What is its history? There’s a decent amount of literature on Zomia, including articles in the New York Times and the Boston Globe, but the most thorough and thought-provoking illustration comes from Yale professor James C. Scott’s (brilliantly titled) “The Art of Not Being Governed: An Anarchist History of Upland Southeast Asia.” I can’t say I’ve read the whole book, but from the variety of sources there are on the subject, I think I’ve come to the answers to the previous three questions.
To sum it up, the Zomians are dispersed, Stateless, marooned peoples. They are neither heterogenous or homogenous. The various sub-cultures within Zomia (and there are many) can be thought of as patches within a vibrant and beautiful quilt. Each have their own unique patterns and identity, but are woven together as part of a larger society.
So how did this happen? Well, the governments of Southeast Asia are kind of peculiar. I say that because they are rather bad at governing. The Chinese government, for example, is so centralized and cumbersome that it cannot feasibly keep track of its colossal population. Vietnam, in both contrast and kind, has such a weak government that many people manage to come and go without being noticed. So, administration is confined to the heavily populated lowlands. Though geography once granted these areas abundant resources, the wages of the State have triumphed. War, disease, economic disparity, sociopolitical tensions, and other ills plague these “civilized” regions. So, it’s not uncommon for people to flee to the highlands. Zomians, over time, have basically rejected the life of lowlanders. They are somewhat analogous to what some people call gypsies or hillbillies (not in any derogatory senses) – a society of outlaws too out of reach, both geographically and socially, for the State to spend its efforts on. Together, these dissidents have made a sort of anti-nation.
The different peoples of Zomia have made for themselves a unique way of life. They do not live with most modern amenities, which is regrettable, but they do find methods of sustainability and sustenance off the grid (mainly through hunting, gathering, and Swidden agriculture). They are also decidedly anti-government. Throughout history, Zomians have rebelled against States (from the Mughal Empire to Maoist China) and each time, more people have defected to Zomia. They also maintain very little if any sense of governance within communities. They value equality as well as faith. Yet, defying most modern thought, traditions are taught and kept by families and communities, not instilled through schools or propaganda. There are anywhere between 5 and 30 ethnic groups within Zomia. Though they have dozens of languages and dialects, the Zomians operate on a more or less market economy with distinct primitivists roots, valuing material wealth as well as hard work and sacrifice. Their traditions are widely varied, especially because they hold fast to them as a way to distinguish themselves from their governed neighbors. However, what really boggles the mind is that these seemingly separate cultures have come together to form a pretty much cohesive civilization, where everything from language to religion constantly adapt to fit the people themselves. Zomia seems, then, to be a sort of Wild West Hong Kong, where life is wild and free and organic. It is simultaneously regressing and progressing. It’s the principle of spontaneous order in action today. If you have not read more into Zomia, I encourage you to do it today.
So what can we learn from Zomia?
First, we know that government, particularly centralized government, is on the whole unnecessary for life. It is unnecessary for health, prosperity, trade, faith, family, community, and equality. Where we see strife in the governed world, we see harmony in the ungoverned.
Secondly, we know the State is not inevitable. There seems to be this fatalistic belief held by most people that the State will spring up unaided. No one knows how long Zomia has existed, but for what record we have, we known Zomia has never had a government, so that rules it out. We can also conclude that though the cultures within Zomia are indeed different, conflict (particularly war) is not a necessary or certain result of cultural differences. It’s been generally thought that States form through cultural similarities combined with the need for survival, and that war has always followed the clash of civilizations. Zomia (as well as all other examples within this series) shows this simply isn’t true. The Hmong or Lahu peoples of Zomia, as different they may be, have not felt the need to form States to go to war with one another. No, it’s quite the opposite. They trade. They communicate. They thrive.
Thirdly, we know that spontaneous order can supplant the State. Look at the Internet. A white Christian in Connecticut can communicate and debate with a black Muslim from Egypt and an Asian atheist from Japan all in the span of a minute. There are millions upon millions of Facebook pages and blogs and podcasts and encyclopedias devoted to the concept of an open forum. Yet, despite all differences, there is no need for armed conflict. I’ll say it again: there is no need for it. The keyboard is mightier than the sword. And it is civility and tolerance that will open the gates for the most logical and best ideas to win. The market of ideas is exactly that, an open market where anyone is free to sell their ideas and to defend them as right or wrong. As people choose to follow more efficient and ethical ideas, products appear that satisfy this progressive trend. Bitcoin, and all that it facilitates, is a wonderful example of this.
I’m not saying there haven’t been other melting pots throughout history. No, America is the most famous example of one. But the problem is that eventually all of these melting pots have failed. Why? Because politics and violence and control have won out over competition and cooperation and rationality.
I’m not saying everyone has to stop what they’re doing right now and jump on board for the Stateless society. I’m not saying we should secede and live like cavemen. I’m not asking you to engage in civil disobedience or to join the black market. I’m not even asking you to live like they did in Brehon Ireland or Moresnet or like they are living in Zomia. I’m asking you, whoever is reading this, to think of a better world. Think of a world without institutionalized force. Think of a world without the legitimized and systematic theft, kidnapping, murder, slavery, impressment, serfdom, cronyism, excess, poverty, fraud, propaganda, and strife which all make up the State. You only need to pick up a history book to see the eternal and inherent evils of the State, from Rome to Rwanda to America. We’ve seen hundreds of revolutions crushed under their own weight when they turn to politics to solve their problems. But doesn’t have to be so. We shouldn’t lose heart – actually, there’s very little reason to.
Liberty has worked. History has shown government is oppression and that freedom is by far more conducive to happiness. If ten examples of working Anarchism don’t convince you to at least be politically agnostic, then you may be beyond hope. For those of you who have read this series and have come to question the system, congratulations. “Knowing is half the battle,” as they say.
The revolution is alive, burning inside the hearts and minds of all who believe in unrestrained freedom. You are the resistance. I don’t know what the solution will be. It could be peaceful parenting, insurrection, Agorism, homesteading, education, secession, home-schooling, emigration, permaculture, or a combination of all of the above. We can draw on each other’s knowledge and products to make the State irrelevant. Each person has the dignity and the capacity to create a world where liberty lives. And where liberty lives, peace, equality, and prosperity will follow.
