Activism
In this special edition of the column “Freedom in Captivity. Solidarity Without Borders,” we publish an interview with Pyotr Ryabov — a Russian anarchist, historian, philosopher, and publicist. In the first part of the interview, we discussed how anarchism emerged in Belarus, the figures who influenced the development of anarchism in Belarusian latitudes, and the reasons for the crisis of anarchist and leftist ideas in our time.
Pyotr Ryabov — Russian anarchist, historian, philosopher, and publicist
— Are there references to the anarchist movement in the history of Belarus? If so, where and when, and how did the anarchist idea historically develop in Belarusian territories?
— Belarusian anarchism in the 19th century developed as part of the general anarchism within the Russian Empire. The first wave of anarchism was very closely linked to Narodnichestvo (Populism). In fact, it’s not even that there was some separate anarchist current among the Populists—though there were figures like Bakunin and Kropotkin—the phenomenon of Populism itself was permeated with libertarian, anti-statist, and federalist ideas. Even Herzen was not a complete anarchist, but he was inspired by Proudhon and held many libertarian views. Therefore, if we recall the first Populist organizations of the Russian Empire, such as “Zemlya i Volya” (Land and Liberty) or “Chyorny Peredel” (Black Repartition), they were essentially anarchist, and naturally, their groups existed on the territory of Belarus. I would say that Belarusian anarchism, like that of the broader Russian Empire, has unified Populist roots in the 19th century.
Of course, there is a figure in history very dear to me, and I know he is dear to Belarusians as well — Kastus Kalinouski, the leader of the 1863-1864 uprising. He was not an anarchist, but he is connected to the tradition of fighting for free socialism and revolution with a strong social focus.
It is no coincidence that one of the first organizations to emerge among the anarchists of the 1990s was called “Chyrvony Zhond” (The Red Government) — named exactly like Kastus Kalinouski’s organization. Kalinouski, like Herzen, was not a one-hundred-percent anarchist; later, everyone from Kadets and Bolsheviks to SRs and anarchists appealed to his legacy. In this sense, Kastus Kalinouski is a figure of a broader range. But I simply point to him as a particularly dear and important person for Belarusians in particular.
On the other hand, the specifics of Belarusian anarchism were influenced by the proximity of Poland, much of whose territory was also subject to the Russian Empire at the time. Many Polish anarchists, then and later, influenced Belarusian anarchism. For example, a figure who is unfortunately almost unknown in Russia is Edward Abramowski — a theorist of Polish anarchism. He, by the way, influenced the Polish trade union “Solidarity” in the 20th century. I would say he was the Polish Herzen. In Russia, he is very little known, which is very sad. I believe his ideas influenced the formation of anarchist thought in our latitudes as well.
— You have a lecture on anarchism and art. You cited books by authors who did not identify as anarchists, but whose texts are quite anarchist in nature. In particular, you mentioned Hašek’s “The Fate of the Good Soldier Švejk.” Are there similar examples in Belarusian literature?
— Hašek was an anarchist for a time and was a member of the Anarchist Federation of Bohemia (AFB). However, by the time he wrote Švejk, he had already moved away from anarchism. In reality, a huge number of artists worldwide were anarchists, especially at the end of the 19th and beginning of the 20th centuries. One could list them endlessly: painters, writers, poets. But speaking specifically of Belarus, I must admit I have a limited knowledge of Belarusian cinema or literature. I mostly know works created by activists of the anarchist movement. I think I will mention more than once that Belarusian anarchism has always placed a massive emphasis on culture — on what Antonio Gramsci would call the struggle for cultural hegemony. Though it’s a bit of a Marxist expression, it is appropriate here.
What examples can I recall? The first satirical feature film shot by a group of Belarusian and other anarchists is “Sluchay z patsanom” (A Case with a Lad), which very sharply mocked both the authorities and the mainstream opposition (the Belarusian Popular Front). Furthermore, we will mention again a great phenomenon that never had an equivalent in the former USSR — “Navinki”. This was a newspaper that was published for five years and shaped an entire generation, a whole culture of youth. I would say it is a successful example of implementing the ideas once propagated by the French Situationists. That is, taking the language of pop culture, advertising, and clichés, and under the guise of praising bourgeois values or the government, totally criticizing and ridiculing it all. This newspaper was published for years and read by thousands. It was a very vivid phenomenon in both the artistic and political life of Belarus. Unfortunately, I have never been to Brest, but I’ve heard much about the “Brest Free Theatre.” As I understand it, its origins were also anarchist.
As for literature, I have only read books by imprisoned anarchists: Olinevich and Dedok. Igor Olinevich’s “Going to Magadan” is particularly remarkable. This book, I feel, is not just documentary evidence; it is partly artistic and existential. It goes beyond a simple description of events; it contains much reflection and deep emotional experience.
And, of course, it is worth mentioning—though I am far from subcultures like rock or punk—the group Deviation by my good friend Stas Pochobut. As I understand it, this group was also very important for Belarusian culture. While I don’t know much about the group in general, I have heard many of their songs and I like them very much.
To be honest, I know little Belarusian literature outside of anarchism. I am very fond of Vasil Bykau. He, of course, is not an anarchist, but rather an existentialist. That is another interest of mine, but it doesn’t relate to anarchism.
— Which historical figures or groups have had a significant influence on the development of the anarchist movement in Belarus?
— I have already touched upon this. On one hand, these are the people who influenced anarchist movements both in the Russian Empire and globally. As I mentioned, Poland had a strong influence, including Edward Abramowski. The answer involves a standard set of names: Herzen, Bakunin, and so on. It’s interesting, by the way, that Bakunin served in Belarus in his youth. He wasn’t an anarchist then, but it’s an interesting fact. After finishing artillery school, he spent several years serving on the territory of Belarus, though this was not yet the “anarchist” Bakunin. Ignacy Hryniewiecki, the assassin of Alexander II—who, as I understand, was not an anarchist but a member of Narodnaya Volya—was Belarusian. These are some prominent figures on an imperial scale related to the revolutionary movement. Naturally, the anarchist groups that emerged in Belarus were inspired by Proudhon, Bakunin, Kropotkin, and Polish anarchists, their ideas, and practices.
So the Belarusian anarchist movement was influenced not just by a Russian current, but was rather part of a global movement. Anarchism, after all, has never really recognized borders.
Anarchist ideas are deeply international, and trends shift between countries. Moreover, anarchists have always had a strong tradition of emigration for obvious reasons: many fled countries where they were particularly persecuted.
So it’s the usual set—from Proudhon to Kropotkin, from Edward Abramowski to Bakunin. These are the figures who influenced the formation of Belarusian anarchism in the early 20th century. For the second half and the end of the 20th century, the influence of the spirit of 1968, various situationists, subcultures, and so on, becomes very strong.
— This leads to the next question. How has the anarchist idea been transformed in our time? What are the most pressing themes and issues raised in the modern anarchist movement in Belarus and beyond?
— Anarchism reached perhaps its lowest point of existence in the mid-20th century. This was not only due to dictatorships—the fact that in a number of countries it was physically destroyed, as happened in Spain, Germany, Russia, and Italy; there were very few countries where anarchism could exist at all, and it became a sort of museum of itself.
But there are deeper reasons. The 20th century was the century of totalitarianism and various dictatorships. It was a century of strong state paternalism, even in countries where totalitarian regimes did not come to power. What is totalitarianism? It is total paternalism. The state absorbs society. Even where it didn’t go that far—for example, in the USA after Roosevelt—the “New Deal” was the same thing, just in a “soft” version. Instead of fighting for their rights and self-organizing as they did before, people live in a society organized like a giant factory, a huge Babylon where bureaucrats decide everything. Even if there are elections, as in America, it doesn’t align with anarchism, which speaks of self-management. What kind of self-management can there be when a factory employs 100,000 people and no one understands how it all functions? But a new wave arrives, starting roughly with 1968. A movement toward self-management and overcoming alienation in all spheres of life — absolutely everything changes. A free spirit of liberty began to blow, and anarchism started to come alive. It began to emerge from a state of deep hibernation. And yes, of course, the Situationists: Red May in Paris, the revival of the anarchist movement worldwide.
Of course, anarchism is unfortunately not currently the powerful force it was a hundred years ago when there were million-strong trade unions, syndicalist movements, and when anarchism was a vital part of culture. We could name many great writers, poets, artists, and scientists who were anarchists then. Right now, anarchism is not at such a peak, and not just because it is persecuted by authorities on one hand. On the other hand, anarchism is no longer just a museum piece as it was in the mid-20th century. It is searching for new forms of existence. In my view, a crucial difference is especially vivid in the post-Soviet space, where society has been completely destroyed, crushed by the steamroller of the 20th century. A hundred years ago, the “obshchina” (commune) existed: we shouldn’t idealize it, it had many flaws, but it was a cell of social self-management, mutual support, and survival. To a large extent, the fact that the commune began to liberalize and radicalize gave birth to the 1917 revolution. Now there is no commune; instead, we have a situation described by the classic word — atomization.
People are extremely fragmented; they don’t know how to act collectively or how to reach agreements. This leads to anarchism becoming a movement of the individual first.
I am an existentialist in my philosophical views, and this is very dear to me. Everything begins with the rebellion of individuality, and only then can individuals unite and try to build some new society, because it simply doesn’t exist yet.
Of course, entirely new problems have emerged that, with all due respect, Proudhon, Bakunin, and Kropotkin knew nothing about. For example, the ecological problem — which is ultra-relevant because humanity is truly on the brink of destruction—or the threat of weapons of mass destruction, the new horror of a full-scale world war. None of this existed 100–150 years ago. Today, anarchists try to act in various fields. For example, libertarian pedagogy is a huge topic. I won’t speak long on it, but the attempt to build free education is something anarchists can be proud of. One can recall Francisco Ferrer, the great Spanish anarchist who created hundreds of schools. There were many anarchist educators before and after him.
There are attempts at cooperative projects even in modern Russia, though I think it’s almost impossible, and even more so worldwide. There are attempts to traditionally create labor movements and syndicalist unions. There are subcultural phenomena, and, of course, new currents of anarchism such as anarcha-feminism, eco-anarchism, and so on.
Anarchism, in my view, is an attempt to integrate different alternatives, different optics of criticizing modern society, which suffers from a lack of alternatives. I always say we need to rehabilitate the word “utopia” — not in the sense of something impossible, but in the sense of the ability to dream.
Because rejecting utopia means people give up being subjects of history: they become objects of manipulation and say that nothing will change. In reality, it will change anyway, just without their knowledge, and they will simply be fertilizer in that process. Therefore, one must try, and anarchism is precisely an attempt to gather these different practices and views. To put it very briefly, modern anarchism is a vibrant, chaotic, fragmented network of various initiatives and movements. The beautiful slogan: “Another world is possible.” And it’s clear that this world is not a barracks in the spirit of the Bolsheviks, nor is it a capitalist factory or a neoliberal paradise with a total market and competition, but something entirely different. Anarchists try to practice this by their own examples, primarily on themselves.
— Can we speak of a crisis in the modern Left movement? And why do you think this crisis exists, and what are the sentiments among anarchists regarding this?
— First of all, I think we need to look very broadly. We are living in the era of the end of Modernity — a massive era that began in the 17th century and ended in the 20th. We haven’t fully realized or felt this yet. Modernity was a time of faith in the inevitability of progress, the cult of science and reason… The 20th century became a century of terrible disillusionment, world wars, and totalitarian regimes. It became clear that progress is, to put it mildly, not inevitable. Science is not omnipotent, man is not that strong, and everything is not so predetermined in a good sense. Old ideologies and old perceptions have begun to become somewhat obsolete. The same applies to the system of parties and parliaments associated with Modernity.
The concepts of “Left” and “Right,” as is known, trace back to the French Revolution, and they stem, I believe, from a somewhat flat world: power and property — are you for progress or against it? Are you for private property or collective? Но modern world has become much more complex. It has become not two-dimensional or three-dimensional, but something like twenty-dimensional.
I don’t really like using these expressions now. When I am asked and pinned against the wall, I say: “Yes, I am more on the Left.” But I don’t like shouting about it because you immediately find yourself grouped with the Bolsheviks.
In addition to questions of power and property, a multitude of other questions arise. For instance, being for progress — yes, but for what kind? And in what? If this progress means continuous economic growth that will kill the planet, then I am against such progress. I would slow it down. In this sense, it turns out I am not even for progress, I am no longer “Left,” and I am somewhere near the conservatives calling for ecological limits to this progress, and so on.
Therefore, in my view, anarchism always had a progressivist moment — meaning a post-capitalist society after capitalism. Но it also had a pre-capitalist element, oriented toward the commune, ethics, and certain non-bourgeois structures. And that is why, I repeat, to what extent is it appropriate to apply the “Left” and “Right” concepts when the scale has become so complex? That is the first factor. The second factor is the collapse of the USSR and the Soviet camp. This opened many perspectives because there is no longer a monopoly of Marxism, let alone Leninism. There is an opportunity to say that socialism is not only—and not primarily—a barracks. We constantly repeat Bakunin’s phrase like a mantra: “Socialism without liberty is slavery and brutality. Liberty without socialism is privilege and injustice.” This part of the formula is precious to us. Thus, on one hand, the collapse of the USSR and the discredit of Marxism opens certain perspectives for anarchists. On the other hand, again, we arrive at the global question: what comes after Modernity, where do we go?
To what extent are the terms “Left” and “Right” still appropriate? In general, this is a topic for a separate interview. I am just briefly pointing out a few things.
Materials from the column “Freedom in Captivity. Solidarity Without Borders”:
“The goal justifies its means”
“I couldn’t miss these pivotal historical times – I’ve waited for them for 20 years of my life”
“The trial is like a play for me alone”
“I know — the future belongs to us”
“The authorities fear anarchists as much as Igor Losik and Sergei Tikhanovsky”
You can support imprisoned Belarusian anarchists through ABC-Belarus