Texts compiled and presented by Miguel Chueca. Machine translation into English by Class Autonomy July 2026.

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Introduction: Emile Pouget, from Father Peinard to trade union leader

Outside of small activist circles, Émile Pouget is little remembered, despite being one of the most famous anarchist pamphleteers of the late 19th ^century and later a leader of the syndicalist movement in the early years of the following century. He is also vaguely known for his skillful use of slang, particularly in his novel * Père Peinard*, which remains a treasure trove for all lovers and/or specialists of the vernacular of working-class Paris at the end of the 19th ^century . As for the syndicalist theorist, his recent resurgence from obscurity is due to a number of events (the kidnapping of employers, various acts of sabotage, etc.) which have brought back to the forefront one of the combat tactics advocated by early 20th-century French revolutionary syndicalism ^[ 1 ] , and drawn the attention of journalists and other experts in social peace to a pamphlet on sabotage, of which Pouget is rightly considered the first “theorist” in France [2] .

However, despite the sporadic interest he has received in recent years, it must be acknowledged that he remains largely unknown to the general public: late 19th-century anarchism ^has a poor reputation, and early 20th-century revolutionary syndicalism is hardly known except to the few specialists who still study the labor movement in this country. It is therefore no surprise that Pouget, like so many of his comrades, fell victim to the heavy cloak of oblivion that descended upon a movement that seems to have vanished in the years immediately following the First World War. The texts collected here bear witness only to the latter period, when “Father Peinard” became “the éminence grise of the proletariat,” the driving force behind * La Voix du Peuple*, the central organ of the CGT, and the author of several works containing the essence of the “sober doctrine” of the syndicalist movement. But there is such unity in Pouget’s life of activism that it is impossible to understand his later commitments without mentioning them.

Pouget, an anarchist activist and propagandist

In truth, Pouget’s first calling was militant journalism, which he began to explore through his (brief) experience with Ça ira, an anarchist newspaper launched in Paris in 1888. However, his first experience dated back much earlier: still very young [3] , Pouget had already demonstrated his aptitude for committed journalism by creating a handwritten publication with “progressive” ideas, about which, apart from the title, Le Lycéen républicain (The Republican High School Student), almost nothing is known, except that it earned him “drubbings, detentions, and confinements” [4] . According to Victor Méric, these “progressive ideas” came to him from his stepfather, Philippe Vergely, a civil servant and ardent republican.

In 1871, Vergely took him to the trial of the Narbonne Communards, held in Rodez, which had a huge impact on the small town and left a strong impression on the young Émile. A few years later, the vagaries of life would lead him to cross paths again with the main defendant in that trial, Émile Digeon, who had, incidentally, been acquitted. As for the Republican Lycéen experiment, it must have come to an abrupt end: in 1875, having lost his stepfather, Pouget was forced to abandon his studies. He then chose to leave his native province to seek a living in Paris, where he found employment in a “novelty store,” probably Le Bon Marché. A few years later, in 1879, he founded the first employees’ union and edited the monthly Bulletin of the Federal Union of Employees. His union activity having cost him his job in the “novelty store,” he left this work environment for that of the book trade, more suited to his tastes [5] .

By his own admission, Pouget became an anarchist by reading La Révolution sociale [6] a newspaper animated by a brilliant publicist, Émile Gautier, who spent himself tirelessly in the early 1880s, when anarchism began to exist as such. La Révolution sociale, one of the first French anarchist publications [7] , theoretically weekly, had a very limited lifespan: appearing on September 12, 1880, it ceased publication on September 18 of the following year, never having managed to maintain the planned publication schedule at the very beginning, despite Louise Michel’s collaboration in its writing, at the end of 1880. By browsing through the issues of this “anarchist organ,” which shows a definite interest in a workers’ movement that was gradually rebuilding itself after the end of the First International and the massacres of the Commune, one better understands what must have interested the young Pouget, already more concerned with workers’ struggles than with “a purely speculative and idealistic anarchism” with which his “social sense” could not be satisfied [8] .

In all likelihood, it was shortly after the publication of *La Révolution sociale* that Pouget began frequenting small anarchist groups—these social study circles, as they liked to call themselves at the time—when they were still just that “half a quartet” that Jules Guesde’s friends mocked in their newspaper *L’Égalité*. He became particularly close to the small group that met on Rue Saint-Martin, at the home of a wine merchant named Rousseau, and it was there that he met Émile Digeon again, whom he had already seen and admired in 1871 at the Rodez courthouse. Having returned to France after a few years abroad, Digeon had settled in Paris and, having “converted” to anarchism, he would act as a “spiritual father” to the young Pouget.

While little information exists about Pouget’s activities during the very early years of his anarchist involvement, we do know that he attended the International Anarchist Congress in London (July 14-21, 1881) as part of a French delegation that included Louise Michel, Émile Gautier, and an agent provocateur known as Serreaux [9] . This congress, which Kropotkin and Malatesta also attended, is remembered for having launched the slogan of “propaganda by the deed” and thus ushered in the era of anarchist attacks, which would reach its peak during the following decade. But generally speaking, little information is available about Pouget’s activities during the very early years of his anarchist involvement.

On the other hand, the event that would lead to his first conviction and imprisonment is well known. In the early 1880s, anarchists had taken to organizing “hungry rallies” in the fashionable districts of the capital. Thus, on March 9, 1883, the Carpenters’ Union, led by libertarians, gathered between fifteen and twenty thousand unemployed workers on the Esplanade des Invalides. The police quickly broke up the meeting, but two large groups of demonstrators formed: one, rapidly dispersed, headed towards the Élysée Palace, and the other, including Louise Michel and Louise Pouget, marched down the Boulevard Saint-Germain . [10] Some demonstrators took the opportunity to loot a few bakeries before clashing with the police near the Place Maubert.

Both Pouget and Louise Michel were arrested and tried before the Seine Assize Court on June 21, 22, and 23. Pouget, along with “good Louise,” was accused of participating in the March 9th demonstration, but also, and above all, of “possessing lethal and incendiary devices that worked by explosion” and of sending pamphlets to provincial anarchist activists “inciting soldiers to disobey their officers” [11] . At the end of this trial, Louise Michel was sentenced to six years’ imprisonment, and Pouget to eight years, a sentence he had to serve at the Melun prison. He was released after three years, thanks to the amnesty he received on January 14, 1886.

It was only two years after his release, in 1888, that he began his first real experience as a propagandist, collaborating with the anarchist newspaper Le Ça ira, edited primarily by Constant Martin, a former Communard who had come from the ranks of Blanquism. In its inaugural issue, published on Sunday, May 27, the editors of the journal expressed their desire to address themselves primarily “to the great mass of the proletariat” and, “without neglecting the philosophical side of anarchist theories,” to make Ça ira a organ particularly devoted to agitation, demonstrating a mindset to which Pouget would remain faithful throughout his militant life. The newspaper, which would not respect

Its bi-monthly publication was short-lived, and it did not survive beyond issue number 10, which appeared on January 13, 1889, after only a few months. Although the newspaper’s articles were unsigned, it is nevertheless clear that Pouget should be credited with the “Miscellaneous News” section, written in a style that, along with his Père Peinard, he would make his trademark. Here, as an example, are the few words that the writer of this section devoted to the suicide of a cooper: “Some say that you need no courage to voluntarily take the plunge: nonsense, that’s a joke. You need nerve, and that’s why the poor wretches would do better to use their energy on something other than destroying themselves. If they have a mania for distraction, let them destroy the bourgeoisie, a thousand bombs, there’s no shortage of that vermin to crush. [12]  “

As we can see, even at this early stage, Pouget possessed the style that would become the hallmark of Père Peinard, whose first issue appeared on February 24, 1889. The content of these early issues was still very close to his column in Ça ira, but it would quickly gain in ambition and, with La Révolte [13] , it would soon become the main mouthpiece of militant anarchism, at a time when newspapers served as rallying points for individuals and small anarchist groups. This first series, the longest of all, ran for 253 weekly issues, from 1889 until February 21, 1894, when Pouget had to flee France abruptly during the trial of the so-called Thirty- ^Thirty . The periodical, which initially appeared in a very small format, modeled on Rochefort’s La Lanterne , was written in the style of Père Duchesne, but in a more proletarian style, the same one that Pouget had inaugurated in Le Ça ira. And, like the latter, the articles were almost always anonymous, which may have led some to believe – wrongly – that they were all written by Émile Pouget alone [15] .

Here’s how the “shoemaker-turned-journalist” justifies the founding of “Le Caneton” at the height of Boulangism: “As ridiculous as it may seem, there it is, I’m a journalist! How it came about, in a nutshell: for some time now, a whole bunch of ideas had been swirling around in my head, and it was really bothering me that I couldn’t give birth to them. To see this end of the century, disgusting as can be, where everything is lies, villainy, and banditry, and to stand by and watch it all with my mouth shut: good God, I just couldn’t get used to it!” As for his choice of the language of the people, here’s the explanation:

Naturally, being a simpleton, I’m not obliged to write like the pedants of the Academy: you know, those forty immortal gherkins, preserved in a big jar, on the other side of the Seine. Oh no, I won’t write like them! First of all, because I’m not capable of it, and especially because it’s so boring, I tell you. […] The guys in the workshops, the factory workers, all those who toil hard and slave away, will understand me. [16]

Father Peinard ‘s anarchist verve will be exercised, from 1889 to 1900, although with some interruptions, against all the representatives of all the civil and military authorities, those very same ones whom the cover of the weekly shows fleeing in disorder before the foot-pull of the angry “gniaff”: “skirted” of the courts of justice, “judges” and “digging lawyers”; “gaffes”, “redheads”, “sergots”, “cows” and other “quarter-eyes”; “clerical pigs”, “rat-pigs”, “vobiscum”, and all the “Jesuits”, not forgetting, of course, the “Aquarium pancake eaters”, “pure-blooded reactionaries”, “opportunists”, “radicals” and, finally, last but not least, the “failing socialists”, first and foremost the friends of Jules Guesde, the “Muhammad of Roubaix”, Pouget’s permanent target throughout his militant years.

Father Peinard doesn’t just “polish the backsides of all the good-for-nothings,” “the rulers and the capitalists,” but he opens his columns to the echoes of all the workers’ revolt movements taking place across the country and beyond French borders. And, as early as November 1889, he begins to campaign for this new idea, which had appeared a few years earlier among the workers of the Faubourg Saint-Antoine and was popularized by his comrade Tortelier throughout the country: “Yes, by God, that’s all that matters today: the general strike! [17]  ” And two months later: “General strike. It’s becoming more and more of an issue, it’s being talked about everywhere, by God. […] It’s now the rallying cry of the people at war with the rich.” [18]  » The attention paid to propaganda in favor of the general strike goes hand in hand with his growing interest in the evolution of the corporatist movement, particularly from 1894 onwards, when the limits of the tactics that the libertarians had followed until then became apparent. Furthermore, and in accordance with journalistic practices at the time, social criticism is also present.

The Father Peinard’s work appeared in the form of (more or less) weekly serials, lighthearted sketches written in the style of the Pouget publishing house: The Museum of Horrors (between August and October 1889), then Monsieur Dugourdeau in Search of the Best of Governments (between autumn 1889 and summer 1890), and finally a “speculative novel,” The Adventures of Father Peinard (from September 1890 to February 1891). In 1893, from January to early May, a new serial appeared, The 36 Misfortunes of a Magistrate, a short farce whose main character, Monsieur Beauterrier, is a “judge” at the “palace of injustice . ^“

Pouget’s stay in London, where he went to avoid appearing at the Trial of the Thirty, forced him to temporarily suspend publication of his weekly newspaper. This did not prevent him from publishing a series of small pamphlets, eight in all (from September 15, 1894, to January 15, 1895), which he managed to distribute in France, right under the noses of the authorities. Because they were written in his usual style, they are sometimes considered the “London series” of Père Peinard, even though they did not appear under the usual masthead but with a different title each time: “He’s Not Dead!”, “The ABCs of the Revolution”, “The Patriotic Slaughterhouse”, etc. In one of them, he asserts that the anarchists had “the grave error of restricting themselves too much to affinity groups,” which, he continues, “have no roots in the popular masses: being formed by guys whose ideas and aspirations are common, they have difficulty recruiting new members for the simple reason that, to want to join, one must be somewhat familiar with the ideas being discussed there ^,  ” a criticism he would take up again in 1903 in *The Bases of Syndicalism * (which can be found in this volume). And a little further on, he offers… Other libertarians of the time published serialized novels: this is the case of Louise Michel or Charles Malato, not to mention Michel Zévaco, a professional serial novelist.

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II. Pamphlet “A rogue, a rogue and a half”, October 1 ^, 1894, p. 5. His conception of what “the work of the Union should be”: “First, it must constantly keep an eye on the boss, prevent wage cuts and other underhanded dealings he plots. If the proles weren’t always on their guard, the monkeys [the bosses] would quickly have reduced us to eating bricks with stone sauce. Second, besides this daily grind, which is the usual fare, there’s another job, damn good: preparing the ground for the Social.” ^I  ” The “Charter” of Amiens will undoubtedly formulate the union’s “double task” differently, but it will say no less the same thing.

Practicing a kind of self-amnesty, Pouget returned to France shortly after Félix Faure came to power, although Faure’s pardons did not yet extend to anarchists. He immediately founded—”with 50 francs in his pocket,” according to an editor of La Revue blanche ^II —a new weekly, La Sociale, which was in reality merely a rebranded version of the previous one. The first issue of the “new” publication appeared on May 12, 1895, and differed from the previous one only in the (temporary) disappearance of Père Peinard, whose name no longer appeared at the end of the articles. Otherwise, nothing had changed. The newspaper featured a drawing on its cover every week and ran for four pages before expanding to eight from mid-October 1895. In its early issues, the publication devoted a regular column to the “forgotten of the amnesty,” all those anarchists who continued to languish in prisons despite the partial amnesties granted in recent years. Furthermore, true to its predecessor’s approach, Pouget’s publication remained as committed as ever to reporting on workers’ struggles, both in France and abroad. Like Père Peinard, it advocated entry I. Ibid. pp. 10-11.

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II. See “Revolutionaries.” La Revue blanche. October 1 ^, 1898. In this article, Achille Steens paints a portrait of some of the most famous anarchists of the time and devotes a few lines to Pouget (pp. 179-180). He discusses anarchists in the trade unions, praising their recent evolution since the split that occurred between, “on the one hand, the politicians: the Guesdists, the German-style socialists,” and, on the other hand, “the more straightforward guys, who were keen on the economic struggle […]. It was on the question of the general strike that the split occurred…” he writes, referring to the 1894 FNS congress ⁱⁿ Nantes between the “pure” trade unionists and the politicians. Curiously, the future deputy secretary of the CGT will not devote a single line of his publication to the constitution of the Confederation, born in Limoges in 1895 from the split that occurred at the congress of Nantes.

Beginning in May 1896, the newspaper published, over several issues, a series of articles which, collected in a pamphlet under the title ” Guesdist Variations,” were released at the end of July, on the eve of the London Congress. Using quotations, Pouget denounced the evolution of Guesde and his followers, who had quickly moved from their original insurrectionist positions to accepting universal suffrage as a tool for seizing public power. Furthermore, at the very moment the international congress in London opened, ” La Sociale” appeared with, on its front page, the slogan that Pouget would make famous in the years to come: “Sabotage [sic]. Bad pay… bad work! ^III  ,” followed by reflections inspired by an article in an Amiens employers’ newspaper, which had just asserted that this practice was completely foreign to French workers. Finally, the London congress gave rise to lengthy reports written under both his assumed and real names, which form the centerpiece of this year’s articles. It has been sufficiently emphasized in the books that the National Federation of Trade Unions and Corporate Groups of France and the Colonies was founded in 1886, under the impetus of the Guesdist faction.

It is more than likely that this disinterest was due to the strong presence of the Blanquists at the Limoges congress, for whom Pouget had only a very limited esteem.

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III. La Sociale, July 26-August 2, 1896, No. 64.

A brief historical overview of the importance of this congress, which saw the definitive separation of anarchists and socialists, is necessary to avoid dwelling on it excessively. It is worth recalling, however, that the former had used an ambiguity in the resolution calling for this congress as a pretext to attend not as representatives of anarchist groups, but as mandataries of the workers’ unions admitted to the congress without any discrimination ^. Thus, duly equipped with a number of union mandates (including that of the slate workers of Angers-Trélazé ⁾ , Pouget returned to London as part of a large French delegation that included all the leading anarchist activists of the time, such as Paul Delesalle, Jean Grave, Joseph Tortelier, Fernand Pelloutier , and ^others . Their numbers were so significant that, with the addition of the Allemanists, they roughly equaled those of the parliamentary socialists. The contacts established for the occasion between the generalist strike socialists of the POSR (Revolutionary Socialist Workers’ Party) of Allemane and the anarchists, the first propagandists in France of the new workers’ idea, were not long in bearing fruit.

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I. This resolution, adopted at the conclusion of the International Socialist Congress in Zurich (1893), stated: “All workers’ trade unions shall be admitted to the congress; also socialist parties and organizations that recognize the necessity of worker organization and political action.” Anarchists, hostile to political/parliamentary action, were thus excluded from the congress in advance, but they could nevertheless attend as representatives of the trade unions, provided that a semicolon was used after “shall be admitted to the congress.” A significant portion of the congress therefore focused on the interpretation of this semicolon (see, in particular, Jean Maitron, Paul Delesalle, un anar de la Belle Époque, Fayard, 1985, pp. 64–65).

II. La Sociale, August 2-9, 1896, No. 65. From its appearance, Le Père Peinard had been read by the workers of the slate quarries of Trélazé (La Révolte, October 19-25, 1889).

III. It seems that Pelloutier wished to leave his activist work at the Federation of Labor Exchanges for militant journalism. Shortly before, he and Pouget had signed an “Appeal to Comrades” in support of the creation of the daily newspaper La Clameur (La Sociale, April 5-12, 1896). According to Philippe Oriol, Bernard Lazare was involved in the project (Bernard Lazare, Stock, 2003, p. 127).

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The in-between period: the years 1897-1901

The final years of Père Peinard and his involvement in the trade union movement

From 1897 onwards, a year after his trip to London, Pouget no longer simply advocated for action within trade unions, but began to become resolutely involved in the confederation’s organizations, while continuing his activities as an anarchist propagandist. In 1897, holding several trade union mandates, he attended a CGT congress for the first time, the one held in Toulouse from September 20 to 25. He distinguished himself there primarily through his participation in the work of the commission tasked with addressing boycotts and sabotage, which included six anarchists, a “Blanquist,” and an independent. Paul Delesalle, also present at the London congress, was responsible for reading the report from the podium.

At the same time, Le Père Peinard, which reverted to its original title in October 1896 after the interlude of La Sociale, devoted considerable space to the event, and Pouget, under his own name, began his lengthy reports on confederation congresses, a style he would specialize in for La Voix du Peuple and Le Mouvement socialiste a few years later (this volume includes his report on the congress held in Bourges in 1904). Issue no. 50 of Le Père Peinard (October 3-10, 1897) featured a full-page headline: “Boycotts and Sabotage Acclaimed at the Toulouse Congress!” In two issues of the newspaper, Pouget recounts the proceedings of the congress and reproduces the entirety of the report read by Delesalle from the podium.

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I. One of these mandates came from the Paris trade union of hand-sewn shoemakers, a guild with a strong anarchist presence. II. Le Père Peinard, October 3-10, 1897, no. 50, p. 2.

According to the document published after the congress by the commission, and widely circulated by the CGT, this report was authored by three of its members, Pouget, Delesalle and Cumora, but it is generally accepted that it is essentially the work of Pouget alone. A year later, he again spoke about sabotage during the confederation congress in Rennes, which he reported on extensively in two successive issues of Père Peinard ^I.

During that same year, Le Père Peinard participated in the widespread international campaign of protest against the actions of the Spanish government, sparked by the publication of a long series of articles by Fernando Tarrida del Mârmol. This Catalan anarchist intellectual and Cuban patriot linked the atrocities committed in the Montjuïc prisons to the independence struggles in Cuba, Puerto Rico, and the Philippines. Le Père Peinard contributed the article “The Modern Inquisition in Spain,” in which Pouget detailed the torture methods used by the Spanish police.

In the same year, 1898, at the request of his friend Félix Fénéon, now the editor of La Revue blanche, he contributed an article to the journal on a subject that remained close to his heart: the infamous “villainous laws” that had severely impacted the anarchist movement a few years earlier. “The Application of the Exceptional Laws of 1893,” published in the July 15, 1898 issue, echoed the article “The Villainous Laws,” published in the previous issue and signed “a jurist,” which denounced the risk these laws posed to democracy and called for their repeal. In the January 15, 1899 issue, Pouget followed up his article with “documents on the application of the exceptional laws of 1893-1894.”

The following year, while the Dreyfus affair was in its full force, Pouget, who, like many anarchists, abandoned his initial positions ^.[1] for active support of the Dreyfusard camp, participates in the activities of a Revolutionary Coalition Committee which brings together libertarians such as Sébastien Faure, Charles Malato, Fernand Pelloutier, the writer Octave Mirbeau – whose sympathies for the anarchist movement are no secret – and “general strike” socialists such as Aristide Briand and Jean Allemane, who has resolutely committed himself with the POSR to the Dreyfusard camp. This activity leads to the creation, under the aegis of Sébastien Faure, of the Journal du Peuple, whose first issue appears on February 6, 1899. Sébastien Faure surrounds himself with numerous anarchist militants to run the daily newspaper – which is secretly financed, via Bernard Lazare, by the Committee for the Defense Against Anti-Semitism ^II.

Pouget, for his part, suspended publication of the second series of Père Peinard in May, after 129 more issues had already appeared, and he took on the role of editorial secretary for the “anarcho-Dreyfusard” daily. However, despite a few notable successes, such as revealing the circumstances of President Félix Faure’s death or organizing the boisterous anarchist demonstration of August 20, 1899, “in favor of truth, well-being, and emancipation,” the newspaper gradually saw its funds dwindle. On December 3, 1899, Le Journal du Peuple was published for the last time.

No sooner had this daily paper disappeared than Le Père Peinard began a third series in January 1900, but, probably very busy with the future launch of the CGT weekly, Pouget ended its publication in April, after having ensured the release of about fifteen issues. With this last delivery, dated from April 15 to 21, 1900, Pouget puts away once and for all the legendary shoemaker’s knife and foot-puller of Père Peinard in the toolbox, and abandons the clothes – and the tongue – of the shoemaker to don those of the propagandist and trade union leader. In January 1898, he still wrote (Le Père Peinard, no. 65, p. 2) that “the Dreyfus question left [him] cold” and in the following issue he addressed the libertarians thus: “Let us be ourselves! Neither Dreyfus supporters nor Esterhash supporters”.

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On the activities of this Defence Committee, see Bernard Lazare, by Philippe Oriol, op. cit., pp. 232-270.

Pouget can be proud of the work accomplished over the past ten years. He was able to maintain a regular weekly publication for his newspaper, at least as long as the authorities allowed him to: Le Père Peinard— and La Sociale, its incarnation from 1895-1896—ran three different series, and even a fourth if we include the eight small London pamphlets, not to mention L’Almanach du Père Peinard— the four annual supplements published from 1894 to 1899. Furthermore, he produced and distributed at least thirty placards and posters entitled “Le Père Peinard au populo,” each printed in more than twenty thousand copies ^. Finally, he can boast of the collaboration on these various publications of numerous renowned artists committed to anarchist ideas: Maximilien Luce, who was undoubtedly the most consistent of all, but also Camille Pissarro and his son Pierre, Signac, and several others contributed illustrations.

After Pere Peinard

The year 1900, the year of the Universal Exposition, in which Paris was to host both the CGT congress (which had opted to skip the 1899 congress) and a new international congress, marked a new stage in Pouget’s syndicalist career. In April, the anarchist press reported on the appeal of an “Initiative Committee,” on which he appeared alongside Fernand Pelloutier and the Dutchman Domela Nieuwenhuis, to organize a congress sponsored by revolutionary socialists and anarchists. The congress, which was to have taken place from September 19 to 22, was ultimately banned by the authorities, but this missed opportunity signaled Pouget’s definitive departure from the libertarian movement proper. In 1907, he and Georges Yvetot declined the invitation from the organizers of the anarchist congress in Amsterdam, who had hoped he would defend the tenets of French syndicalism. And, unlike Yvetot, who regularly contributes articles to Le Libertaire, he also ceases all collaboration with anarchist press organs.

On December 1 ^, 1900, following the decision made at the CGT congress held in Paris between September 10 and 14, the weekly newspaper was finally launched, under the title * La Voix du Peuple* (The Voice of the People), borrowed from one of the newspapers edited by Proudhon. For several years, CGT trade unionists, like those of the Federation of Labor Exchanges (Fédération des Bourses ^I) , had cherished the hope of a purely workers’ newspaper, preferably daily or, failing that, weekly. This desire had been expressed at the second ^CGT congress (Tours, 1896), then in Toulouse in 1897, and the following year in Rennes. At the Paris congress in 1900, Eugène Guérard once again advocated for the creation of a “revolutionary syndicalist newspaper,” but given the unions’ inability to sustain a daily publication at that time, they had to settle for a weekly, which would serve as the embryo of the future syndicalist daily. Pouget was part of the fifteen-member commission tasked with carrying out the project. Experienced in journalism, he quickly became the driving force behind the undertaking even before being appointed its head.

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I. The National Federation of Labor Exchanges was founded in 1892 to counter the FNS, which was controlled by the Guesdist faction. From 1895 to 1901, it was led by the libertarian Fernand Pelloutier, who made it the first French trade union organization, with a distinctly revolutionary and general strike-oriented inspiration.

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Pouget, full-time union member (1902-1908)

Deputy Secretary of the CGT and Director of La Voix du Peuple

Shortly after the confederal congress held in Lyon in 1901, the confederal committee met on November 26 to elect the Confederal Bureau I.

Victor Griffuelhes, from the Leather and Hide Federation, who was the only candidate, was elected to the position of general secretary; Pouget, candidate of the South-East Employees Federation, was preferred to Raoul Lenoir, by fifty-two votes against thirty. It is from this moment that the predominance of the revolutionary current over French trade unionism is generally dated, the “red” trade unionism being understood, which also implies a real revival of the General Confederation of Labour, which had only been barely surviving until then, overshadowed by the influence of the Federation of Exchanges.

From 1901 onward, following his appointment as assistant secretary of the CGT (General Confederation of Labour), Pouget wrote primarily for La Voix du Peuple (The Voice of the People). When he contributed to other publications—Le Mouvement socialiste (The Socialist Movement ) and later, La Tribune syndicale (The Trade Union Tribune), created by *L’Humanité in 1906, on the eve of the Amiens Congress—he always confined himself to topics related to the activities of the CGT. Among the most impactful texts Pouget contributed to * La Voix du Peuple*, the most notable was the article in which, under the auspices of the General Strike Committee, he responded to an essay by Jaurès in which the latter attempted the first structured critique of the idea of ​​a general strike. This “Reply to Jaurès,” which followed an initial, rather timid reaction, was then composed of the CGT secretary, the assistant secretary in charge of * La Voix du Peuple*, and the treasurer.

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II. Details taken from the official report of the XIIIth ^national corporate congress, p. 46.

Eugène Guérard’s article occupies the entire front page of the September 22nd and 29th issues of La Voix du Peuple. But he does not wish to make La Voix du Peuple an organ of purely theoretical debates, far from it. The following extract, taken from the report he presented on La Voix du Peuple at the Montpellier congress, gives a fairly precise idea of ​​what, in his eyes, the trade union newspaper should be: “The activists who become contributors to La Voix du Peuple do not realize enough that it is not more or less theoretical articles that give life to a newspaper, but rather the presentation of facts, the depiction of environments, the accurate documentation. ”

The Voice of the People cannot be content with being a simple ‘organ of education for activists,’ but must become ‘a propaganda sheet for the working masses,’ which gives ‘more importance to social facts, current events, and documents.’ Despite the limitations of which Pouget is very aware, The Voice of the People —which is read mainly by union leaders and especially by the most ‘red’ among them—keeps alive debates on pensions and on workers’ unity [III]. It publishes the responses to the survey on “the task of social reorganization” in the aftermath of the expropriating general strike, etc. Furthermore, it supports all the campaigns that a fiercely combative CGT will wage until the summer of 1908, including the fight against employment offices, for weekly rest and the eight-hour day.

Among the finest achievements of La Voix du Peuple, Paul Delesalle recalls these four-page special issues, published on the occasion of May Day, or the special anti-militarist issues published at the time of the “call-up of classes,” the “draft” — and then, after the latter’s abolition, the “revision board” — “those beautiful and unforgettable special issues” where the head chef of La Voix du Peuple was simply reusing the old recipes tested in the pots of Père Peinard ^I According to the report presented by Pouget in 1906, each of the anti-militarist issues was regularly printed in thirty thousand copies, while the “May Day” issues of 1905 and 1906 were printed in 85,000 and 70,000 copies respectively . All these issues are enhanced by the large front-page drawings provided by Steinlen, Couturier and Maximilien Luce, a faithful collaborator of Pouget since the days of Père Peinard, then Jules Grandjouan, who soon took charge of the cover illustration.

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II. Proceedings of the XIIIth ^corporate congress held in Montpellier; 1902, p. 87.

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III. That is to say, on the merger between the CGT and the Federation of Labor Exchanges, which took place in 1902 at the Montpellier congress

The text signed by the general strike committee is attributed to Pouget by Maxime Leroy, an excellent expert on the trade union movement and author of La Coutume ouvrière ([Giard and Brière, 1913], reissued by CNT-RP in 2007). However, we do not know if the pamphlet La Grève générale, published in 1900 and signed by the same committee, whose inspiration is very clearly libertarian, should also be attributed to Pouget.

However, important as they were, none of the movements mentioned above equals, even remotely, the long campaign in favor of the conquest of the eight-hour day, officially launched at the Bourges congress in 1904, which was truly the great affair of the CGT in the early years of the century. This campaign, launched on a proposal by a young activist, Raymond Dubéros, is truly the greatest success that can be attributed to the CGT before 1914. After this major movement, the CGT would still lead—but without Pouget—a few other large-scale movements, including the movement for the English weekly workweek, but without ever recapturing the inspiration and dynamism it had demonstrated, under the leadership of Pouget and Griffuelhes, during the period from the Bourges congress to May 1, ^1906. Delesalle, who also played a part, judged it in the following terms: “One had to have lived through that period alongside Pouget to know what a mastery—the word does not seem too strong to me—of propaganda he displayed then. Assisted by his alter ego Victor Griffuelhes, for nearly two years, they always managed to find something new to keep the mass of workers enthralled… ^{[2] [3]}  ”

We will not dwell unduly on this campaign, which is extensively discussed in the second part of this volume, entirely dedicated to the eight-hour day movement. Maurice Dommanget provided an excellent commentary on it in his seminal work of labor history, * Histoire du Premier Mai* (History of May Day ), where he does justice to Pouget’s actions. Here, we will simply note that, while Dubéros deserves credit for initiating the movement at the Bourges congress, it must also be acknowledged that Pouget had conceived the project well before, from the very beginning of the adventure of * La Voix du Peuple* (The Voice of the People). One need only consult the text he published in 1901 in the first special issue dedicated to May Day, when the confederation’s weekly newspaper was just six months old, to see that the future eight-hour day campaign was already fully formed in his mind. After, as was his custom, recalling the example of North American trade unionists in the struggle for the old workers’ demand, he wrote the following, envisioning a campaign lasting several years: “Like the Americans, we will have to, without truce or respite, organize meetings, launch manifestos, publish placards, flood the country with labels to be pasted everywhere, and all this incessant activity must be focused on this single objective: From May 1, ¹⁹⁰⁵ , French workers will work only eight hours a day. ^II  “

The year 1906 was undoubtedly the culmination of Pouget’s syndicalist career and, beyond that, the highest point in the history of French revolutionary syndicalism. It was doubly so, with the culmination of the eight-hour workday campaign and also with the holding of the confederation congress organized from October 8 to 13 in the city of Amiens, a congress that has gone down in history as the “Charter” Congress of Amiens, the name given retrospectively to the declaration drafted by the confederation committee and adopted on the morning of October 13. The origin of this resolution lies in the proposal made on behalf of the Textile Federation by Victor Renard, with a view to establishing ongoing relations between the CGT and the socialist party resulting from the unification of the previous year. The inclusion of this proposal on the congress agenda provoked a veritable outcry from labor activists, who saw in it a desire to bring the trade union movement back into the fold of political socialism. Their fears were all the more justified given that the Textile Federation had been in the hands of the Guesdist faction of socialists for four years, for whom the corporatist movement could be nothing other than “the primary school of socialism.” As soon as this proposal became known, Pouget opened the pages of La Voix du Peuple wide to a debate that would occupy the confederation’s circles from August until the congress itself, which would devote a good part of its sessions to it. Pouget himself participated, with an initial article entitled “Again!” » “, which will be followed by a few others, then in the “Trade Union Tribune” which L’Humanité inaugurated on August 11, 1906, and in which Pouget agreed to participate, with other well-known activists from the Confederation.

These lengthy debates culminated in the resolution read by Victor Griffuelhes, on behalf of the Confederal Committee, from the congress rostrum on the morning of October 13, 1906. This resolution contained the essence of French trade union doctrine, particularly its statutory independence from “any political school” ^{[4] [5]} and its conception of the dual, “daily and future” task of trade unionism: on the one hand, “increasing the well-being of workers through the implementation of immediate improvements,” and on the other, preparing for complete emancipation through the general strike. It reiterated that the trade union, “today a group of resistance, will, in the future, be the group of production and distribution, the basis of social reorganization.” Finally, the text of the resolution, reaffirming the syndicalist principle of direct action, declares that “economic action must be exercised directly against employers; the confederated organizations, as trade union groups, do not have to concern themselves with parties and sects which, outside and alongside them, can freely pursue social transformation.” ^II . Long after the Amiens congress, Griffuelhes would acknowledge himself, along with Pouget, as the author of the famous resolution, but, to be honest, its similarity to many passages in the pamphlets that can be read in the first part of this volume speaks volumes about the role Pouget must have played in its drafting. One could also add this allusion, so often commented upon, to “parties and sects,” a phrase that first appeared, during the controversy preceding the Amiens congress, in an article signed by Pouget in the “Tribune syndicale” of L’Humanité . ^I.

Trade union pamphlets (1903-1908) and other writings

Finally, it was during these great years that Pouget wrote his trade unionist pamphlets, the trilogy reproduced in this collection ( The Bases of Trade Unionism. The Trade Union and The Labour Party ^II ) then, in 1908, The General Confederation of Labour ^III , where, without neglecting doctrinal questions, he strives to make better known the main principles of organisation of the French workers’ confederation.

It is in these works, as well as in L’Action directe, published in 1910 (also reproduced in this volume), that we must look for the essence of the “doctrine” of syndicalism “in the French manner”, definitively established after the publication of this last work, which will also be Pouget’s last theoretical contribution to syndicalist doctrine.

The main themes of this doctrine are well known, and the Amiens motion contains almost all of them. It owes everything to the “organic” theorists of the labor movement ^:  the division of society into two large antagonistic classes, the capitalist class and the working class; the essential nature of the trade union, superior to parties or affinity groups; the dual nature of the trade union, which is both the tool of the daily struggle for material improvements and the basic organ of future social reorganization, and consequently, the dual nature of trade unionism, both reformist and revolutionary; the demand for direct action as the only effective means of workers’ struggle, in its various forms: primarily strikes, boycotts, labeling, ^and sabotage; and the affirmation of the general strike as the preeminent means of workers’ emancipation. Furthermore, Pouget’s pamphlets emphasize other essential themes of trade union doctrine, omitted from the Amiens motion: the role of active minorities and force as driving forces of history. On the other hand, confederal antimilitarism does not appear in the four brochures reproduced here, except in the form of the denunciation of the “patriotic brake”, formulated in The Bases of Syndicalism.

During these same years, Pouget also contributed some important writings to the Socialist Movement, primarily his lengthy reports of the confederal congresses of Montpellier (1902), Bourges (1904) and Amiens (1906) ^IV , which contain interesting details on ^[5] questions of doctrine, not forgetting the numerous articles on the movement for the eight-hour day. It is also worth adding his great essay on the history of the idea of ​​the general strike, which appears in the dossier that Lagardelle’s journal dedicated, in 1904, to the debate on the central idea of ​​syndicalism, in which both its supporters and its critics, French or foreign ^, participated.

Pouget’s last public activities (1909-1914)

After the bloody events of July 30, 1908, in Villeneuve-Saint-Georges, which earned Pouget and several other union leaders a stay of several weeks in the Corbeil prison, Pouget practically ceased writing for La Voix du Peuple, with the exception of the article “Proportional Representation: Hope for the Reactors,” published anonymously during his detention, and then “The Collapse,” in November 1908, where he highlighted the collapse of the arguments put forward by the government to justify the imprisonments that followed the events of July 30 and called for the release of the eight activists still imprisoned. It would be the following year before he contributed another article to the confederation’s newspaper, “The Revolutionary Value of May Day,” published anonymously in the “May Day” issue, with which the editors of La Voix du Peuple intended to outdo Louis Niel, who was still at that time the general secretary of the CGT, author of the (unsigned) article “The reformist value of May Day”.

Some three months earlier, in February 1909, Pouget, after resigning from his position within the CGT, attempted to finally realize his old project of a daily newspaper, which had accompanied all his propaganda activity since 1888, a project which seemed all the more necessary as the socialists had their own daily newspaper since the launch of L’Humanité in April 1904. The context of the founding of the workers’ newspaper was not the most favorable since it coincided with the beginning of what is commonly called the “syndicalist crisis”, which arose in the aftermath of the events of Villeneuve-Saint-Georges and manifested itself crudely, once the daily newspaper was launched, by the surprising accession of the reformist Louis Niel to the secretariat of the workers’ confederation. But, in truth, Pouget’s project had been gestating before the events of the summer of 1908: according to the editor of Les Hommes du jour, the first issue of the daily newspaper should have appeared in September 1908, but the events in Draveil-Villeneuve-Saint-Georges decided otherwise. The “daily newspaper of social struggle” finally saw the light of day in February 1909 under the name La Révolution. Pouget’s original idea was to title it Le Cri du peuple, like Jules Vallès’s publication, but the owner of the title, which was still published “every three months in half a dozen copies,” refused to give it up.

While the events in Villeneuve-Saint-Georges and the arrest of the main leaders of the CGT caused the postponement of the publication of the trade union daily until the beginning of the following year, the desire to launch a daily newspaper, trade unionist certainly but independent of the Confederation, undoubtedly marked Pouget’s wish to distance himself from the CGT’s structures and the numerous constraints linked to holding positions of responsibility. The first issue of the daily appeared on February 4, 1909, and the list of its future contributors seemed to bode well for its future. The “social and literary chronicles” announced the participation of, among many others, Hubert Lagardelle, Charles Malato, Sébastien Faure, as well as Errico Malatesta and the former activist of the Jura Federation, James Guillaume; The “workers’ chronicles” were to open their columns to all the leading figures of the French revolutionary syndicalist movement, and finally, the “social and revolutionary movement abroad” promised articles by Luigi Fabbri, Emílio Costa, Fernando Tarrida del Mármol, and another former member of the First International, Anselmo Lorenzo: in short, the cream of the crop of Latin anarchism. During its very brief existence, La Révolution would mix articles of pure union/worker information with more theoretical pieces, but the two events that would occupy the most space were the election of the reformist Louis Niel to the CGT secretariat and the postal workers’ strike, which began in mid-March. However, on March 28, 1909, after fifty-six issues, La Révolution announced the discontinuation of its publication, despite having already reached a circulation of [a certain size].

I. At least, that is what Pierre Monatte suggested in the last article he contributed to La Révolution prolétarienne shortly before his death. In these pages, Monatte also hinted that Pouget had probably begun to feel the need to distance himself somewhat from his counterpart in the CGT, Victor Griffuelhes, a figure whose authoritarian tendencies were well known. The text is collected in La Lutte syndicale, François Maspero, 1976, pp. 62-127.

An average of thirty thousand copies circulated, including more than five thousand in Paris. These figures, undoubtedly respectable, were not enough to sustain the newspaper due to insufficient initial funding. Monatte, who believed that “instead of dying after forty days, La Révolution could have had a long life,” nevertheless judged the newspaper “poorly written” and “poorly put together,” an assessment that strikes us as excessively harsh. “It was a fine paper, combative, ardent. It lacked only the sinews of war,” wrote Victor Méric ^I.

In the last months of 1909, Pouget published the astonishing book How We Will Make the Revolution, signed with the leader of the Parisian electricians’ union, Émile Pataud — the one whom the press sometimes nicknamed “King Pataud” or “the king of shadows” or even “the star extinguisher” — the man who plunged the City of Light into darkness for two hours in August 1908. Despite the difficulties in which a unionism that seems to be retreating is struggling, Pouget does not hesitate to imagine what the realization of the revolutionary project of the unionists could be, the expropriating and violent general strike acclaimed in workers’ congresses for more than twenty years. The book provoked quite strong negative reactions, particularly from Jean Jaurès who, on November 29th, delivered a lecture at the Salle des Sociétés Savantes, where he offered a critical analysis of the book. Pouget, ever ready to fire back, responded almost immediately in * La Guerre sociale*. More unexpected—and undoubtedly more painful for him—were the criticisms he received from within his own camp, from Griffuelhes and Lagardelle, who reproached him for this foray into the realm of the imagination. Finally, in 1910, his return to fiction also took place, in another form, with the serialized novel La Calotte, published by J. Ferenczi, a genre to which he returns after a few years’ interruption.

I. Le Soir, July 26, 1931. The text is reproduced in the small volume compiled by Paul Delesalle Émile Pouget Ad Memoriam (op. dt, p. 19).

Without wishing to minimize what the failure of La Révolution may have represented for Pouget — one of the greatest heartbreaks of his life, according to Delesalle — it remains nonetheless true that what we know of his trajectory from 1909 to 1914 shows a Pouget who is quite far from resembling the image of this tired and sick militant, keeping himself apart from the milieu in which he immersed himself for a little over ten years, as described by historians, starting with Jean Maitron ^I. Pouget certainly abandoned all active role in the CGT and, moreover, he ostentatiously kept himself apart from the spokespeople of syndicalism. He did not participate in the organs of revolutionary syndicalism, neither in La Vie ouvrière of Monatte and his friends—though so close to him in so many respects—nor in La Bataille syndicaliste, the daily launched in February 1911, reserving his prose for a weekly like La Guerre sociale, little favored by syndicalist leaders, and even in L‘Humanity, although he only collaborates with it as a serial writer.

However, he continued to follow the development of trade unionism very closely, taking an interest in workers’ struggles and the most recent changes in the organization of work, as evidenced by the publication, from 1910 onwards, of several trade union pamphlets–important ones such as the already mentioned Direct Action , Sabotage ^I , or even the small work The Organization of Overwork (the Taylor system), whose release is announced at the end of 1913. With a few exceptions, his weekly column in La Guerre sociale, announced at the end of August, deals with workers’ struggles and the organic life of the CGT.

I. The failure of the Revolution, he writes, “wounded Pouget forever. At fifty years old, physically tired and, even more so, morally tired, Pouget withdrew to Lozère in Seine-et-Oise and, from then on, lived apart from the movement, receiving only a few old friends” (“The Men of the Charter”, in 1906. The Congress of the Charter of Amiens, op. de, p. 75).

Pouget, observer of unionism, from 1910 to 1914

No ivory tower, then, for Pouget in the years immediately following the failure of La Révolution. Nor was he discouraged, as one reads here and there, by the supposed evolution of the CGT towards reformism, of which Louis Niel’s accession to the post of general secretary was supposedly only one harbinger. Here, moreover, is how he greeted this surprising election in the pages of La Révolution : “The head of the Confederation has changed. The reformists are ousting the revolutionaries. Does this mean that the CGT is going to be turned inside out—like a glove—and become, henceforth, reformist? Come now! Those who expect this about-face know nothing about trade union organization. […] The constituent elements of the Confederation are, for the most part, revolutionary. […] Niel’s election will change nothing in the trade union mentality.” ^II

His opinion does not seem to have changed a year later, at the time of the 1910 confederation congress in Toulouse, which he attended as a special correspondent for La Guerre sociale, alongside Miguel Almereyda. In the article entitled “The Confederal Push,” he provides a statistical analysis of the respective importance of the two tendencies present within the CGT, from which it emerges that the revolutionary current still held a large majority within the Confederation. Pouget particularly emphasizes the stagnation, or even the decline, in the membership of the reformist federations and the rise of revolutionaries, including the Building Federation, which more than doubled its membership in two years. He reiterated this observation two years later, in 1912, at the Le Havre congress, noting that “the confederation’s expansion is still proceeding in a revolutionary direction . ^“  He therefore had no concerns about the possibility of the reformists seizing control of the CGT. ^{I. II.} I. To this must be added the re-editions of some older pamphlets, such as La Confédération générale du travail, a new, updated edition of which appeared in that same year, 1910.

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II. “Ministerial Victory!” La Révolution, no. 25, February 25, 1909, p. I. It should be noted that Niel would only remain in office until the end of May 1909.

However, despite his conviction regarding the neutralization of reformists within the CGT, Pouget could not help, from this year 1912, to make increasingly bitter judgments on the limits of the action of the CGT and, more generally, on the moral state of its militants. In “CGT Assessment,” he notes the manifestly defensive nature of all the campaigns it has waged in recent years: against the pension reform, against the war, against the high cost of living, against draconian laws, and so on. The CGT, he says, has conducted only one “offensive confederate action”—the campaign for the English week—but he judges it “colorless and dull,” a far cry from the “period of effervescent action” of the eight-hour week campaign. Later, echoing Griffuelhes’s statements on the “unease” within the CGT, he observes “a lack of close camaraderie, excellent cordiality, and fraternal communion among activists” in a fourth text where he finally addresses the issue of the “trade union crisis,” on which he had maintained a surprising silence up to that point.

Finally, in September 1913, he diagnosed a “failure of ideals” within the Confederation, evident in his view in the negligence it showed regarding “the work of revolutionary preparation,” in the disinterest it displayed concerning “the fatal deadline: the revolutionary general strike” — the “last part of the task” — in favor of the sole “work of organization, consolidation, strengthening of its cadres” ^I. His disenchantment seems even to rise a notch the following year, when he reports on the clashes that are tearing apart one of the most revolutionary federations of the CGT, the Metallurgy, under the effect of what he calls “the dissolving campaign of anti-bureaucratism” unionism, of which one of the most brilliant union activists of the time, Alphonse Merrheim, is a victim.

The last writings of Pouget, serial writer for L’Humanité  : from Nico (1913) to The Entombed (1916)

In 1913, Pouget, still drawn to fiction, contributed a serial novel to Jaurès’s newspaper, the first installment of which appeared on January 25, the very day L’Humanité expanded to six pages instead of the four it had maintained since its founding. Pouget’s “great unpublished novel,” titled Nico, ran daily until June 16 , 1913. While the novel, based on the usual tropes of this genre, was not particularly original, its publication in the “new” L’Humanité allowed the socialist daily to score a point against its working-class rival, La Bataille syndicaliste, whose newsstand sales were declining at the same time as L’Humanité ‘s were increasing significantly in the Paris region. Pouget’s collaboration with the socialist publication would not end there. He was announced on the front page of L’Humanité during the first year of the CGT (General Confederation of Labour). La Guerre sociale, September 3-9, 1913. For several days, Pouget’s new story, Fleurette, set in Paris in 1871, began its serialization on July 10, 1914. But readers would never know the end: after the August 1st issue ^, which opened with the news of Jaurès’s assassination, the newspaper was reduced to only two pages and ceased publication of Pouget’s serial. His career as a serial writer was not over, however: from May 14 to October 16, 1915, the socialist daily published Pouget’s “great novel about the war,” Vieille Alsace, which L’

Humanity presents it as “the bloody epic of battles from which must emerge the freedom of nations and the peace of peoples who will make this gigantic war the last of all wars.” Finally, between August 14 and December 8, 1916, L’Humanity publishes The Walled In, another “great topical novel.” This is the last work, to our knowledge, from the hitherto inexhaustible pen of Émile Pouget. It is true that the old libertarian trade unionist had, alas, finally laid down his arms in the preceding years. Old Alsace, which is in truth nothing more than a patriotic serial, falls squarely within the line of his astonishing stance of the summer of 1914, when , from August 7 to September 6 , he contributed a column entitled “The Street” to La Guerre sociale , where he adopted the position of “revolutionary patriotism” championed by Gustave Hervé’s newspaper.

Nature and destiny of syndicalist doctrine

An unexpected embrace of a “revolutionary patriotism” that would have amused the old-timer, the writing of patriotic and sentimental serialized novels—one might have dreamed of a more glorious end for old Pouget, the “most famous of revolutionary theorists.” ^In the biographical note he wrote on the occasion of his death, Paul Delesalle, his companion from those heroic times, had not a word for this last episode of his public career, of which he must still have had some recollection. But this is not merely a passing aberration, attributable to disillusionment after a long journey of over thirty years, some of which must have felt twice as long, judging by the portrait by Delannoy that graced the 1909 issue of Les Hommes du jour dedicated to Pouget, depicting a tired and prematurely aged man. In truth, the entire syndicalist elite, with the exception of the small core group around Pierre Monatte in La Vie ouvrière, failed at that moment, accepting the game of the Sacred Union, against all the congress decisions of previous years and despite all the energy expended on the anti-militarist struggle.

From this terrible moral bankruptcy—a consequence, it is true, of the long and obscure syndicalist crisis that closely followed the momentous year of 1906—syndicalism “in the French style” could not emerge unscathed. And indeed, despite the efforts of a few, it became clear after 1918 that the almost universal rallying of revolutionary syndicalists to the Sacred Union had sealed the fate, at least in France, of that particular brand of syndicalism. From then on, the project of an autonomous and revolutionary workers’ movement gave way to the heirs of its pre-war rivals, the losers of the Amiens Congress, reformists of every stripe, and neo-Guesdists of the French Communist Party who advocated subordinating syndicalism to the vanguard political party.

Once revolutionary syndicalism had disappeared, or nearly so, from the French social landscape, it became customary to simply label it “anarcho-syndicalist,” and a historian like Édouard Dolléans did not hesitate to consider Pouget as “the first of all anarcho-syndicalists, the first anarcho-syndicalist.” And yet, neither he nor any of his syndicalist friends ever adopted the term themselves.

In truth, it was the very detractors of syndicalist doctrine, the Guesdists foremost among them, who considered it from the outset as a pure and simple variant of anarchism: Guesde and his followers constantly asserted that revolutionary syndicalism did not exist, that it was nothing more than “anarchist syndicalism,” “anarcho-syndicalism,” a term they were among the first to use in France. As for the spokespeople for syndicalism, whether working-class activists or intellectuals of the Socialist Movement, they tended to consider it a new theory, distinct from both socialism and anarchism: this was the position of Latapie in his speech at the Amiens ^I Congress or of Lagardelle in the text “Syndicalism and Anarchism” ^II —who could speak about it all the more freely since, like all the intellectuals of the Socialist Movement ^III , he was completely unfamiliar with the libertarian tradition.

Pouget’s position is more difficult to define, since, not being particularly inclined towards ideological debates, he practically never directly addressed the question of the relationship between anarchism and syndicalism, except in a brief passage from his report on the Amiens ^IV congress. One might be tempted to believe that, at some point, he definitively “converted” to syndicalism, overcoming his early anarchism once and for all: with his rise to positions of responsibility within the CGT, he ceased writing for the publications of libertarian groups, participating in their congresses, and even explicitly identifying himself as such in the pages of Père Peinard or La Sociale. As for his syndicalist doctrine, it is clearly still very much imbued with the anarchism of his early militant years, as evidenced, among other things, by the origin of his critique of the theory of the social contract and of social Darwinism presented in The Bases of Syndicalism. And the same could be demonstrated with regard to many other notions, including those of “life” or “will,” which are as important to him as they are to certain libertarian theorists, such as Kropotkin in Anarchist Morality.

However, one only needs to read his syndicalist writings to see how strong the anarchist influence is, most often implicit, and very explicitly in his reference to the historical roots of syndicalism, to the actions of those whom, in The Party of Labor, he calls the “federalists” or the “autonomists” of the First International—in other words, the so-called “anti-authoritarian” faction of Mikhail Bakunin’s followers. In reality, there is no “conversion” to syndicalism in his work, strictly speaking, but rather a fundamentally linear evolution that leads him from a kind of anarchism already strongly syndicalist to a syndicalism imbued with an anarchist spirit: this is undoubtedly what Delesalle had in mind when he spoke, so aptly, of “the moral unity of his militant life.”

All the strong points of his syndicalist doctrine, without exception, are already present in his previous period: whether it be the emphasis on the role of force in history or the importance given to the action of minorities; the defense of sabotage and the strike as tools of the daily struggle of the working class or that of the general strike as the supreme weapon of its emancipation; the critique of the supposed iron law of wages or the distinction between affinity groups and the corporatist grouping, the dual nature of the union, all this appears “the revolutionary ends pursued by the unions are identified with the anarchist ideal” (1st Syndicalist Congress of Amiens, op. cit., pp. 101-102).

I. That being said, in the debates in which he participates, his opponents continue to regard him as one of the most authoritative representatives of the libertarian element of the Confederation and, unlike reformed ex-anarchists like Louis Niel, Pouget never renounces his first convictions.

But, however strong his libertarian roots may be, it is clear that Pouget saw very early on in syndicalism — rightly or wrongly — the practical realization of anarchism, its only historical chance, and that is why he resolutely committed himself to the syndicalist path, even if it meant moving away from a “pure” anarchism in which he had never fully recognized himself. In this direction, French trade unionism has undoubtedly reconnected with the inspiration of the anarchist faction of the First International, but it has also made the most of the lessons it learned from the English labor movement, with which it shares an aversion to state intervention in labor disputes, and to which it owes a good part of its weapons of struggle, the boycott or sabotage, not to mention the supreme weapon of worker emancipation, the general strike, a distant legacy of the old Chartism of 1830. Its rivals and enemies undoubtedly had every interest in denouncing direct action trade unionism as disguised anarchism, but this was to make light of the deeply revolutionary and deeply reformist concern of trade unionism as understood by Pouget and the other trade union leaders, far removed from the “all or nothing” of the pure doctrinaires.

Pouget, and his companions along with him, must have known that the only chance of success for trade unionism lay in its ability to unite workers far beyond the sphere of influence of “parties and sects” and to draw them into those major offensive actions which, however “reformist” they might be, could have the virtue of making the workers a class proud of itself and convinced of its capacity to act by and for itself. If trade unionism “in the French style” had been merely that variant of anarchism denounced by its rivals and enemies, it is quite clear that the CGT would never have experienced the extraordinary momentum it enjoyed during the last years of the 19th century, which saw its membership increase tenfold and become a real threat to the public authorities and the ruling classes of the time.

The texts by Émile Pouget reproduced here were written, as we have seen, between 1903 for * Les Bases du syndicalisme * and 1910 for *L’Action directe*. It seems unnecessary to dwell on their historical significance, especially since the French syndicalist movement, almost definitively defeated after 1917-1918, has survived only in the memory of small, relatively insignificant groups and the very few intellectuals who have since claimed it as their own, such as Simone Weil or Albert Camus, in the beautiful passage he devoted to it in * L’Homme révolté ^I* . Are we therefore condemned to a simple exercise in memory, or nostalgia, which would have as its sole aim to spare the French trade union movement of action, or direct and related movements the place that belongs to them in the “lost treasure” of the revolutionary tradition, or is it still reasonable to expect support from them for today’s struggles and to seriously believe in a possible renewal of the methods of struggle and the objectives that they popularized before the success met by the social-democratic model against which they were formed?

For their part, historians of the French labor movement, almost all of whom have never shown the slightest sympathy for revolutionary syndicalism, have already answered the question in the negative, seeing in direct-action syndicalist movements the mere reflection of still largely pre-industrial economic structures, destined to be “naturally” superseded by the evolution of modern capitalism and the subsequent disappearance of the skilled worker—essential in the syndicalism of the “heroic age”—in favor of the mass worker of “modern times,” who for a long time provided the basis for social-democratic organizations. This schema, adopted by the ideologues of the various variants of political socialism, has lent credence to the idea that direct-action syndicalism was a kind of “youthful indiscretion” of the labor movement or, in the communist version of history, the “seed” of the vanguard party, of which it constituted only a clumsy and romantic prefiguration .

Moreover, by mitigating the class struggle, the “Fordist” compromise established after the end of the Second World War between capital and labor, materialized by the creation of the welfare state, seemed to condemn once and for all the actually existing trade unionism to being nothing more than an instrument of social peace, definitively removing from the labor movement all the “negativity” with which it was still burdened in the decades prior to 1945. It is clear, however, that we are no longer there today, at a historical moment where the new development model of advanced capitalist countries has shattered the compromise made between capital and labor during the period following the Second World War.

One of the main effects of this process was to put an end to the homogenization that characterized the wage-earning world of the Fordist compromise, to fragment and disperse the subaltern classes into heterogeneous categories (stable wage earners, the unemployed, precarious workers of all kinds), accelerating the decay of class solidarities in favor of individual survival or a retreat to ethnic, national or religious solidarities, foreign to all the ideas of social emancipation bequeathed by the workers’ movement of the past. From this ensued a growing weakening of the organizations defending the dominated classes, already blunted by decades of compromise and complicity — of “domestication”, to use the expression of the unionists of the “Belle Époque” — and hampered in their action by their dependence on public and private subsidies, by their extreme bureaucratization and centralization, by the corruption of some of their leaders, etc., all phenomena which mark the current exhaustion of the inherited modes of union organization.

Faced with the planned regression by the power elites, the brutality of the neoconservative policies that followed the end of the golden age of capitalism, and the futility of the political opposition of a

Ideologically disarmed, the “left” would be unreasonable to think that trade unionism, or at least its healthiest segment, could simply remain the wise social partner it was during prosperous years and the docile facilitator of the ruling elites’ deceptive “reforms.” It would also be unreasonable to imagine that it could fail to rediscover its old weapons of yesteryear ^— and not just the sabotage employed today by workers desperate to see their jobs disappear—such as the principles that made trade unionism great during its “heroic age” and that still make it the only alternative model to the dominant one for decades.

Miguel Chueca
Paris, June 2010

Unless otherwise stated, all notes are from the publisher. The main names mentioned (indicated by an asterisk at the first occurrence) are the subject of a notice in the glossary, pp. 277-288.

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Part One: Principles and theories of direct action syndicalism

The first part of this volume contains Émile Pouget’s four main syndicalist pamphlets published between 1903 and 1910. Written, for the first three (and a good part of the fourth), when Pouget was deputy secretary of the CGT (General Confederation of Labour), they contain the essential elements of the doctrine of direct action syndicalism, of “French-style syndicalism,” as developed by the Confederation’s “organic” theorists. This same doctrine is found condensed in the famous motion adopted at the conclusion of the CGT congress in October 1906, the “Charter” of Amiens, the result of a collaboration between Pouget and the CGT’s general secretary, Victor Griffuelhes*. Deeply imbued with the spirit of revolt that the anarchists brought with them to the trade unions, these writings provide the most accurate picture of the dominant inspiration of French syndicalism in the early years of the 20th ^century .

I. The Foundations of Syndicalism

Definition of Syndicalism

The word “syndicalism” has recently acquired a broader meaning than its etymology suggests. Its original, concrete meaning persists; the word continues to describe “supporters of trade union organization.” But now, in addition to this nebulous and colorless definition, which, with a bit of flexibility, could just as easily label ” yellow unionists ^“ as “red unionists , ” it has acquired a new and very precise meaning.

The word “syndicalism” has become a generic term, expressing a “moment” in workers’ consciousness. This epithet is claimed by those workers who, having shed their morbid and deceptive conceptions, have acquired the conviction that improvements—whether partial or extreme—can only result from popular force and will. On the ruins of sheep-like hopes and beliefs in miracles that underpin superstitions—both in statist and divine providence—they have developed a sound and truly humane doctrine rooted in an honest observation and interpretation of social phenomena.

The syndicalist is, quite clearly, a supporter of organizing workers into unions. However, he does not conceive of the union as some do, who narrow its scope of action to the point of leaving the group with no horizon other than daily discussion or dispute with the employer; and this on secondary, fleeting demands, never questioning the legitimacy of worker exploitation. Nor does he conceive of the union as others do, who see it only as a “primary school of socialism ^[6]  ” where activists are trained and recruited for efforts deemed effective—such as the conquest of public power.

For the syndicalist, the union is the group par excellence, meeting all needs, all aspirations and, by that very fact, sufficient for all tasks. It is the group, as imagined by the “reformists”: allowing them to fight day after day against the boss for improvements and detailed demands. But it is not only that! It is also the group capable of carrying out the work of capitalist expropriation and social reorganization ^[7] which the socialists, deluded by confidence in the State, expect from the taking possession of political power.

Therefore, for the syndicalist, the union is not an association of circumstance, whose raison d’être, limited to the current environment, would be inconceivable in isolation from that environment. For him, the union is the initial and essential grouping; it must emerge spontaneously and develop in all environments, and this, independently of any preconceived theory. Indeed, what could be more normal for those exploited in the same profession than to come together, to understand each other, to unite in defense of common and immediately tangible interests?

On the other hand, assuming the annihilation of capitalist society and the flourishing, on its ruins, of a society — communist or other ^II —, it is quite obvious that, even in this case, in this new environment, the grouping that will indicate itself as the most urgent, the most indispensable, will be the one that will bring into contact men engaged in identical or similar work and functions. Thus, the union – the corporate group – appears as the organic cell of any society.

Currently, for the syndicalist, the union is the body for workers’ struggle and demands against their employers. In the future, it will be the foundation upon which a normal society, free from exploitation and oppression, will be built.

Workers’ struggles in the 19th century: The beginnings of syndicalism

The syndicalist conception is not derived from a hypothetical system, concocted in some mind and unjustified by sociological experimentation; it stems from the historical examination of facts and their clear-sighted interpretation, from the examination of economic issues and to divert its activity towards the disappointing hopes of democratism. It can be said to be the result and the culmination of a whole century of struggles waged by the working class against the bourgeoisie.

Throughout the 19th century , the proletariat strove to disentangle its actions from those of purely political bourgeois parties. This was a considerable effort, for the bourgeoisie, needing the proletariat’s consent or indifference to govern smoothly, endeavored not only to combat and massacre it when it rose up against the exploiters, but also to pacify it through a cunning education designed to dissuade it from adopting the communist system (common ownership of the means of production and the products of collective labor). As for the followers of Karl Marx, it is well known that they initially claimed to be communists, a ideology reviled by Proudhon and Bakunin. However, from the 1880s onwards, only the socialists who supported political action – in France, the “possibilities” of Paul Brousse* and the Guesdists (called “impossibilists” derisively) – still claimed to be “collectivists”.

It cannot be stressed enough that the work of autonomous workers’ organization has been – and still is! – thwarted by all the forces of obscurantism and reaction, and also by the democratic forces which are, under a new and hypocritical guise, only the continuation of the old societies where a handful of parasites flourish, lavishly maintained by the forced labor of unconscious plebs. The bourgeoisie, through the state, whose function (independent of form) is to safeguard capitalist privileges, has devoted itself to the task of stifling and diverting the aspirations of the working class. Thus, in the course of these emancipatory attempts, the proletariat has been led to recognize the similarity between the governments, of varying labels, that it has endured; it has passed from one regime to another without feeling the changes in scenery that history records with gravity. All governments have treated it with animosity and malevolence. If it has obtained from them any alleviation of its miserable lot, it owes this not to their feelings of justice or pity, but to the salutary fear it has inspired in them. To their initiative, it owes only draconian legislation, arbitrary measures, and savage repressions.

This antagonistic relationship between the state and the working class dominated the entire 19th century . It becomes fully apparent when one observes that governments, as a bone to pick, readily granted political rights to the people, while remaining inflexible when it came to economic freedoms. In the latter case, they only yielded under popular pressure. This difference in attitude on the part of the leaders is understandable. On closer inspection, the recognition of political rights for the people does not bother them, since these trifles do not jeopardize the principle of authority and do not undermine the proletarian base of society.

The situation is different when it comes to economic freedoms. These are a real asset for the people, and they can only be acquired at the expense of the privileged. It is therefore understandable that the State, the supporter of capitalism, refuses, to the bitter end, to concede even a fraction of economic improvement. Demonstrating this ongoing struggle of the working class against the state would lead to invoking the martyrology of the people. A few historical milestones will suffice to indicate the veracity and constancy of this antagonism.

Less than two years after the storming of the Bastille (in June 1791), the bourgeoisie, through its constituent assembly, stripped the working class of the right of association which it had only just won. The workers had seen in the Revolution only the dawn of economic liberation. They had thought that by burning the toll barriers of the second octroi (July 12, 1789), they were destroying all barriers. It is worth adding that, two days after the burning of the Paris tollbooths, the Bastille was stormed, not because it was a political prison, but because it was a danger to insurgent Paris, just as Mont-Valérien had been in 1871

The Le Chapelier Law; passed on June 17, 1791 [editor’s note]. Indeed, the Le Chapelier Law repealed a decree issued on August 21, 1790, which granted all “citizens the right to assemble peacefully and to form free societies among themselves” (quoted in Maxime Leroy, La Coutume ouvrière, Giard et Brière, 1913, republished in 2007 by Éditions CNT-RR, p. 635). This law prohibited guilds, journeymen’s associations, workers’ coalitions, and the right to strike.

The octroi was an indirect tax levied by municipalities on the importation of goods into their territory. The term also referred to the administration responsible for collecting this tax. It controlled each city gate using barriers often arranged between symmetrical pavilions. The octroi was not definitively abolished until 1943.

The workers, taking the pamphleteers’ dithyrambs at face value, believed themselves freed from the shackles of the Old Regime. They therefore began to come to an understanding and organize themselves to resist employer exploitation, and quickly came to formulate specific demands. The bourgeoisie soon proved to them that the Revolution was merely political and not economic. It drafted repressive laws, and since the workers lacked awareness and experience, and since their agitation was confused and still incoherent, it was not difficult for the bourgeoisie to thwart this movement.

It would be wrong to assume that the Le Chapelier Law was a mere “expedient” and that those who voted for it were unaware of its social implications. To make us swallow this fanciful interpretation, it is argued that the revolutionaries of the time raised no protest against it. Their silence simply demonstrates that they were ignorant of the social dimension of the revolution they were experiencing and were merely pure democrats. Moreover, such a considerable lack of foresight on their part is hardly surprising, since even today we see men claiming to be socialists who are, themselves, nothing more than simple democrats.

Moreover, as proof that the parliamentarians of 1791 knew what they were doing, a few months later, in September 1791, the Constituent Assembly supplemented the Le Chapelier law, which only prohibited coalitions for industrial workers, with a law that prohibited them for agricultural workers. The Constituent Assembly was not alone in demonstrating its hatred of the working class. All subsequent assemblies strove to tighten the shackles binding workers to employers. Even worse, finding it insufficient to have prevented workers from discussing and defending their interests, the bourgeois assemblies went to great lengths to further aggravate the plight of the proletariat by placing them under the absolute control of the police.

The Convention itself showed no more sympathy for the working class. In Nivôse of Year II (January 1794), it legislated “against coalitions between workers of different factories, whether through written agreements or emissaries, aimed at inciting a work stoppage.” This stance of the Convention, whose revolutionary fervor is so highly praised, clearly indicates that political opinions have nothing to do with economic interests. What makes this even clearer is that, despite the changing forms of government—from the democratic approach of the Convention to the autocracy of Napoleon I ^, the monarchism of Charles X, and the constitutionalism of Louis-Philippe—the severity of the laws enacted against workers never diminished.

Under the Consulate (in year XI-1803), a new link in the chain of slavery was forged: Booklet ^I , which instituted the registration of the working class. Then, with their cunning and unscrupulous legal expertise, the jurists who drafted the Code from which we still suffer arranged the shackles that bound and gagged the proletariat so effectively that Louis XVIII and Charles X, heirs to this legacy, had little need to aggravate them. However, despite the severe legal prohibitions, workers came to an understanding, formed groups, and, through seemingly innocuous means—such as mutual aid societies—established embryonic unions that organized resistance. This reached a point where, as coalitions and strikes multiplied, the liberal government of Louis-Philippe exaggerated the penalties imposed by law against associations (in 1834). But the die was cast! This resurgence of legal severity did not hinder the workers’ momentum. Despite the law, resistance societies proliferated, and a period of increasing unrest and numerous strikes ensued.

I. The worker’s booklet was a means of social control, introduced in 1781 under pressure from guilds and the police. It was a small notebook that identified the worker and recorded their comings and goings at the homes of their successive employers. Any worker who traveled without this document was considered a vagrant and could be arrested and punished as such. The employer kept the booklet for the entire time the worker was employed, and the worker therefore could not leave whenever they wished. Abolished during the Revolution, it was reinstated by the Consulate in 1803 and remained mandatory until 1890.

The Revolution of 1848 was the culmination of this movement. And what clearly demonstrates the dominant economic impact of the February Days is that economic issues immediately took precedence over all others. Unfortunately, the trade unions lacked experience. Unfortunately, too, urban workers were unfamiliar with the peasantry—and vice versa! As a result, in 1848 the peasants remained passive, failing to grasp the workers’ movement, just as in 1852 the workers understood nothing of the attempted peasant uprising that Napoleon III crushed. Despite these causes of failure—and they were not the only ones!—all the improvements achieved were due to the power of the working class: it was the workers’ demands expressed by the Luxembourg Commission that the provisional government was compelled to register in legal form.

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I. Pouget was very attached to this idea, dear to Kropotkin, of the necessary collaboration of peasants in the social revolution. He already spoke of it in the presentation he gave in 1896 at the conference organized by anarchists and extra-parliamentary socialists on the sidelines of the International Socialist Congress in London: “The agrarian question,” he said then, “is important because there are no effective revolutions except those that have the support of the peasants. In France, the Revolution of 1789-1793 produced results because the peasants got involved.” On the contrary, the 1848 socialist revolution failed because the peasants did not move… (La Sociale, August 9-16, 1896, p. 4.) And he returns to this idea much later, in 1909, in chapters XIII (“The Peasants’ Uprising”) and XIX (“Land for the Peasants”) of his social science fiction novel written in collaboration with Émile Pataud, How We Will Make the Revolution (Librairie J. Tallandier, 1909). It should be noted, however, that Pouget makes an error of interpretation here regarding the supposed “jacquerie” of 1852, which was in reality nothing more than an invention of the propagandists of the regime established after the coup.

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II. The Luxembourg Commission was established on February 28, 1848, by a decree issued by the provisional government formed in the wake of the proclamation of the Second Republic. Under the presidency of Louis Blanc, the only socialist in the new government, it sat from March 1 ^to May 16, on the benches recently occupied in the Luxembourg Palace by the peers of France. Bringing together workers’ delegates and representatives of employers, it aimed to study all questions relating to labor and to work towards their solution. Marx ironically referred to this “socialist synagogue whose high priests, Louis Blanc and Albert, had the task of discovering the promised land, proclaiming the new gospel, and providing employment for the Parisian proletariat” (The Class Struggles in France, Works IV, Politics I, La Pléiade, p. 245), although he acknowledged the Commission’s “merit in having revealed, from a European platform, the secret of the 19th-century revolution ^: the emancipation of the proletariat  ” (ibid., p. 248).

In the early days of the Revolution, the frightened bourgeoisie appeared conciliatory and—to save capital—willing to sacrifice a few scraps of privilege. Soon reassured, both by the inoculation of the people with the political virus, under the guise of universal suffrage, and by the inconsistency of the corporate organizations, it became all the more ferocious for the greatness of its terror. The massacres of June 1848 were, for it, a first satisfaction. Shortly afterward, in 1849, the representatives of the people—to make it clear that they were merely the representatives of the bourgeoisie—legislated against coalitions, which remained forbidden and punishable by the penalties stipulated in the law of 1810. By means of delirious fabrications about the atrocities attributed to the “socialist bands” of the countryside, they presented the republican resistance to the coup d’état “as being the work […] of barbarians and savages who, in the middle of the 19th century , would embody a France of material and spiritual backwardness” (Philippe Vigier, Daily Life in the Provinces and in Paris during the days of 1848, Hachette, 1982, p. 331).

However, just as the reactionary second period of Louis-Philippe had not stopped the workers’ movement, so too were the republican reaction and the Napoleonic government that succeeded it powerless to stop it. Without unduly worrying about the form of government, nor about the prohibition against forming coalitions, groups continued to develop in number and strength, so much so that, by their pressure on the public authorities, they obtained legal sanction for the improvements and freedoms won thanks to their revolutionary vigor. It was in this way that, through what we now call direct action, the right of coalition was wrested from Caesarism ^I in 1864 .

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I. The word “specific” here has the meaning of “specific medicine”, in other words “a medicine whose effects against such and such a disease have been observed in therapy but whose way of acting is unknown” (Treasury of the French language).

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II. This word, which—to our knowledge—is not listed in dictionaries, is nevertheless not a personal creation of Pouget. It can be found in texts from the late 19th ^century , and its use is attested to the present day. In the writings of this collection, Pouget uses other words coined according to the same model, such as “ponderantism,” which serves as a synonym for “moderation,” or “democratism,” or even “politicianism.”

Workers of all trades had begun to organize, to form coalitions, to strike, disregarding the law entirely. Among them, the printers stood out for their revolutionary spirit, and one of their strikes (in 1862, in Paris) was the decisive incident that led to the recognition of the right to form coalitions. The government—blind like all its kind—imagined it could crush the unrest with a decisive blow: mass arrests were carried out; the entire strike committee was imprisoned, as well as the most active strikers.

This excessive arbitrariness, far from terrorizing, inflamed public opinion; the resulting wave of indignation was so intense that the government had to capitulate and recognize the workers’ right to form coalitions. This outcome was solely due to external pressure. It would be difficult to attribute this success to socialist members of parliament… for the excellent reason that Parliament contained none.

I. Here is what Maxime Leroy says about this law: “The law of March 25, 1864, authorized coalitions, but in a very limited way. Only temporary coalitions, or strikes, were permitted. Professional associations and corporate meetings remained prohibited […] and defenses, prescriptions, and fines against dissenting workers were still forbidden, as were strike committees and permanent offices (Article 416 of the Penal Code). The law authorized the collective cessation of work, but it denied workers the right to give it a collective life.” (La Coutume ouvrière, op. cit., p. 636.)

The acquisition of the right to form coalitions was a stimulus for trade union organization, which subsequently became so rapidly irresistible that the State was forced to make the best of a bad situation; in 1868, trade union freedom was recognized in fact by an imperial circular which stated:

“Regarding the organization of workers’ chambers into unions, the administration must leave those concerned with complete freedom of judgment…”

Meanwhile, the International Workingmen’s Association was developing, and finally established in 1864, after several earlier unsuccessful attempts, it exerted a powerful influence across Western Europe and opened new horizons for the working class. Horizons that would be overshadowed by the great crisis of 1871…

Let’s stop here – so as not to be carried too far – this retrospective summary and draw the logical conclusions:

It follows from the historical milestones we have just laid out that at the dawn of the current regime, in 1791, the government – in its capacity as defender of the privileges of the bourgeois class – denied and refused all economic rights to the working class, so as to make it a dust of individuals, without contact between them, and, by that very fact, exploitable at will.

Then, we see the working class emerge from the chaotic state in which the bourgeoisie would like to keep it; we see it organize itself on the economic front, setting aside all political concerns. We also see the government—whatever its political affiliation—attempt to stem the proletarian surge; then, unable to succeed, resigned to sanctioning the improvements and freedoms won by the workers.

So what dominates all these social upheavals and shocks is that the exploited and exploiters, the governed and the governing have interests that are not only distinct but opposed, and that there is a class struggle between them, in the precise sense of the word.

Moreover, it also emerges from the brief exposition above that the explanation of the trade union movement, free from any parliamentary contamination, and the justification for the grouping of workers, on the solid economic ground, the basis of all real progress.

The agreement for life. Basis of the social agreement

Having demonstrated that the 20th century trade union movement ^is , from a historical point of view, the normal consequence of the efforts of the 19th century working class ^, it remains to examine the value of this movement, from both a philosophical and social point of view.

Let us first briefly establish the premises: humans are social animals. They cannot—and never have been able to—live in isolation in nature. It is impossible to conceive of their existence other than grouped in societies. However rudimentary the primitive human settlements may have been, they were always associations.

It is not true, according to what J.-J. Rousseau, theorist of democratic servitude, taught, that prior to their coming together in societies men lived in the “state of nature” and could only get out of it by abdicating, through a “social contract”, a part of their natural rights ^.

These absurdities, now outdated, were very popular at the end of the 18th ^century . They inspired the revolutionary bourgeois of 1789-1793 and continue to form the basis of the legal system and institutions that govern us.

However flawed Rousseau’s sophisms may be, they have the advantage of lending a philosophical veneer to the principle of authority and of being the theoretical expression of the bourgeoisie’s interests. This is why the bourgeoisie adopted them; it simply had to incorporate them into the “Declaration of the Rights of Man,” as well as into articles of the Civil Code, to create a perfect handbook of exploitation and domination.

I. It should be recalled that both Proudhon and Bakunin repeatedly expressed their total opposition to the ideology of the “social contract.” The former devotes many pages to it in his General Idea of ​​the Revolution (1851), where he describes Rousseau’s contract as a “pact of hatred, a monument to incurable misanthropy,” a “coalition of the barons of property, commerce, and industry against the disinherited of the proletariat,” an “oath of social warfare” (p. 137), a “code of capitalist and mercantile tyranny” (p. 140), and finally, a “masterpiece of oratorical juggling” (p. 141).

Nor is it true, as Darwinists proclaim, that society is a perpetual battleground where the struggle for existence is the sole regulator between humans ^. This theory, as monstrous as it is erroneous, lends a veneer of scientific hypocrisy to the worst forms of exploitation. It explains why the exploiter is strong, a product of natural selection, while the exploited— weak— a victim of (also natural) fate, can only vegetate or disappear, depending on which of these two outcomes benefits the powerful .

This theory could only take shape thanks to an interpretation, as arbitrary as it was erroneous, of Darwin’s ideas. In any case, even if it were correct, it could only apply between different species. But, in a given species, war is an accidental monstrosity. For other species, living in association, not only is the earth a monstrosity, but harmony is an inescapable necessity.

I. Anarchists opposed the lessons that some followers sought to draw from Darwin’s theories regarding human societies very early on. Well before the publication of Mutual Aid (1902) – the French translation, L’Entraide, would not appear until 1906 – Kropotkin endeavored to highlight the weaknesses of these theses, particularly in (unsigned) articles in the journal Le Révolté, to which he was a regular contributor. “It is known that the proponents of Darwin’s doctrine, and especially his French commentators, have claimed to derive from the famous English naturalist’s theories on evolution an argument in favor of the current social organization.” By seizing upon his theories on the struggle for existence, they claimed that it was perfectly natural for society to be divided into two classes… (“The Revolution and Darwinism,” Le Révolté, March 17, 1883.) However, while Pouget’s critique of Darwinism here is certainly indebted to Kropotkin’s articles, one can imagine that it also owes something to the pamphlet Social Darwinism (published by Derveaux Éditeurs in 1880) by the anarchist publicist Émile Gautier, the driving force behind the publication La Révolution sociale, which—by Pouget’s own admission—had an enormous influence on his intellectual development. It was in this booklet that he must have read the first critiques of Darwinism transposed to the socio-political sphere. Gautier notably asserted that “Darwin’s law no longer exclusively governs humanity and that a people is less subject to it the more civilized it is” (Le Darwinisme social, op. cit, p. 37), before arguing in conclusion for its replacement by “aid for existence” (ibid., p. 68).

This is what happened to humankind. If, in the distant earliest ages, humanity had not formed bonds with its fellow beings, it would never have emerged from its animalistic state. Sociability, therefore, presents itself to humankind not only as the express condition of progress, but also of life itself.

This agreement for life ^, far from constituting a diminution of individuality for human beings, has been for them the means of increasing and multiplying their capacity for well-being. The examination of the actual conditions of life in the human species thus leads to the negation of the theories circulated by the dominant classes—theories whose sole objective is to facilitate and justify the exploitation and oppression of the masses.

Indeed, although with theoretical nuances, the two doctrines (the Jean-Jacques-style democracy of the 18th ^century and the bourgeois Darwinism of the 19th) arrive at the same conclusion: they proclaim the spirit of sacrifice and teach that “the freedom of each has as its limit the freedom of others”.

It is thanks to them that the spirit of sacrifice, which was outdated and discredited in its religious expression, has regained popularity by becoming a social principle. These doctrines insist that, simply by agreeing to live in society, human beings sacrifice a portion of their natural rights. This offering is made on the altar of authority, and of property, and, in return for this surrender, he acquires the hope of enjoying the rights that have survived the sacrifice.

I. Pouget most likely found this expression in the text precisely titled “Agreement for Life,” published in 1895 in Les Temps nouveaux. Here is what could be read in this excerpt from the book Man and His Destiny (Plon/Nourrit, 1895), by Théophile Funck-Brentano, professor at the École libre des sciences politiques: “Agreement for life is for humanity the great principle of strength and progress. As soon as it ceases, the struggle resumes implacably, with no other outcome than extermination, unless the combatants, weary of war, return to agreement. […] Agreement for life is not only the secret of all the strength and progress of humanity, it is the very condition of its existence.” ” (“Agreement for life”, literary supplement of Les Temps nouveaux, 1895, no. 4, p. I.) In 1909, Louis Niel* took up the expression again in the booklet Two principles of social life: the struggle for life, agreement for life published by Marcel Rivière.

Modern societies, mired in these metaphysics—one with a scientific veneer and the other with a democratic mask—have bowed their heads and accepted the sacrifice. And they have been so thoroughly indoctrinated and manipulated that even today, citizens who pride themselves on being intellectually emancipated accept as an indisputable axiom that the freedom of each individual is limited by the freedom of others.

This deceitful formula does not stand up to scrutiny. It is nothing less than the proclamation of a constant and perpetual antagonism between humans. If it were true, progress would have been impossible, for life would have been a continuous battle between raging beasts, and since the human beast could only satisfy its interests at the expense of its fellow humans, it would have been struggle, war, and boundless ferocity.

Yet, despite all the criminal theories that portray society as a battlefield, and people as only able to live at each other’s expense, tearing each other apart and devouring one another daily, progress has been made and the idea of ​​solidarity has nonetheless flourished. This demonstrates that the instincts for social harmony prevail over those of the struggle for survival.

To this conclusion, it is objected that the State has been an agent of progress and that its intervention has been moralizing and pacifying. This allegation complements the sophisms cited above. The “order” created by the State has consisted only of suppressing and oppressing—for the benefit of a privileged minority—the vast mass of the people, rendered more malleable by the belief with which they have been imbued: that the abdication of a portion of their “natural rights” is the first act of consent to the “social contract.”

To the bourgeois definition of freedom, which consecrates slavery and misery, it is necessary to oppose the contrary formula, which is the exact expression of social truth and which derives from the fundamental principle of “agreement for the struggle”, namely: the freedom of each increases in contact with the freedom of others .

This definition, whose self-evidence is undeniable, alone explains the progressive development of human societies. The expansive force of the principle of harmony for life possesses a dynamic power superior to the forces of division, repression, and stifling exerted by parasitic minorities. This is why societies have progressed! This is why they have not been nothing but fields of carnage, ruin, and mourning!

It is in our interest to immerse ourselves in this notion of freedom, so as to become radically resistant to the inoculation of bourgeois sophisms; so as, also, to understand that, as the word society indicates, the driving principle of humanity is agreement for struggle, association .

Let us also understand that society is the agglomeration of the individuals who constitute it and that it has no independent life of its own outside of them; therefore, there can be no question of pursuing a social happiness other than the individual happiness of the human beings composing society.

The production group. Social embryo (Civic and democratic derivatives)

The agreement for the struggle, the understanding for life, being recognized as the social pivot, it follows that the mode of aggregation of society is the grouping, and, in order that the development of the individual is not hindered, in order that he always follows an upward line, it is necessary that the form of grouping be in complete relation with the economic functions.

I. In this instance, Pouget is merely repeating one of Bakunin’s best-known formulas: “My personal freedom, thus confirmed by the freedom of everyone, extends to infinity.” (Works, I, Stock, 1895, p. 281.)

For human beings, these functions present themselves in two irreducible aspects:

I) consumer;
2) producer.

We are born consumers, we become producers. That is the normal process.

Consumer. Human beings should be able to be consumers as they see fit and, in this role, should only be accountable to their needs, the satisfaction of which is necessarily contingent upon available resources. Consumption is the measure of social development: the more intense it is for each individual, the higher the level of well-being.

In today’s society, consumption is far from being practiced according to these principles. Far from being free, it is subject to prohibitions and constraints that are only overcome through financial means. However, since “money” is hoarded by the ruling class, it is this class that, thanks to the privileges it enjoys, consumes according to its own pleasure. Conversely, the worker who has made natural products consumable—for the benefit of the capitalist whose wages he is—is prevented from spending as he pleases.

This injustice is intolerable. It is monstrous that individuals—except for children, the sick, and the elderly—can consume without producing. It is also monstrous that actual producers are deprived of the possibility of consumption.

Although consumption takes precedence over production – since we consume well before we are old enough to produce – in social organization there is a need to reverse the terms and put production at the starting point.

The producer is the basis of everything; he fulfills the essential organic function through which society perpetuates itself. He is therefore the initial cell of economic life, and it is his contact and agreement with the producers whose action is carried out on the same plane as his—that is to say, same industry, same trade, similar effort—that will reveal the bond of solidarity whose network extends to the human community.

This forced and logical agreement between producers creates the production group, which is the cornerstone of society. No other form of agglomeration has such a character of necessity; all others are secondary in nature. It alone is primary and inescapable, and it alone appears as the social nucleus, the center of economic activity. But for the function of the production group to be fulfilled normally, it must constitute an enhancement of the individual and must never, under any pretext, lead to a diminution of their autonomy.

Certainly, the recognition of the primary role played in society by the producer and the group of which they are an integral part is relatively new. The shared interests and aspirations of producers, coordinated according to their needs, professional activities, and tendencies, have not always been as tangible as they are now. Understanding social phenomena was hampered by ignorance, not to mention that economic development had not yet acquired the intensity it has today. Another obstacle to this understanding stemmed from the continued preponderant role previously played by the family unit. At a certain point in humanity’s history—when it consisted of little more than tribes of hunters and herders—the family did, in fact, fulfill the function of the social nucleus. This phenomenon can be explained by the fact that, in those distant times, production—both industrial and agricultural—hardly extended beyond the family unit. so that, this agglomeration being sufficient for rudimentary needs, exchange had not yet come to modify the conditions of existence.

Today, these conditions have undergone such a transformation that it is impossible to consider the family as the organic core. This would be tantamount to legitimizing all forms of slavery, since all of them stem, as a consequence, from the authority that the head of the family arrogates to himself by virtue of his strength and ancestral lineage.

Moreover, no one is considering this regression. It was in a different direction that the bourgeoisie, on the eve of its Revolution of 1789, attempted to steer the people’s tendencies toward sociability. Desiring a workforce—docile, supple, malleable, and devoid of any resistance—it broke the bonds of genuine solidarity within the guilds, under the pretext of uprooting professional privileges whose development the Ancien Régime had fostered. Then, to fill the void it had just created in the popular consciousness and to prevent the resurgence of the idea of ​​economically based associations that it feared, it maneuvered to replace the bonds of real solidarity, resulting from the convergence of interests, with the fictitious and deceptive bonds of civic duty and democracy.

Religion, which until then had served the powerful to subdue and restrain the people’s drive for improvement, was relegated to the background. It wasn’t that the bourgeoisie disdained the stupefying power of this “brake,” but they considered it an outdated system, a relic of its past. They thus fancied themselves Voltairean and, while simultaneously attacking the priests, suggested to the working class superstitions at least as depressing as Christianity. Popular sovereignty!… Fatherland  !… became the fashionable idols.

The patriotic brake

In civic education, the bourgeoisie exalted patriotic sentimentality. The ideological bonds that unite people born, by chance, within the shifting borders of a given territory, were extolled as the most sacred. It was taught, without a hint of irony, that the happiest day in a patriot’s life is the one on which he has the pleasure of being slaughtered for his country.

These empty boasts were designed to delude the people and prevent them from reflecting on the philosophical value of the moral virus being instilled in them. Through the blare of trumpets, drums, war chants, and chauvinistic bluster, they were trained to defend what they do not possess: their heritage. Patriotism can only be explained by the fact that all patriots, without distinction, possess a share of social wealth, and nothing is more absurd than a patriot without heritage. Yet this is precisely what the proletarian who owns not a clod of earth from the nation resigns himself to; consequently, his patriotism is an effect without a cause, and therefore a pathological case.

Under the Ancien Régime, a military career was a profession like any other (simply more barbaric), and the army—where patriotic fervor was rarely expressed—was a hodgepodge of mercenaries “marching” for pay. After the Revolution, the blood tax, compulsory service… for the people, was conceived. This stemmed from the assumption that, henceforth, the nation would be “everyone’s property”; however, it has continued to be “the property of a few,” and these “few,” thanks to the new system, have solved the problem of having their privileges protected by others, those dispossessed of their heritage.

Here, indeed, a formidable contradiction appears. The ties of nationality — of which militarization is the tangible form — and which we are told should aim at the defense of common interests, lead to a diametrically opposed result: to suppressing the aspirations of the working class.

It is not so much the ideological border, which herds people into English, French, Germans, etc., that the army monitors; it is primarily the border of wealth in order to keep the poor herded into misery.

The result is that civic sentiments are, to the highest degree, antisocial; to accept them as a social basis would be to condemn oneself to barbarism.

The democratic brake

In the democratic process, the bourgeoisie also proved Machiavellian. Having seized political power, which guaranteed its economic dominance, it was careful not to dismantle the machinery of oppression that had hitherto operated to the benefit of the aristocracy. It merely repainted the façade of the state, changing its appearance and making it acceptable to the people as a new entity.

However, in society, only economic functions, suited to individuals and useful groups, are real. Consequently, any external crystallization, any political superfluity, is a parasitic and oppressive outgrowth, therefore harmful.

But the people were unaware of this. Therefore, they were easily deceived.

The bourgeoisie, with the intention of hindering the flowering of economic sovereignty—a reality in embryo in the freedom of association which it had just strangled—deflected the people towards the mirage of political sovereignty whose impotent manifestations could not hinder capitalist exploitation.

The deception was so successful that the notion of political equality, one of the most mystifying there is, served for a century as a calming influence on the masses. Yet, it doesn’t seem to take great foresight to understand that the capitalist and the proletarian, the landowner and the pauper, are not equal. Equality is not achieved simply because both groups possess a vote.

And the deception continues! It continues to the point that even today there are some — among the best of the people — who still have faith in these chimeras.

These people are victims of a superficial logic; the prestige of the popular masses they have counted and compared to the numerical weakness of the ruling minority has led them to surmise that it would be enough to educate these masses for the people to triumph, through the normal play of minorities.

They failed to see that the democratic grouping, based on universal suffrage, is not a homogeneous and permanent entity, and that it is impossible to coordinate it for sustained action. This grouping brings together, for a fleeting moment, citizens between whom there is no identity of interests—such as the employer and the worker—and, when it unites them, it only allows them to vote ^on abstractions or illusions.

The incoherence of parliaments, their ignorance of popular aspirations—and also their impotence—are facts so often repeated that it is unnecessary to dwell on them. The result is no better when one examines the consequences of universal suffrage at the municipal level. A few examples, briefly outlined, will demonstrate this:

For about a quarter of a century, rural municipalities have been, for the most part, in the hands of peasants; the large landowners have not opposed this conquest, knowing that, thanks to the inevitabilities of the current environment, and thanks to the obstacles put in place by the central power, nothing effective could be attempted within them.

In working-class regions where, under socialist pressure, this same conquest of municipalities was achieved, the benefits for workers were meager. These municipalities, crippled by the government, were unable to implement their programs, and disappointments ensued! Then, another danger arose: the proletariat in these centers, focused on political action, devoted all its energy to this endeavor and neglected economic organization. Consequently, employers, whose exploitative ferocity knows no bounds, profited from the lack of an active and vigorous union bloc to resist them.

In the North (in Roubaix, Armentières, etc.), wages are appallingly low ^. In the Ardennes, the same observations: there, numerous unions had been formed, but, having almost completely let themselves be absorbed by politics, they lost the strength to resist the boss.

To all these flaws, democracy adds an even greater one, if possible:

Progress, as our entire historical past demonstrates, is the result of the revolutionary efforts of conscious minorities. Yet, democracy organizes the suppression of minorities for the benefit of sheep-like and conservative majorities.

Therefore, democracy, with its universal suffrage and political sovereignty, ultimately cements the economic enslavement of the working class.

The bourgeoisie’s attempt to divert the economic movement could only be temporary. The guild system is not the product of artificial cultivation; it arises and develops spontaneously and inevitably in all social classes. It is found in Antiquity, as in the Middle Ages, and as in our own time. And everywhere we observe that its development has been thwarted by the privileged classes who, fearing the expansionist power of this system, took prohibitive measures against it, without, however, succeeding in eradicating it.

It is no wonder that the corporatist association possesses such intense vitality; its definitive annihilation is impossible simply because achieving it would require annihilating society itself. Indeed, the corporatist group has its roots in the mode of production, and I. Pouget certainly did not choose this example at random, since the North was then a stronghold of Guesdism, an avowed adversary of “general strike” syndicalism since its inception. At the CGT congress held in Amiens in 1906, Merrheim, one of the spokesmen for the revolutionary syndicalist current, argued for the terrible living conditions of the workers of Roubaix to try to demonstrate the ineffectiveness of the actions undertaken by the Guesdists in the North.

This normally follows. However, since association for production is an unavoidable necessity, how could it be possible for workers brought together for production to limit their coordination to contacts and relationships only useful to the boss who benefits from their collective exploitation? Since, to satisfy capitalist interests, they have been constituted into an economic network, they would have to have the mentality of mollusks not to have the sense to exceed, in their relations as exploited workers, the limits set by the boss.

Inevitably, workers with a modicum of common sense should be led to recognize the blatant antagonism which places them – the producers – as irreconcilable enemies of the employer; they are the robbed, the boss is the thief.

So, between them, the disagreement is so radical that only politicians or corporate lackeys can babble about “the agreement between capital and labor”.

Furthermore, workers could not remain silent for long, recognizing that the more greedy the employers’ demands, the weaker the worker resistance. And it is readily apparent that the isolation of workers constitutes their greatest weakness. Consequently, since the agglomeration of production had already taught the exploited to appreciate the benefits of association, all they needed was will and initiative to create the proletarian defense group: the trade union.

They soon appreciated its value: the bourgeoisie, which hardly fears the “voting people”, was forced by the “unionized people” to recognize the right of coalition and trade union freedom.

Because of these initial results, repeated attempts were made to steer the working class away from union leadership. Despite these maneuvers, the role of the union has become clearer and more defined, so that it can now be described as follows.

In the current environment, its permanent mission is to defend the corporation against any decrease in vitality, that is to say against any reduction in wages, increase in working hours, etc.; then, also, adding the offensive to the defensive, it is concerned with increasing the sum of well-being of the corporation, which can only be achieved by encroaching on capitalist privileges and constitutes a kind of partial expropriation.

Besides this task of incessant skirmishes, the union is concerned with the work of complete emancipation of which it will be the effective agent; it will consist of taking possession of the social wealth, today monopolized by the bourgeoisie, and of reorganizing society on communist bases I, so that with the minimum of productive efforts the maximum of well-being is obtained.

Union rights

Here is the union formed. In a specific corporation, a tiny minority of audacious individuals had the temperament to stand up to the capitalists and create a resistance group.

What will be the attitude of this handful of activists? Will they wait, before making their demands, until they have rallied to their side, if not all, at least the majority of their colleagues in the profession?

That is what they would do if they carried over into the economic sphere the majority prejudices that are in vogue in the political sphere.

I. For the choice of (libertarian) communism by the anarchists, see above, note II, p. 55. We see that, despite the reservations expressed by the libertarians of the CGT regarding the aims displayed by the workers’ organization, Pouget here declares himself without ambiguity in favor of the communist formula.

However, since the necessities of the struggle are more compelling than democratic sophistry, the logic of life compels them to action along new paths, contradicting the political formulas with which they have been saturated. And for this to be so, these activists do not need to possess a considerable degree of “conscience”; it is enough that formulas and abstractions do not paralyze them.

We even saw, in a serious circumstance, the politician Basly* pay homage to syndicalist principles and demand their application. It goes without saying that this was pure cunning on his part, and that he had hoped this maneuver would discredit revolutionary tendencies. This occurred in 1901, at the first miners’ congress held in Lens, where the question of a general strike was being debated. To halt the movement, Basly proposed a referendum and, breaking with democratic principles, had it decided that the number of non-voters would be added to the majority–unconscious and recognized that they are human zeros that are added to the right of conscious units, inert beings whose latent forces only come into motion under the shock that the energetic and the audacious impart to them.

This politician, who considers himself cunning, would have been greatly astonished if it had been explained to him that instead of resorting to trickery (which only resulted in his own embarrassment), he had just acted like a revolutionary and drawn inspiration from syndicalist theories. Indeed, on this occasion, Basly disregarded public opinion.

I. The CGT had dispatched two of its members (from its general strike commission) to the national congress of the Miners’ Federation held in Lens in April 1901, to call on the miners to a general strike, assuring them of the support of many trades for this movement. They were not heard in plenary session, Basly and his supporters wishing to organize a referendum on the subject in the hope of defusing the growing discontent of the profession. The two referendums held in quick succession in the mining regions revealed a large majority in favor of a general strike, except in Nord-Pas-de-Calais, where only 18,000 miners out of 51,000 registered participated in the first referendum. Of these, 2,000 voted for the strike and 7,000 against—figures comparable to those of Montceau-les-Mines, where 4,500 out of 4,651 miners voted in favor of the general strike. For more details, see Bruno Mattéi, * Rebelle, rebelle. Révoltes et mythes du mineur (1830-1946)*, Champ Vallon, 1987.

This perspective negates democratic theories which, proclaiming equal rights for all, teach that popular sovereignty emerges through universal suffrage. Basly failed to grasp this! Immersed in the business world, he absorbed its atmosphere and momentarily forgot his political theories. It is also worth noting that democracy has never been in vogue within professional organizations. Faced with social necessities, union activists have provided the solution that common sense dictated. Their actions therefore preceded the formulation of the principles of syndicalism.

Unionized workers never assumed they would first need to secure near-unanimous support from the entire workforce, then hold a formal consultation, and finally align their actions with the majority’s wishes. They simply banded together, in the largest possible numbers, and voiced their demands, disregarding any unreasonable objections. Nothing could be more normal! We must distinguish between the theoretical and abstract right that democracy makes shine before our eyes and between the real and tangible right, which is only the totality of our interests and whose proclamation has as its starting point an act of individual conscience.

The right of every individual to rise up against oppression and exploitation is inalienable. Even if that individual were alone against everyone else, their right to protest and revolt would remain unassailable. If the masses choose to bow their heads under the yoke, to lick the boots of their masters, so be it! The person who abhors these platitudes and, refusing to submit to them, rises up and revolts, that person is right against everyone! Their right is clear, unambiguous, and undeniable, and the right of the subjugated masses, as long as it is limited to the right of slavery, is a negligible quantity that cannot be opposed to it. For them, the right will only begin to take shape and be respected the day they, weary of obeying and working for others, consider rebelling.

Therefore, whenever a group is formed where conscious individuals come into contact, they do not have to take into account the apathy of the masses. It is already regrettable enough that the unconscious refuse to exercise their rights, without even granting them the strange privilege of hindering the proclamation and realization of the rights of the conscious. Quite naturally – and without the theory having been developed a priori – it is by drawing inspiration from these guiding ideas that trade unions were formed, acted and still act.

It follows that union or syndical rights have nothing in common with democratic rights. This is the expression of unconscious majorities who band together to stifle conscious minorities; by virtue of the dogma of popular sovereignty and, although having taken as its starting point that all men are brothers and equal, it ends up sanctioning economic slavery and oppressing men of initiative, progress, science, and freedom.

Syndical rights are the complete opposite!

It begins with individual sovereignty, with the autonomy of the human being, and it culminates in agreement for life, in solidarity. Thus, its logical and inevitable consequence is the realization of social freedom and equality.

It is understandable that, by virtue of their individual sovereignty, which, within the union, has been strengthened through contact with similar sovereignties, workers do not wait for the assent of their entire body to express their will: they think and act in its name, just as if their bloc were truly composed of that entire body. By logical extension, they are led to think and act as if they were the entirety of the working class, the whole people.

Moreover, what indicates how justified union activists are in considering themselves as synthesizing the aspirations and desires of all is that, when circumstances require it – in the event of a conflict with the boss, for example – non-union members take the path to the union and spontaneously come to group together and fight alongside the comrades who, with patience and energy, have prepared the action.

Non-union members, the unaware, therefore have no reason to be offended by this sort of moral authority that the “aware” assume. Activists do not eliminate any goodwill, and those who might suffer from being considered insignificant need only escape this inferiority by breaking out of their isolation, shaking off their inertia, and joining the union.

Moreover, the tardigrades will be ill-advised to complain, because they benefit from the results achieved by conscious and militant comrades, and they benefit from them without having suffered from the struggle.

This extension to all of the profits from the actions of a few proves the superiority of trade union rights over democratic rights. How far removed we are from the bourgeois poverty that dictates each individual is the architect of their own destiny! In the working class, everyone is aware that by fighting for themselves, they are working for everyone, and it never occurs to anyone to find cause for recrimination or inaction.

Workers disdain the narrow-mindedness and pettiness of bourgeois selfishness, which, under the guise of individual fulfillment, breeds misery and death, and dries up the sources of life. Convinced that unity for life is the condition of all social progress, they identify their interest with the common good. Therefore, when they act, it is not in their own name, but in the name of the corporation whose destiny they entrust. By logical extension, they do not limit their activity to the corporate sphere, but extend it to the entire working class, and they make general demands. Thus, when they wrest an improvement from capitalism, they intend for everyone to benefit—everyone—including non-union members, the unwitting, even strikebreakers !

This feeling of broad fraternity, this profoundly human understanding of social harmony, elevates trade unionism to a beautiful ideal. Its superiority over democratic principles, which only breed vileness, fratricidal struggles, and social discord, is indisputable.

Thus, trade union rights are presented as the expression of a new, profoundly human right, springing from popular consciousness and which, in the face of old dogmas, prepares the social renaissance: the emergence of a society where, in place of the oppressive regime of the law, will be substituted the regime of free contracts, consented to by the interested parties and perfectible or revocable at their will; where, [substituted] for capitalist production, economic federalism — realized by the cohesion of production groups — will ensure to human beings the maximum of well-being and freedom.

Conclusion

It would be more accurate to say: “Introduction…”

Indeed, in the preceding pages, I have attempted to define the guiding principles of trade unionism. The most important work remains to be done:

To show the concordance of union action with union theories and, by the accumulation of facts and examples, to prove that — even unconsciously sometimes — unions are inspired by these notions.

Then show that the implementation of these guiding principles has a considerable impact in current society and that, in the face of old organisms which are falling into decay, the seeds of the new society are developing where human beings will evolve without hindrance within autonomous groups.

This will be the subject of the brochures that follow.

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II. The union

The hell of salaried work

What is the status of the worker, the employee, in today’s society?

That’s what isn’t taught in secular schools.

It is therefore incumbent upon those concerned to improve their own education on this subject, which has been deliberately neglected by bourgeois educators. Moreover, this requires neither great knowledge nor enormous intellectual power. Common sense is all that is needed.

Social issues are not difficult, abstruse, or abstract. One doesn’t need to be a scholar to be convinced that all human beings should have a secure existence and not be forced to lead a life of hardship from cradle to grave.

However, a little foresight and reflection leads the worker to realize that this is far from the truth. His fate is at the mercy of his employer. He is never guaranteed a livelihood. Today, if he finds an employer (whose enrichment he contributes to) willing to hire him, he barely scrapes by; but if this employer, for various reasons, dismisses him, the worker is left face to face with destitution… All the anxieties of unemployment grip him!

The law (a codified expression of the “great” principles of 1789) has—perhaps mockingly—proclaimed the poor the equal of the rich. And yet this poor man, as a free man, drags his carcass around in search of an exploiter who will take him on as a willing slave. If he balks, refusing to prostitute his muscles and his brain for the benefit of the bourgeois, he only escapes wage labor to condemn himself to misery.

Is such a fate exceptional?

Alas, no! This is the lot of all workers, this is the fate of the people of the 20th ^century !

We are thus led to conclude that there is no essential difference between the precarious existence of the modern employee and that of the slaves of the ancient world or the serfs of the Middle Ages.

Certainly, the modern worker benefits (in a small proportion) from the scientific and industrial progress that modifies social housing: he eats from plates that would have seemed luxurious to the ancient slave; he lights his home with oil, candles, gas or electricity, all modes of lighting that are far removed from the smoky oil lamps or resin torches of the Middle Ages.

But these marvels of human ingenuity—and so many others that it is superfluous to list them—while they may be ingredients of well-being and happiness, are not their essential elements. To be happy, it is not enough to enjoy the sight—or even to have at one’s disposal, to the extent that one’s pockets are full—automobiles, railways, telegraphs, telephones, etc.

Happiness—which is the ultimate expression of well-being—stems from a normal balance between productive effort and the ability to consume, a balance that allows one to enjoy life without constraints or anxieties. Happiness consists of the serenity of mind resulting from the certainty of a secure existence, in the present and the future; it consists of being subservient to no one—no boss, no manager—and of knowing oneself, morally as well as materially, to be an autonomous being, free from all the constraints and servitudes arising from human will.

However, science, however marvelous the progress it brings about, does not alter the social relations that place the worker under the control of the capitalist. These relations remain those of master and slave. Obviously, over the ages, under the pressure of the spirit of revolt, they have been softened, at least in form.

Nominally, the wage earner is a free man, whereas the ancient slave was a living commodity, traded for goods, and the medieval serf was an impersonal thing, bound to the land and subject to the fluctuations of the estate on which he eked out a living. But this liberation, entirely fictitious and legal, has not freed the wage earner from his economic subjugation. In fact, he is completely at the mercy of capitalism. Indeed, in some respects, his fate is more precarious than that of the ancient slave: the latter’s market value made him appreciated by the owner, who had an interest in keeping his “merchandise” in good condition to avoid its depreciation.

Nowadays, the capitalist no longer owns the worker; he merely rents him out. In this way, the exploiter’s responsibility is reduced to a minimum: he is only liable for “rental risks,” and even then—that is, in the event of an accident, a sudden breach of contract, etc.—the employer of workers finds in the law a way to evade his responsibility. Then, when the worker’s productive capacity declines with age, the employer suffers no loss: he dismisses this worthless worker, even though this unfortunate individual may have contributed to building his fortune for a long time.

Thus, in today’s society, the proletarian is never guaranteed a loaf of bread for tomorrow, and his backbreaking labor does not protect him from the miseries he foresees: unemployment, illness, old age… And he shouldn’t delude himself! He shouldn’t hope that order, thrift, and resignation will solve everything.

—and other soothing “virtues” with which his educators have instilled in him—he will be able to avoid the misfortune which, as a result of a flawed social system, strikes indiscriminately and blindly. Indeed, his salary is so insufficient that he absorbs it as he goes along to meet his needs; moreover, his situation is always precarious, for he is entirely at the mercy of his employer who, without scruples, can throw him out onto the street today or tomorrow.

How is capital created?

In contrast to the uncertain, precarious, and joyless existence of the worker, that of the capitalist is woven with leisure and superfluity.

However, the happy life of this privileged person is only in appearance the result of either his individual effort or his personal merit; in reality, it derives from his cunning or his villainy in hoarding capital, unless the fortune came to him while he slept, by chance of birth or by way of inheritance.

Neither individual effort nor personal merit is sufficient to explain the accumulation of a considerable fortune: a man who merely accumulates the direct product of his personal labor; who does not multiply the meager wealth thus acquired by making it bear fruit—that is, by using it to exploit his fellow men, either through commerce or industry—may save a small fortune, but would not become a capitalist.

To become a capitalist, it is absolutely necessary to economize on the labor of others.

So what is capital?

Accumulated work , crystallized wealth .

But, a formidable injustice, in order for the product of labor – wealth – to acquire the character of capital through its accumulation, it is essential that its accumulation be carried out by others than its creators.

Workers, by processing and transforming the products of nature according to human needs and desires, create wealth . If this wealth remained impersonal—social—it would constitute common property and, multiplied and increased indefinitely through the efforts of all, it would be the source of general well-being.

Unfortunately, that’s not the case yet!

Wealth —created by labor—is, at its source, channeled, individualized, and appropriated by exploiters. It is thus transformed by them, for their selfish profit, into capital .

Therefore, from its very origin, capital appears as the product of theft.

Here’s the process: parasites—either because they’re scoundrels or because they possess a little “wealth” saved from their own production—accumulate “labor” which they swindle from its true producers and, through this fraudulent operation, build up capital. They carry out this “subtraction” very simply: if they are manufacturers, and assuming they employ workers producing, each per day, something worth fifteen francs, they will keep ten francs, under the pretext of overhead costs, return on capital, etc., and they will distribute the remaining one hundred francs as wages to the worker; if they are merchants, they will sell for eight francs what is worth three…

There are no nuances or distinctions to be made regarding the abusive and criminal levies perpetrated by the parasitic minority, to the detriment of the productive masses. Social swindle is perpetrated with the same intensity in all branches of human activity: the landowner exploits the peasant who cultivates the land, just as the factory owner exploits the worker, and the multitude of merchants, traders, intermediaries, etc., are all exploiters in the same way.

Equivalence of ownership and authority

Thus, a scrupulous examination of economic conditions reveals that society is divided into two classes, as distinct as they are hostile:

On one side, the thieves: the masters, capitalists and owners.

On the other side, the robbed: the enslaved — factory and workshop workers, employees, miners, peasants.

But society does not present itself with this schematic simplicity: here the thief, there the robbed.

Compared to the vast majority of victims, the thieves are minuscule in number. Therefore, if they had relied solely on physical strength or even individual prestige to perpetuate their privileges, their reign would have been short-lived. Thus, to compensate for their numerical inferiority, they resorted to cunning: to protect themselves against any potential revolt from their victims, the thieves cemented their plunder with principles: they invoked property rights , authority … Property, which is nothing more than authority over things; authority, which is nothing more than the property of human beings…

The brigands thus became privileged and, thanks to popular unconsciousness and ignorance, sanctified their crimes against humanity.

As expected, the revelation of the principles led to the establishment of a social layer of intermediate parasites – the pimps – whose mission consisted of the proclamation, justification, and defense of privileges.

The pimps — themselves privileged — have, through a tangle of poisonous institutions, collaborated in keeping the robbed under the yoke.

However, in times of crass ignorance, when the people’s spirit of inquiry was not to be feared, the tangle of parasitic institutions was not very complicated; it developed in parallel with the rise in the level of popular consciousness, and this is what explains why, nowadays, the number of social supporters is greater than it ever was.

Moreover, to gain greater acceptance, these parasites—priests, judges, military personnel—managed to give the institutions at the heart of which they had entrenched themselves an appearance of utility; this was to incite the naive to believe that social life was intimately linked to the functioning of these mechanisms of excess and oppression. Thus, human servitude was justified and legitimized: property and authority became the ultimate symbol ^of enslavement.

But it would be pointless to claim a primacy of appearance in humanity between the two forms of human constraint symbolized by the two “principles.” Neither precedes the other, neither derives from the other: they are complementary. In the earliest ages, they were one and the same, and if, in later times, a separation occurred, it was under the influence of the phenomena that, in humanity, brought about the division of labor. Just as the division of labor manifested itself in the useful functioning of society, so too did it manifest itself in institutions of subjugation. This is why one cannot reconcile the negation of property with the affirmation of authority, or, conversely, the affirmation of property with the negation of authority.

Property! Authority  !… are merely the divergent manifestations and expressions of a single “principle” which is concretely realized ⁱⁿ the realization and consecration of human servitude. There is therefore only a difference in perspective: viewed from one angle, slavery appears as a crime against property , while from another, it is seen as a crime against authority.

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I. Concrete or abstract entity ensuring the safeguarding or survival of a community, an institution, a value (Treasury of the French language).

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II. From the verb “concretize”: to make concrete, now replaced by “concretize”.

In reality, these “principles”—muzzles for the people—have materialized into oppressive institutions whose only change has been their facade throughout the ages. Currently, despite all the transformations in the property system and the modifications in the exercise of authority—transformations and modifications that are entirely superficial—submission, coercion, forced labor, hunger, and so on, are the lot of the working classes.

This is why the hell of wage labor is a grim inferno: the vast majority of human beings vegetate there, deprived of well-being and freedom. And in this inferno, despite the democratic veneer that masks it, misery and suffering flourish in abundance.

How to break free?

A day comes when, inevitably, the above reflections obsess the worker who, until then, emasculated by prejudices, led astray by bourgeois education, has remained voluntarily harnessed to the capitalist yoke, with the nonchalant apathy of an ox in the plow.

From that day forward, the instinct for revolt—which is simply the instinct for progress, made explosive by the stifling pressure that hinders its logical process—transforms the worker: he becomes aware of his own weakness; he sees the result of the isolation and selfishness promoted by the bourgeoisie. From then on, he feels the desire to connect with his fellow human beings in order to overcome his individual powerlessness, for he realizes that his weakness will become his strength through collective action and the practice of solidarity.

Moreover, the form of exploitation he endures encourages him to group together. Industry has clustered him with his fellow workers in workshops, factories, and mills. What could be more natural than to unite with his comrades? And this unconscious agreement has given rise to revolts, also unconscious, but whose relative success has fueled the development of corporate groups.

Therefore, the worker, whose conscience is awakening, perceives the need for grouping and, quite naturally, takes the path of the union.

The essential group

The corporate group is, in fact, the only center which, by its constitution, responds to the aspirations which drive the employee; it is the only aggregation of human beings resulting from the absolute identity of interests, since it has its reason for being in the form of production, on which it is modeled and of which it is only the extension.

What, in fact, is a trade union? An association of workers, united by the corporate bond.

This corporate coordination can manifest itself, depending on the environment, sometimes through the more circumscribed link of the trade or, in the enormous industrialization of the 20th ^century , encompass proletarians from various trades, but whose effort contributes to a common work.

However, regardless of the form preferred by activists or imposed by circumstances, whether the union movement is limited to the “trade” or extends to “industry,” the identity of the goal always emerges. It is:

I°) To constantly stand up to the exploiter; to force him to respect the improvements won; to thwart any attempt at regression; and also to strive to mitigate exploitation by demanding fragmentary improvements, such as: reduction of working hours, increase in wages, better hygiene, etc., modifications which, although they only concern details, are nonetheless effective attacks on capitalist privileges, of which they are a mitigation.

2) The union aims to prepare for a growing coordination of solidarity relations, so as to make possible, as quickly as possible, the expropriation of capitalism, the only basis that can serve as a starting point for a complete transformation of society. Only after this legitimate social restitution can all possibility of parasitism be eliminated. Only then, with no one obligated to work in the service of another—wage labor being abolished—will production become social in its purpose as well as in its source; at that point, economic life being a true amalgamation of reciprocal efforts, all exploitation will not only be abolished but will have become impossible.

Thus, thanks to the union, the social question manifests itself with such clarity and urgency that its obviousness is undeniable even to the least perceptive: the corporate group draws, without any possible ambiguity, the line between employees and employers. Thanks to it, society appears as it truly is: on one side, the workers—the robbed—and on the other, the exploiters—the thieves.

For this reason, because it is the only group that fully and constantly highlights the antagonism of interests and reveals society as divided into two distinct and irreconcilable classes, the trade union stands out as the essential group, the association par excellence. Therefore, it must take precedence over all other forms of human organization; all must be subordinate to it because, while some are very useful, it alone is indispensable. To disregard the trade union, to choose to ignore it and remain aloof from it, is tantamount, for the worker, to disregard their own fate. It is thus logical that all those who do not placidly accept human exploitation and who do not resign themselves to misery should flock to the trade union. Only there can they meet and work together, with the certainty of not making vain efforts. In a union, in fact, there is no possibility of ambiguity: given that there is a grouping based on the identity of interests, the utility is complete.

The affinity group

In this category of useful groups, but whose inevitability is not imposed on everyone, can be included the affinity groups which, for a long time, the various social and revolutionary schools have advocated as a basis for grouping and which some have not even hesitated to proclaim superior to the trade union.

An affinity group is a grouping of “ideas”, “opinions”, and not “interests”; it is the social circle, the study group, the People’s University ^I , etc.

In these groups there is intellectual cohesion, moral communion, identity of aspirations, similarities of hopes and views of the future, etc., but there is a lack of the material basis which can give these groups lasting vitality; being only the result of cerebral postulates — and not of tangible interests — they risk disintegrating when the aspirations which they synthesize cease to be in full harmony or when an achievement, too long in coming, dulls the energies.

It is to these symptoms of disintegration that we must attribute the stagnation of affinity groups. They can,

I. The initiative for the Popular Universities (UP) movement came from a former anarchist militant, Georges Deherme, founder in January 1898 of the study group “The Cooperative of Ideas for Higher Education and the Ethical and Social Education of the People”, a name inspired by the title of the journal La Coopération des idées, created by the same Deherme in February 1896. Some two years later, the group opened a premises at 19 rue Paul-Bert (in Paris II ^, in the Bastille district) and on October 9, 1899, the first UP was inaugurated in the Faubourg Saint-Antoine. Charles Guieysse, Deherme’s replacement as secretary of the Popular Universities (UPs), attempted to remedy their inherent flaw: that they had “not been desired nor spontaneously deemed necessary by those who were to benefit from them” (Émile Buré, “Les UP,” Le Mouvement socialiste, February ^1, 1902, no. 77, p. 215), by trying to transform them into genuine workers’ associations. However, despite a promising start—there were 124 UPs in 1901—the movement began to decline as early as 1902-1903, the very moment when the press ceased reporting on its activities. Many years later, in a text entitled “Les Universités populaires” (The Popular Universities), the poet and revolutionary syndicalist activist Marcel Martinet endeavored to draw lessons from the movement’s failure (Culture prolétarienne, [Librairie du Travail, 1935] Agone, 2004, pp. 81-85).

During periods of social upheaval, these groups experience considerable growth, but this is a superficial phenomenon because their recruitment is contingent upon new members accepting the prevailing theories, making recruitment difficult. Furthermore, because these groups lack any material interest, there is a tendency to become fixated on abstractions and to isolate themselves from the general population.

To join an affinity group, to find comfort in it, and to desire to return, one must already have undergone intellectual development, have grasped the full extent of the odiousness of current society, and desire its transformation. The unwitting worker who strays into this circle risks not finding satisfaction in the discussions that take place there, the significance of which he does not yet understand; therefore, there is a chance that, lacking the impetus of a tangible interest, he will lose interest and not return to this milieu.

Experience is there, demonstrating the veracity of the fact: the affinity groups which, for a quarter of a century, have proliferated, despite the intense propaganda of which they have been the focus, have not had regular growth; their development and vitality have been subordinated to individual activities to the point that, when these are slowed down or have been lacking, the affinity group has become dormant.

Despite this, it cannot be denied that the work of these groups has been fruitful; in the past period they have, in many circles, awakened popular consciousness and, by that very fact, facilitated the emergence of groups of various kinds, starting with trade unions.

Thus, this criticism of affinity groups is simply an indication that their work, however eminently good it may be, is not paramount; it cannot excuse participation in trade union action which, because it has its roots in the economic field, is the only one qualified to change working conditions and prepare and carry out social transformation.

Union autonomy

However superior a union may be to any other form of organization, it does not follow that it possesses an intrinsic life independent of the energy imparted to it by its members. This is why, to act as conscious union members, they must participate in the union’s work. And it would be a complete lack of understanding of what constitutes the strength of this organization to assume that simply paying dues is enough to make them fully committed. Certainly, paying dues regularly is good, but it represents only the smallest part of what a committed activist owes to themselves—and consequently, to the union. They must understand that the union’s value lies less in its cash reserves than in the combined, cohesive energy of its members.

The individual is the building block of the union. However, the depressive phenomenon that manifests itself in democratic societies, where universal suffrage is the norm, does not occur in the union member. In a democratic society, the voter can only exercise their will in an act of abdication: they are called upon to “give” their “vote” to the candidate they wish to have as their “representative.”

Union membership implies nothing of the sort, and even the most meticulous person wouldn’t there could discover the slightest infringement on human personality: afterwards, as before, the union member is what he was, afterwards, as before, autonomous he was, autonomous he remains.

By joining a union, the worker merely enters into a contract, always revocable, with comrades who are his equals in will and power and, at no time, will the opinions that he may be led to express, the acts in which he may participate have the suspensive or abdicative characteristics ^of the personality that distinguish and qualify political votes.

In a union, for example, the task involves appointing a union council responsible for administrative work. This “selection” should not be compared to an “election”; the voting method usually employed in such circumstances is merely a means of dividing labor and does not entail any delegation of authority. The functions of the union council, strictly defined, are purely administrative. The council performs its assigned tasks without ever undermining, replacing, or acting on behalf of its representatives.

The same can be said of all the decisions taken in the union: all are restricted to a defined and particular act, whereas, in the democratic field, the election implies that the elected official has received from his elector a blank check which allows him to decide and act as he pleases, on everything and for everything… without even being hindered by the possibly contrary will of his constituents whose opposition — however characteristic it may be — is ineffective, as long as the mandate of their elected official runs.

Therefore, there is no possible parallel — and even less confusion — between union action and participation in the disappointing tasks of politics.

In a well-functioning union, the union’s personality shines through without friction. Besides safeguarding its autonomy, it is only in this environment that it can reach its full potential.

Certainly, it is possible that, in some current groups, this fullness of life is not achieved. But this stagnation of development should never be a sufficient reason for workers—whatever their mentality—to distance themselves from the union. On the contrary! It is incumbent upon those who are aware of this inferiority to

This term, derived from the verb “to abdicate,” belongs to legal language: “abdicative” refers to an act by which one renounces a right

The union, of which they are a unit, contributes to its organic evolution. If the union were an institution with rigid structures, into which the working masses would inevitably have to be confined, a certain aversion might be understandable. However, this is not the case; the union is a living entity; it is the constantly evolving extension of the individuals who compose it and it is shaped by the mentality of its members. It is therefore incumbent upon them not to let it stagnate or become rigid under the influence of democratic stagnation.

It would be a grave mistake to attribute the responsibility for any shortcomings that may exist in certain groups to the very principle of the union. The opposite is true: if these shortcomings are observed in professional groups, it is because the unionized masses, still imbued with democratic ideals, have introduced into the union movement the political errors with which they have been saturated for far too long. Consequently, it is incumbent upon discerning activists who perceive these shortcomings not to use them as a pretext for disengaging from the union and isolating themselves from it, but rather to redouble their efforts to amicably point out the danger and strive to eliminate it.

Moreover, union activity remedies these flaws, which are regressive tendencies, through its own inherent impulse: spontaneously, through normal development, the residues of democracy are eliminated.

It is inevitable that this should be the case, for there is no possibility of agreement between the two doctrines: syndicalism and democracy are two opposing poles that exclude and neutralize each other. Examples abound, which everyone can recall: in all economic groups where politics has infiltrated, disintegration and decline have been observed.

This is because democracy is a social superfetation, a parasitic and external outgrowth, while trade unionism is the logical manifestation of an increase in life; it is a rational coherence of human beings and that is why, instead of restricting their individuality, it prolongs and develops it.

The union, a school of willpower

Socrates’ “Know thyself!” is complemented, in the trade union, by the maxim “Do your own business!”

Thus, the union establishes itself as a school of will: its preponderant role results from the will of its members and, if it is the superior form of association, it is because it is the condensation of workers’ forces, made effective by their direct action, a sublimated form of the conscious activity of the wills of the proletarian class.

The bourgeoisie maneuvered to preach resignation and patience to the people, leading them to hope that progress would miraculously occur without any effort on their part, thanks to external state intervention. This was merely the perpetuation, in a less naive form, of age-old, religiously-obsessed beliefs ^. Meanwhile, while the leaders attempted to substitute this disappointing illusion with the equally disappointing religious mirage, the workers, in the shadows, with indomitable and unwavering tenacity, were building the emancipatory force that is the union.

This organization, a true school of willpower, was formed and developed during the 19th ^century . It is thanks to it, thanks to its economic structure, that workers were able to resist the inoculation of the political virus and defy any attempt at division.

I. In his article “The Vocabulary of Anticlericalism in France, from the Dreyfus Affair to the Separation of Church and State (1898-1905)” (Mots, 1982, no. 5, p. 75), the linguist Jean-Paul Honoré places the word’s appearance around 1894. However, the term is attested earlier in anarchist literature: a certain Carteron uses it in an article published a few years prior (“Anthropomorphism,” Autonomie individuelle, January-February 1888, no. 8). And even earlier, in September 1867, Jules Vallès was already using it in a rather nasty article about Baudelaire: “You see, that braggart of immorality, he was at heart a religious fanatic, not a skeptic…”

It was in the first half of the 19th ^century that corporate groups were formed, despite the prohibition which struck them. Persecution raged mercilessly against all those who dared to unionize, so they had to be resourceful to avoid repression. Therefore, to organize themselves without too much risk, the workers disguised their resistance associations under innocuous guises, such as mutual aid societies.

Charitable groups have never been a source of concern for the bourgeoisie, who know perfectly well that, being mere palliatives, they cannot, in any way, constitute a cure for the ills of poverty. Hope in charity is a soporific poultice, good only for preventing the exploited from reflecting on their sad fate and seeking a solution. This is why mutual aid societies have always been tolerated, if not encouraged, by those in power.

The workers took advantage of the tolerance shown to these groups; they met under the pretext of providing mutual aid in case of illness, building up pensions, etc., but they pursued a more assertive goal: they were concerned with improving their living conditions and aimed to resist employer demands. Their tactics did not always succeed in deceiving the authorities, who, alerted by employer denunciations, often cracked down on these dubious mutual aid societies.

Later, when, through hardening themselves and acting on their own, the workers felt strong enough to defy the law, they threw off the mutualist mask and, boldly, they named their groups resistance societies.

Great title! Expressive and clear. It is in itself a program of action. It proves how much — despite the fact that corporate groups were still embryonic — workers felt the need not to follow politicians and also not to combine their interests with those of the bourgeoisie, but, on the contrary, to stand up to it and in opposition.

Instinctively, this was the beginning of the class struggle, the clear and definitive formula of which would be given by the International Workingmen’s Association, which proclaimed that “the emancipation of the workers must be the work of the workers themselves.”

This formula, a luminous affirmation of the working class’s power, purified of all the dross of democratic idealism, was to serve as the guiding principle for the entire proletarian movement. It was, moreover, simply the open and categorical affirmation of the tendencies germinating within the people. This is abundantly demonstrated by the theoretical and tactical concordance between the hitherto underground and imprecise “syndicalist” movement and the initial declaration of the International.

Having established as a principle that workers can only rely on their own strength, the International’s declaration complemented the proclamation of the proletariat’s necessary autonomy by indicating that it is only through its direct action that it can obtain tangible results; it added:

“Considering:

 “That the economic subjugation of the worker to the holders of the means of production, that is to say the sources of life, is the primary cause of his political, moral and material servitude;

 “That the economic emancipation of the workers is consequently the great goal to which every political movement must be subordinated as a means… ^I  “

Therefore, the International did not simply proclaim workers’ autonomy clearly; it supplemented its declaration by affirming that political maneuvering and changes to the form of government should not be tolerated. This passage from the declaration of the International Workingmen’s Association gave rise to a long debate between Marx’s and Bakunin’s followers regarding the scope and meaning of these words. Some interpreted it as a warning to all those who might be tempted to collaborate with the political parties of the petty bourgeoisie, while others saw it as confirmation of the primacy of economic action. Marx and his followers, for their part, conceived of it as an affirmation of the necessity for workers to intervene in the political arena to work towards their economic emancipation, to impress workers to the point of making them forget economic realities.

The current union movement is simply the logical continuation of that of the International; the agreement is absolute, and it is on the same level that we continue the work of our elders. However, when the International laid its foundations, the workers’ will was still too short-sighted, the class consciousness of the proletariat too underdeveloped for the economic orientation to predominate without possible deviation. The working class had to endure the divergent influence of unscrupulous politicians who, seeing in the people only a means to achieve their goals, praised them, hypnotized them and betrayed them. On the other hand, she also allowed herself to be swayed by men of loyalty and selflessness who, imbued with democratic ideals, attached too much importance to statist superfluity.

It is thanks to the dual influence of these elements that, in the current period (which begins with the carnage of 1871), the trade union movement languished for a long time, torn in various directions. On the one hand, unscrupulous politicians strove to tame the unions and bring them under the government’s control; on the other, socialists of various schools sought to impose their own tendencies within them. Thus, both aimed to transform the unions from “groups of interests” into “groups of affinities.”

The union movement had too strong a foundation—it is an inescapable necessity—for these divergent efforts to halt its development. Today, it continues the work of the International, that of the pioneers of the “resistance societies” and the first groups. Certainly, the trends have become more defined, the theories more precise, but there is an absolute concordance between the trade union movement of the 19th ^century and that of the 20th ^century : one flows from the other! There is logical growth here, an ascent toward an ever more conscious will, and a manifestation of the increasingly coordinated strength of the proletariat, which blossoms into a growing unity of aspirations and action.

Union work

The work of the union has a dual purpose: it must pursue, with tireless rigor, the improvement of the present conditions of the working class. But, without being obsessed with this transitional work, the workers must concern themselves with making possible — and imminent — the fundamental act of complete emancipation: capitalist expropriation .

The superiority of the union over other forms of individual cohesion lies in the fact that the work of partial improvements and the more decisive work of social transformation are carried out simultaneously and concurrently. And it is precisely because the trade union responds to this dual tendency and confronts it without stifling any initiative, without stifling any aspiration, without sacrificing the present to the future any more than the future to the present. It is for all these reasons that the trade union stands out as the quintessential form of organization.

The present work

In the present, union action aims at achieving partial, gradual improvements, which, far from being an end in themselves, can only be considered as a means to demand more and wrest new improvements from capitalism.

I. We will find in the famous “Charter” of Amiens the idea of ​​the “dual daily and future task” of trade unionism.

The union offers employers a surface of resistance that is in geometric proportion to the resistance of its members; it curbs the exploiter’s appetites; it imposes upon him the respect of working conditions less draconian than those resulting from the individual contract endured by the isolated worker. To this leonine contract, between the armored boss of capital and the destitute proletarian, it substitutes the collective contract.

So, facing the employer is the union which mitigates the odiousness of the “labor market”, of the supply of labor, by curbing, to a certain extent, the unfortunate consequences of the abundance of the unemployed; which imposes on the capitalist the respect of the workers and also, in a proportion in relation to his strength, demands of him the abandonment of scraps of privileges.

This issue of partial improvements has served as a pretext for attempting to sow discord within corporate organizations. Politicians, who thrive on the confusion of ideas and are distressed by the growing repulsion unions feel for their personality and their dangerous intervention, have tried to transfer the semantic squabbles with which they deceive voters into the business world. They have sought to create divisions and split the unions into two camps, classifying workers as reformists and revolutionaries. To further discredit the latter, they have labeled them “all-or-nothing” and falsely claimed they were opposed to the improvements currently possible.

These absurdities are only surpassed by their stupidity. There is no worker, whatever his mentality or aspirations, who, on principle or tactic, would stubbornly insist on working ten hours for a boss, instead of eight, while earning six francs instead of seven.

Yet it is by circulating this idiotic nonsense that politicians hope to alienate the working class from the economic system and dissuade them from taking matters into their own hands and working to achieve ever greater well-being and freedom. They count on the poison of these calumnies to disintegrate the unions by reviving within them the idle and destructive disputes that have disappeared since politics was removed from them.

What gives these maneuvers the appearance of a pretext is that the unions, cured by the harsh lessons of experience of their hopes in government intervention, harbor a legitimate distrust of it. They know that the state, whose function is to act as the policeman of capital, has, by its very nature, a tendency to tip the scales in favor of employers. Therefore, when a reform comes to them through legal channels, they do not seize upon it with the voracious appetite of a frog on a red rag concealing the hook; they accept it with appropriate caution, especially since this reform will only be implemented if the workers are sufficiently organized to enforce its application by force.

Unions are all the more wary of government handouts because they have often witnessed their harmful effects. Thus, they hold in very low esteem “gifts” such as the Higher Labor Council (CST ⁾ and the Labor Councils, institutions created solely to counterbalance and thwart the work of syndicalists. Similarly, they are careful not to be enthusiastic about arbitration, or mandatory and regulated strikes, the clearest consequence of which would be to weaken the workers’ capacity for resistance. Similarly, the legal capacity and commercialization granted to workers’ organizations hold no appeal for them, as they see in it a desire to make them abandon the terrain of social struggle and drag them onto the capitalist terrain where the antagonism of class struggle would give way to financial squabbles.

The Higher Labor Council (CST) originated from a proposal presented in January 1890 by Gustave Mesureur on behalf of a group of Radical and Socialist deputies. The CST was intended to be an advisory body, attached to the Ministry of Commerce, and later the Ministry of Labor, tasked with issuing recommendations after debates held between representatives of employers, workers, and experts in social economics. The CST, established by decree in January 1891, initially comprised forty-seven members chosen by the Ministry of Commerce, including twelve representing workers, fifteen employers, and thirteen members of Parliament.

In 1899, Millerand made some significant changes by decree, increasing the total number of CST members to sixty-six, comprising one-third employer representatives, one-third workers, and one-third prominent figures (members of parliament, senators, social experts, etc.). Millerand, Jaurès, and Briand were among its members, as well as the economist Charles Gide. Notable among the workers’ representatives were Arthur Lamendin*, Auguste Keufer*, and Isidore Finance, from the Painters’ Union. The CST was the target of constant criticism from representatives of the revolutionary wing of the CGT.

But, despite the unions’ deep distrust of the government’s goodwill towards them, they are far from averse to achieving piecemeal improvements. They simply want real ones. That is why, instead of waiting for them to be granted by the government, they wrest them from the jaws of a struggle, through direct action. If, as happens, the improvement they demand is subject to the law, the unions pursue it by external pressure on the public authorities and not by trying to get specially mandated deputies into parliaments, a childish little game that could continue for centuries without a majority appearing in favor of the desired reform.

When the desired improvement must be wrested directly from the capitalist, it is still through vigorous pressure that corporate groups manifest their will. Their means are varied, although always based on the principle of direct action: depending on the case, they use strikes , sabotage , boycotts , and the ” label ^II ” (a play on words combining “label” and “label” ).

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I. Pouget is referring here to the possibility for trade unions, recognized by the 1884 law, to acquire and own property, to lend, to borrow, to sue, etc. Revolutionary syndicalists see in these legal possibilities given to trade unions the desire of the public authorities to see them engage, like trade unions in other countries, in mutual aid activities (sickness benefits, unemployment benefits, etc.) to the detriment of the work of resisting capitalist exploitation.

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II. The theme of boycott and sabotage (or “sabotage”) was first introduced within the CGT by the libertarian Paul Delesalle, who, at the congress held in Toulouse in July 1897, read a report on the subject probably written by Pouget. The text was taken up shortly afterward in the form of a pamphlet, printed in one hundred thousand copies. A few years later, Pouget would forget his famous pamphlet, *Le Sabotage*, which has been reprinted several times in recent years (by Mille et une nuits in 2004 and by Le Flibustier in 2009). Pouget is generally considered to have introduced sabotage and boycotts into French trade unionism, practices he supposedly discovered during his forced stay in Great Britain. However, it is very likely that, even before going into exile in London, Pouget was already aware of these practices simply by reading Pierre Kropotkin’s book, The Conquest of Bread, available in French from 1890. In the chapter “Objections” of this book, Kropotkin wrote this: “You should have seen last winter the terror caused among English industrialists when a few agitators began to preach the go-canny theory, ‘ bad pay, bad work: take it easy, don’t hurt yourself, and waste everything you can!'” (The Conquest of Bread, 2nd ^edition , Tresse & Stock Publishers. 1892, p. 207 [book republished in 2006 by Éditions du Sextant]).

But whatever improvement is achieved, it must always constitute a reduction of capitalist privileges, be a partial expropriation.

Thus, when one is not satisfied with political rhetoric, when one analyzes the methods and value of trade union action, the subtle distinction between “reformist” and “revolutionary” vanishes and one is led to conclude that the only truly reformist workers are revolutionary trade unionists.

Planning the future

In addition to their daily work of defense, unions have the task of preparing for the future.

The producer group must be the cell of the new society. It is impossible to conceive of a real social transformation on any other basis. Therefore, it is essential that producers prepare themselves for the task of taking ownership and reorganizing that must fall to them and that they alone are capable of carrying out.

The label is a union mark (known as a “bill of lading”) affixed to a product. According to the definition given by the Book Federation in 1910, it is “proof that the employer employs unionized workers, pays the union wage, and complies with apprenticeship regulations and laws concerning workplace hygiene.” The practice of labeling is, in a way, the positive equivalent of a boycott.

It is a social revolution, not a political revolution, that we want to bring about. These are two distinct phenomena, and the tactics that lead to one divert attention from the other.

For the purpose we are pursuing, any distraction in the political arena is a form of propaganda diverted from its intended goal. Indeed, supposing that, thanks to parliamentary agitation, an electoral majority were to emerge and that this resulted in a takeover by a socialist government, what would happen? Could this government, through decrees and laws, bring about social transformation? It is highly improbable. What would occur is similar to what happened during the Paris Commune of 1871 when the Revolutionary Assembly decreed that workers could take possession of workshops abandoned by their employers: since the economic education of the workers was unfortunately lacking, this decree remained virtually a dead letter.

It might be objected that the hypothesis of a socialist government’s inability to bring about social transformation is truly pessimistic. However, it is merely the logical deduction from the necessities of political agitation: in this arena, the aim is not so much to teach voters how to think as to train them to vote “correctly.” The proof lies in the fact that constituencies won by socialists later returned a majority to the bourgeoisie. Whatever underhanded means the reactionaries employed to achieve this result, it must be acknowledged that it reveals a relatively underdeveloped socialist consciousness among the voters who thus shifted their allegiances.

It is therefore absolutely essential to become familiar with the work of economic transformation. This can only be done within the union. Only there can one examine the conditions under which the workers of the corporation will have to operate, in order to:

I) eliminate the capitalists;
2 ) reorganize production and ensure the distribution of products on communist bases ^I.

Until this preliminary educational work is sufficiently advanced to permeate an active minority powerful enough to thwart the forces of the bourgeoisie, any hope of complete emancipation cannot materialize.

Until workers become sufficiently familiar with the General Strike ^II , which, in the current circumstances, appears to be the only way to overthrow the capitalist and governmental order, they will have to resign themselves to languishing in wage labor.

It is therefore important to fully grasp the scale that this expropriating general strike movement will have to have; it must be understood that it will have the consequence of changing the orientation of society, its external organization, but also of changing its foundations completely.

The major cogs of governmental superfluity, which today seem indispensable—the ministries, the administrations—will be abandoned; life will withdraw from them, because new bodies will have taken over the few functions of social coordination that created the illusion of their usefulness. These main bodies will be the large corporate federations, which will henceforth be responsible for regulating production and satisfying consumer demands.

Furthermore, in workers’ activity centers, the Bourse du travail will replace the municipality and become a communist center, which will eliminate the municipal center, the town hall.

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I. Read above, note II, p. 55.

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II. Regarding the debate sparked by the theme of the general strike between trade unionists and socialists at the turn of the 19th ^{and 20th} centuries , we refer readers to the collection *Dispossessing the Proprietors: The General Strike in the “Heroic Times” of Revolutionary Syndicalism (1895-1906)*, Agone, 2008.

The dominant feature of this new social aggregation will therefore be an economic decentralization that will flourish on the ruins of capitalism and state and municipal centralization ^I.

These problems of social reorganization urgently require the union to study them. In each case, the question must be asked: “What would we do in the event of a general strike? ^“  In each case, depending on the trade or industry, the answer may vary regarding the methods of action… but in all, the same goal will be affirmed: to educate and prepare so that the anticipated revolution will be fruitful.

And we would be wrong to neglect this work of gymnastics, both educational and speculative; it is necessary to pursue it with as much tenacity as the more down-to-earth task of momentary improvements.

Indeed, the value of the corporate grouping stems from the perfect balance between these two aspects of union work.

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I. In the original text, “state and municipal decentralization” is mistakenly mentioned here.

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II. In fact, the delegates present at the 1901 Lyon congress were keen to place on the agenda of the confederation’s debates the study of the general strike, not only “from a combative point of view” but also with regard to “the attitude of the proletariat in the aftermath of a triumphant general strike” (circular cited in Maxime Leroy, La Coutume ouvrière, op. cit., p. 539). The questionnaire was as follows: “1) How would your union act to transform itself from a group of struggle into a group of production? 2) How would you proceed to take possession of the relevant equipment? 3) How do you envision the operation of the reorganized factories and workshops? 4) If your union is a group for road maintenance, goods transport, passenger transport, or goods distribution, how do you envision its operation? 5) What would your relations be with your trade or industry federation once the reorganization is complete?” 6) On what basis would the distribution of products be carried out and how would the productive groups obtain the raw materials? 7) What role would the Labor Exchanges play in the transformed society and what would their task be from the point of view of statistics and the distribution of products? (Ibid., p. 539.) However, on the last day, the delegates decided not to address these subjects: “the question of the right to strike, threatened by some court rulings, […] appeared more urgent and took its place on the agenda” (ibid., p. 540).

The union, as we have just analyzed it, is therefore not a group of stagnation, but a group of transformation. If it were limited to mutualist works ^, if its only objective were to heal the wounds of life’s bruises—which is feasible without undermining the capitalist order—its social impact would be nil.

It is not that! First and foremost, the union is a group for struggle; its constant concern is to seek out the causes of social evil, to study them, to fight them, to annihilate them. This combative work involves unavoidable necessities; the union is like individuals; it cannot confine itself to pretentious isolation and, to increase its strength, it must come into contact with its peers, establish relationships with other unions.

Moreover, the economic organization of society compels the union to this expansion of action. The syndicat is nothing like a fortified enclosure where one can shut oneself away and ignore the rest of the world; it is open to all, and if, through narrow-mindedness, a privileged corporation were to concern itself only with itself, the influx of outsiders would quickly remind it that solidarity is an essential condition of life.

This essential agreement between unions is achieved in the Bourses du Travail (labor exchanges) and through the federations. On this subject, see Book VI, Chapter 6 (“Mutualism and Trade Unionism”), of La Coutume ouvrière (ibid., pp. 762–769), Maxime Leroy’s masterpiece. There, one reads, in particular: “The French Bourses and federations created services with a mutualist character: the ‘Sou du soldat’ (soldier’s penny) for comrades in service; the strike fund; the viaticum (roadside assistance for workers on the road); but in the transition from the old mutual aid societies to the confederated unions, the mutualist principles were significantly transformed; they serve to fight against employers. The proponents of mutualism within the unions essentially revived the old professional mutualism, but committed it fully, no longer only partially and indirectly, to the specific struggle of the unions.” It is no longer simply a matter of helping one another in a spirit of foresight, in all cases of distress, including unemployment and old age, but of fighting against the very causes of this distress.” (Ibid., pp. 768–769.)

Appendix: Union Functioning

In addition to the theoretical concepts above, it is useful to add a few brief, and necessarily concise, practical indications:

How do you go about creating a union?

Nothing could be simpler. The few comrades who take the initiative and meet for this purpose draft statutes, as concise as possible, and file them with the town hall. In addition to this, one formality is required: to file with the town hall the names of the administrators who must be of French nationality (the administration can be reduced, if desired, to its simplest expression: a secretary and a treasurer; but, most of the time, it is supplemented by a union council which can have as many members as desired).

A union can also be formed outside the scope of the Code, without regard for the 1884 law on trade unions ^. It is enough to group together and operate without filing the bylaws or the names of the directors. Until recent years, many unions resisted the law, and if their number has decreased, it is because unions feel strong enough to operate without any legal constraints.

The method of grouping. — Depending on the environment, the union is formed by profession or by specific industries. Usually, it groups workers of the profession and similar ones. Under the pretext that the law did not clearly define it (I. This refers to the law legalizing unions, known as the “Waldeck-Rousseau Law,” adopted on March 21, 1884).

Although it is stipulated that state and municipal workers may unionize, obstacles have been placed in the way of these comrades’ organization. Let them not be alarmed; let them disregard the law, let them unionize, let them be strong! and the authorities will respect their organizations.

In large companies, such as Le Creusot, or in a vast enterprise like the railways, the union must unite workers of all categories; the form of organization is dictated by the structure of the management. Indeed, it is clear that the workers in these large companies would have little strength for resistance or demands if they formed fragmented unions.

One question fascinates union activists: that of grouping by trade or by industry. The former can be criticized for perpetuating a sense of camaraderie; but, whatever individual preferences, what must be avoided is the union slipping into becoming a group based on opinion. Unions dominated by “politics” and those labeled “irregular labor” groups, where workers from diverse trades converge, fall into this category. These groups, despite the union label, are merely social groups where affinity prevails over self-interest. For too long, “politics” has been the stumbling block of unions; it is up to activists to ensure that the mistakes of the past are not repeated.

As for the unions of irregular workers, they group comrades according to their opinions and open the door to all the dangers of the past; if all workers did the same, there would be no more unions: there would only be social groups. Furthermore, day-to-day operations are too far removed from their control, and what’s more, they can only speculate on the expropriation process in a very abstract way, and not from a corporate perspective.

Membership fees. — For the union to do propaganda, it needs men… and also money!

A contribution is therefore necessary. How much? The least, 50 centimes; the best, 1 franc per month… A small expense indeed, and one that can easily be recouped by scratching a few drinks at the bistro.

However, we shouldn’t be so deluded as to believe that a well-stocked union fund can overcome capitalist ill will. That’s the exception! In most cases, partial strikes only succeed thanks to the support of all the unions. Therefore, the best union fund is one that practices solidarity, that helps comrades in struggle… and those who give will receive, when needed. Consequently, the union fund should primarily be established: 1) for propaganda; 2) for solidarity.

General Assemblies. — The union council executes the decisions of the union’s general assembly, which remains sovereign. All unions must attend the assemblies; if they neglect to do so, they must acquiesce to the decisions made. It cannot be otherwise, without falling back into the dangers of democracy where the reckless and the weak hinder the energetic. The decisions of the general assembly must therefore be final, regardless of the number of members present. The assembly may find it useful, on a serious matter, to consult all members by referendum, but it must decide to do so. If the union council were to organize a referendum at its own discretion in order to avoid executing the decisions made, it would be committing nothing less than a small union coup: it would be introducing, within the union, the political system that stifles conscious initiatives under the weight of majorities that are as compact as they are sheep-like.

I. Pouget’s remark is very characteristic of the feelings of leading union activists on the issue of alcoholism among the working class, a topic raised during certain trade union congresses (the one held by the CGT in Rennes in 1898 placed it second on its agenda). It is obviously no coincidence that Eugène Guérard*, one of the first prominent figures in the CGT at the very beginning of the century, signed an article entitled “Alcohol” in the very first issue (December 16-23, 1900) of La Voix du Peuple.

Mutualism. — Some tendencies have persisted, stemming from the necessities that once led unions to disguise their economic activities under mutualist guises. There are unions that engage in mutual aid, provide sickness benefits, maintain pension funds, and so on. This presents a danger that should keep comrades vigilant; not that mutualism is inherently bad, but because it could lead unions astray from their core mission. The union is an organization for struggle, and it would be desirable for all mutualist activities not to be tied to it and instead to be funded by separate contributions.

The same can be said of cooperation, of consumption, and especially production. If we want to do it, let it be alongside the union. To act otherwise would risk channeling the corporate organization, diverting it from its direction, and would diminish the character of a social struggle organization which is its raison d’être.

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III. The Party of Labour

Its definition

The Labour Party ^[8] carries within itself its definition: it is the grouping of workers into a homogeneous bloc; it is the autonomous organisation of the working class into an aggregate based on the economic terrain; it is, by its origins, by its essence, resistant to any compromise with bourgeois elements.

At the base – the cell of the Labour Party – is the union, and it is through the contact between trade unions, through their solidarity, that the Labour Party reveals itself, manifests itself and acts. The union is affiliated, on the one hand, with its national corporate federation; on the other hand, with its departmental union. In turn, the federative bodies of these two categories federate with each other, and their cohesion constitutes the unifying grouping of workers’ forces and interests: the General Confederation of Labour.

This federalism, with its concentric circles, each permeating the other, is a marvelous amplifier of workers’ power; the component units mutually reinforce one another, and the particular strength of each is increased by the support of all the others. A union, isolated and relying only on its own resources and energy, would have only limited action; whereas, by virtue of its affiliation with the Party of Labor, it benefits from the considerable strength that this unified body imparts to it.

This enormous force—immeasurable because it is constantly growing—is the result of the grouping on the economic front. Only on this basis can such a vigorous organization be formed, one that has nothing to fear from the interference of any disruptive element. Indeed, since the very fabric of this grouping is the class interest of the proletariat, any weakening of its revolutionary and protest-driven force is futile, and any attempt to divert it is doomed to failure from the outset.

The Labour Party is a party of interests. It disregards the opinions of its members; it recognizes and coordinates only the interests—material, moral, and intellectual—of the working class. Its ranks are open to all the exploited, without distinction of political or religious opinion.

Yes, the Labour Party ignores opinions, whatever they may be! On the other hand, it pursues human exploitation in whatever form it manifests itself.

A worker with baroque philosophical or political views—who believes in some God or in the State—will have his place alongside his comrades within this party. But what is condemned in this party is the exploitation of theological, political, or philosophical ideas; what is disapproved of is the intervention of the priest or the politician, both of whom profit from speculation on beliefs.

In this party, all the exploited have their place, despite the fact that many of them (in today’s society where everything is absurd and criminal) are forced to take on useless, or even harmful, tasks.

The arms factory worker, the warship builder, etc., performs harmful work; they are doubly victimized by the flawed social organization, since, in addition to being exploited, they have the disadvantage of contributing to a harmful endeavor. However, their place is entirely within the Labor Party.

On the contrary, the harmful individual by virtue of their personal function – such as the informer ^– is ostracized. This person is a parasite of the most repugnant kind: originating from the working class, they have debased themselves with the most filthy tasks; consequently, they have a place only within the bourgeoisie.

The Labour Party is thus distinguished from all other parties by this fundamental reason: by uniting those who work against those who live off human exploitation, it coordinates interests, not opinions. Consequently, there is inevitably a unity of views within its ranks. There may be (and there are!) among its members more or less moderate, more or less revolutionary tendencies; but these minor differences do not undermine or dissolve the syndicalist unity that results from the shared interests. This capacity to absorb individual differences, under the influence of the agreement that necessarily arises from the community of interests, gives the Labour Party a superiority of vitality and action, and protects it from the flaws that afflict political parties.

Valuable information on the role of informers in the fight against the workers’ unions of the time can be found in Charles Malato’s novel, La Grande Grève, roman social ([Librairie des Publications populaires, [1905] Le Goût de l’être/Encrage, 2009).

In all parties—except the Labour Party—the dominant objective is “politics,” and side by side, according to the similarity of their opinions, are lumped together men whose interests diverge—exploiters and exploited, and there are no exceptions! This is the characteristic of all democratic parties. All are an incoherent hodgepodge of men whose interests are opposed.

This anomaly is not unique to bourgeois democratic parties. It is also the flaw of socialist parties which, once embarked on the slippery slope of parliamentarism, end up stripping away the specific characteristics of socialism and becoming nothing more than democratic parties, simply with a more pronounced appearance.

Increasingly, capitalists, bosses, and others are converting to socialism, finding it all the easier to reconcile their parasitic existence with the public display of their convictions. One of the reasons these recruits from the enemy camp are drawn is the shift towards parliamentarianism. Since the theory of seizing public power has, if not completely eliminated, at least relegated revolutionary concerns to the background, appetites have been whetted. These defectors from the bourgeoisie have anticipated the benefits of proclaiming themselves socialists, and they have cherished the hope of thereby acquiring a dominant position. So much so that some discover themselves to be “socialists” as others become lawyers or liquor merchants. Is it considered a career—an excellent way to get ahead?

The Party of Labour has nothing to fear from these dangers. Simply because its foundation is the class interest of the proletariat, and because its actions are manifested in the economic sphere, it is impossible for individuals to rely on it, or claim allegiance to it, to satisfy personal ambitions. The contradiction is fundamental and irreconcilable. Indeed, since the fulfillment of personal ambitions can only be achieved in the realm of “politics,” those who attempt such maneuvers and pursue a particular and selfish goal within the Party of Labour will only achieve one result: their exclusion from the working class.

The same phenomenon occurs as when a worker becomes a boss: although this “upstart” may still be motivated by good intentions and retain his revolutionary aspirations, he normally eliminates himself from corporate groups — his class interests have become different.

The same is true of the “upstart” in politics: he quickly ceases to be active in the unions and, most often, once he has achieved his goals, raised to a desired position, he voluntarily eliminates himself and ceases to be active within the economic organization.

Now, if individual deviations are incompatible with the organic constitution of the Party of Labour, it is all the more inconceivable that it should, as a whole, undergo a deviation that would amount to nothing less than its own negation. By the very fact that its constitutive basis is the class interest of the proletariat, it can never, at any time, and in any way, be used to satisfy ambitions.

It cannot become a party of “politicians”. Besides the fact that this would be falling back into the errors of the past, which exhausted the working class in sterile struggles and vain efforts for itself (but not vain and sterile for those to whom it consented to give a leg up!), this overall deviation would amount to the assertion that the proletariat, abandoning the substance for the shadow, would disdain to conquer economic and social improvements, to absorb itself entirely in the pursuit of political illusions.

Therefore, just as it is inconceivable that the working class could abandon its interests, it is also inconceivable that the Labour party could transform itself into a democratic party.

Its necessity

The Labour Party is a direct emanation of capitalist society; it is the mode of aggregation of proletarian forces, which the working class logically arrives at as soon as it becomes aware of its interests.

Present-day society is a composite of two classes whose interests are in opposition: the working class and the bourgeois class; consequently, it is natural that each of them should condense to its social pole — the workers at one, the exploiters at the opposite social pole.

The condensation of the working class constitutes the party of Labor; it is therefore the appropriate grouping for the form of exploitation and that is why it reveals itself spontaneously without any preconceived idea presiding over its coordination.

It is superfluous to dwell on demonstrating the existence, within society, of two antagonistic social classes which, far from tending to merge into a homogeneous whole, only accentuate their discord. This is such an obvious truth that it is unnecessary to elaborate on it.

This irreconcilable antagonism is the consequence of the dominant class’s appropriation of all the vital forces of society—means of production, property, and wealth of all kinds. It follows that the lower class is forced, in order to survive, to submit to the conditions imposed upon it by the appropriators.

This subjugation of the proletarian to the capitalist, who, in exchange for his labor power, receives a wage significantly lower than the value of the labor he produces, is proclaimed by the bourgeoisie as a natural phenomenon. It even goes so far as to assert the immutability of wage labor—unperturbed in its assertions by the successive disappearance of slavery and serfdom, which should warn it against the absurdity of claiming that property (in the form in which it is held) is the sole exception to the laws of life, which are movement and transformation. However, while asserting that wage laborers – as a class – are doomed to eternal exploitation, it finds it clever to delude them with the chimera of individual emancipation, by making the possibility of escaping wage labor and taking rank in the capitalist class shine in the eyes of its victims.

Besides the fact that these hopes have the merit, for the bourgeoisie, of making the exploited bear their bad fate with patience, they neutralize or at least slow down the emergence of class consciousness in the proletariat.

The education and instruction that young generations are given has no other purpose; they are subjected to a method of intellectual emasculation, based on the rehashing of prejudices and seasoned with sermons on resignation and also with incitements to a fierce selfishness.

It is explained that, in today’s society, everyone gets the bed they make for themselves and the place they deserve; that to “get ahead” one must be hardworking, honest, sober, intelligent, etc. What is not said, but is implied, is that to these “qualities” one must add another: one must be unscrupulous and ruthless, without regard for one’s fellow human beings.

Life, from a bourgeois point of view, is a continuous struggle between humans; society is a closed field where everyone has enemies in everyone else.

Misled by these sophisms, the proletarian initially dreams of an individual escape from wage labor. Since work leads to everything, and since, with order and perseverance, one becomes wealthy, he will become wealthy! Wealth, in his eyes, is simply independence and freedom won, and well-being assured. Alas! He must abandon his dreams. Reality grips him, and he must admit that it is materially impossible for workers to acquire the desired comfort. To emancipate himself individually, he would need to own his tools of production and the means to use them. However, modern production, formidablely industrialized, demands such considerable investments that it would be madness for a worker to even consider saving from his wages the capital necessary to acquire a factory.

This operation can only be carried out successfully by “saving” not on the pay of a single worker, but on the wages of dozens and hundreds of them. Now, it is quite clear that whoever engages in this skimming of a portion of the labor from a collective of workers is not just a worker—he is an exploiter, and the fortune he acquires is the product of theft from his fellow workers.

Certainly, it sometimes happens that proletarians rise above their class; thanks to exceptionally favorable circumstances, powerful individuals, unscrupulous in their choice of methods, manage to infiltrate the bourgeoisie. There are even some who, from working-class origins (a Carnegie, a Rockefeller, etc.), have become kings of gold.

The bourgeoisie has taken these upstarts as its own. It welcomes them with all the more pleasure because, by infusing it with new blood, they consolidate its privileges; on the other hand, it exhibits them, as peremptory arguments, to demonstrate that it is easy for “thrifty” workers to become bourgeois.

It would be naive for workers to be lured by this enticement and to indulge in the hope of such opportunities. It would be like indulging in the same old song as the shepherdesses of legend, dreaming that a prince charming would come and ask for their hand in marriage.

And then what?… Even if it were true that the most gifted of the proletariat could rise to fortune, the situation of the masses would not be changed: the workers would continue to toil for their exploiters, to suffer materially and morally, with no other prospect than to rest in the grave.

Therefore, individual escape from wage labor, which, moreover, necessitates the exploitation of their fellow workers by those who have risen to the top, is not a remedy for the social ill afflicting the proletariat. These “escapes” can only manifest themselves on a limited scale and involve only changes in individual circumstances, without affecting in any way the fate of all the workers who continue to toil for the benefit of the masters and managers.

Moreover, even if the number of those who achieve relative comfort, or even wealth, were to increase, the antagonism between the productive class and the parasitic class would not thereby disappear. As long as social relations remain as they are—relationship of employer to employee, of manager to managed—the problem will persist, and class struggle will be an inevitable phenomenon.

Even supposing that the groans of the crushed and ground down masses on the social battlefield manage to disturb the peace of the complacent and that the latter, out of charitable spirit or cunning, condescend to ensure the material life of the exploited, the fusion of classes would not be the consequence of this interventionism and society would not be pacified thanks to this remedy.

It has often been said: “Man does not live by bread alone!” This is why the social question is not merely a material problem. It is not enough for us to be happy and content with simply having our “bread and butter” secured; we also want to be free from all constraints and all forms of domination; we want to be free, to depend on no one, and to have only equal relationships with our fellow human beings, despite the diversity of abilities, knowledge, and roles.

The goal, therefore, is to modify the structure of society so that there is only one possible category, one class: that of the producers. This essential transformation is only achievable on a communist basis—communism alone can guarantee each human being complete autonomy and the full realization of individual potential.

In the past, before large industry eliminated the craftsman from his small workshop — expropriated him of his means of production — the worker could glimpse the possibility of creating a harsh but independent existence for himself.

Today, in the industry, this dream is only exceptionally achievable.

In the countryside, the peasant can still hope to build a relatively free life on a small plot of land. However, this liberation is becoming increasingly difficult (and often very precarious) due to land grabbing by the wealthy, rising taxes, and the rapacity of middlemen. And what anxieties accompany the peasant’s liberation! He constantly dreads the tax collector and the moneylender, leading a joyless existence, crushed by its monotony, toiling like a plow ox.

This autonomy of the peasant and the artisan, won at the cost of arduous efforts, is an emancipation all the more illusory because both remain dependent on capitalism and their earnings are modest compared to the amount of labor they impose upon themselves. They are hybrids of society, who cannot be precisely classified as either bourgeois or wage-earning; they are a vestige of the artisan class ^and the peasantry; although their classification is imprecise, their interests are identical to those of the working class. Currently, however, they cannot be criticized for preferring their lot to that of the wage-earner; they must simply recognize that their living conditions are a vestige of the past and that it is in their interest to contribute to the social transformation that is underway; indeed, they have much to gain by not resisting the revolution, but, on the contrary, by participating in its triumph and adapting to the new modes of production and distribution.

Thus, it becomes clear how illusory the lure of individual emancipation advocated by the bourgeoisie truly is; of the various modes of personal escape from wage labor that are available. The word is attested in the Trésor de la langue française (Treasury of the French Language). Jaurès also uses it, although he writes it “artisanerie” (craftsmanship), with only one “n”.

As a hypothesis, none of them are likely to be generalized and, consequently, cannot be accepted by all workers as a remedy for their sad fate, since none is capable of ensuring a free and easy life for all.

Therefore, if this illusion of individual emergence from wage labor was advocated by the bourgeoisie, it was because they saw it as a way to prevent the working class from rising to its class consciousness. By awakening appetites and overstimulating selfish desires, they hoped to maintain indefinitely internal discord within the proletariat, so that, with everyone thinking only of elbowing their way to the top, the sole preoccupation would be to climb onto the backs of their comrades, and the spirit of revolt would be restrained and the natural tendencies toward solidarity sterilized.

But human beings could not fatally submit to perpetual slavery: the seeds of discord and hatred which the bourgeoisie, for its security, expected to flourish in the heart of the people are a weed whose proliferation cannot endlessly stifle the development of instincts of sociability, for the agreement for life is, for the perpetuation of human society, far more essential than the fierce “struggle for existence” dear to exploiters.

Therefore, despite the sophisms and lies with which it was saturated, it was inevitable that the proletariat would become aware of its class interests, especially since the faintest glimmer of reasoning, however uncertain, was bound to lead it to realize that social evil is not inevitable.

Why these blatant and revolting inequalities? Why do the destitute lack their daily bread, while others don’t know how to squander their excess? Why do men, for hellish work, receive only an inadequate wage, while parasites overflow with comfort and luxury?

Why is that? Is production, both agricultural and industrial, insufficient to meet everyone’s needs?

No! Every man who engages in useful work produces, during the period of validity of his life, more than is necessary to amply meet his consumption (food, clothing, shelter, etc.); in this period he also produces enough to repay the community the advances it made to raise him to manhood and he also produces enough to ensure for himself what he needs to live on, when, in old age, he will no longer be able to work.

However, if the existence of each individual is not assured, both for the present and for the future, due to this intensity of personal production, it is because this wealth is not used to guarantee the life of its natural beneficiaries, it is because it is diverted from its social purpose by the capitalist class and channeled to its main profit.

That the level of production, both agricultural and industrial, is high enough to meet everyone’s needs is now beyond dispute.

From an industrial standpoint, production capacity is virtually unlimited thanks to the enormous improvement in machinery; so much so that, despite the prudence of industrialists who strive to limit the output of “their” workers to the demands of the commercial market, overproduction often manifests itself in crises of excess. Those hardest hit in these circumstances are the workers: they bear the brunt of these crises because, to restore balance, the exploiters see no other solution than to slow down production, which intensifies unemployment and creates even more misery for the working class.

From an agricultural perspective, the picture is equally bleak: crops are not cultivated to obtain bountiful harvests and thus create abundant food; they are cultivated in the hope of a profitable sale. However, since selling prices fall in years of large harvests, and since labor costs tend to rise at the same time, farmers prefer a mediocre harvest to a bountiful one, as the latter is easier and more profitable to sell.

This, then, is the general situation: an abundance of products of all kinds is more feared than desired, and there is a tendency to make them scarce in order to sell them at higher prices. The needs of the masses are never taken into account in the concerns of the capitalists who oversee production; we witness the monstrous spectacle of entire populations lacking the bare necessities—and all too often literally dying of hunger—even though there is ample food, clothing, and shelter available to them.

Such a blatant injustice condemns, without the need for further justification, the social organization that engenders it. It is absolutely essential to overturn this monstrous system of distribution that allocates almost everything to a ruling, exploitative, and parasitic minority, and little or nothing to the majority, the creators of wealth. Given the current level of industrial and scientific development, this solution would only be feasible through a transformation: the system of exploitation, which pools human resources to produce for the benefit of those who hoard natural resources and the means of production, must be replaced by a system of solidarity that pools natural resources and the means of production to make them work for the benefit of all.

This transformation is an inevitable fate, and the hour of its realization draws ever closer as the working class becomes more aware of its class interests. But this work of social reorganization can only be developed and carried out in an environment free from all bourgeois contamination. This role as the matrix of the new society is therefore legitimately entrusted to the Party of Labour, the only body which, by virtue of its very constitution, eliminates from its ranks all social dross.

Therefore, the condensation of the working class into a bloc distinct from all parties—possessing its own tactics and adequate means of action—is not an ephemeral phenomenon; it is an inherent necessity of the current environment, for it is only in such a party—which implies perfect homogeneity, the absolute identity of interests—that there is a normal grouping for it.

Everywhere else, in any other group, elements of the propertied class can infiltrate, and the ambition of individuals can have a harmful repercussion. This is why no one has, and can have, the unity of views, action, and goal that the class party of the proletariat automatically possesses; this is also why no one is so clearly qualified to pursue and carry out the work of revolution, expropriation, and social reorganization.

Its goal

The Party of Labor is the party of the future. In the harmonious society whose dawn is breaking, there will be room only for Labor; parasites of all kinds will inevitably be eliminated. It is therefore natural that the Party of Labor, which is the crucible where the social combinations of the hoped-for tomorrows are forged, should be formed outside of all existing parties. This is all the more normal as it distinguishes itself from them not only by its form of cohesion, but also by the goal it pursues and the methods of action it advocates and practices.

While all the other parties aim to maintain or move government personnel — whether they expect or need to be favorable to their appetites, ambitions or simply to their coterie — the Labour Party neglects this external and superficial work and pursues the intimate and external transformation of social elements; it works to change mentalities, forms of grouping, and economic relations.

His goal is the complete emancipation of the workers. Adopting the formula of the International Workingmen’s Association, of which he is the logical heir, he posits as inevitable that this emancipation will be the work of the working class itself, without interference from external or heterogeneous elements. It is clear that, to be meaningful, this emancipation must entail the elimination of the bourgeois class and the complete destruction of its privileges.

This means that the Labour Party is pursuing the radical transformation of the social system.

An examination of economic phenomena demonstrates that this transformation will have to be accomplished by the neutralization of individual property and the flourishing of a communist regime, so that the current relations between individuals — which are those of employee to capitalist, of led to leader — may be replaced by relations of equality and freedom.

Indeed, there will only be complete emancipation if the exploiters and rulers disappear and if all capitalist and statist institutions are swept away. Such a task cannot be accomplished peacefully, much less legally! History teaches us that the privileged have never sacrificed their privileges without being compelled and forced to do so by their rebellious victims. It is unlikely that the bourgeoisie will possess exceptional magnanimity and abdicate willingly… It will be necessary to resort to force, which, as Karl Marx said, is “the midwife of societies.”

I. “Some of these methods [of primitive accumulation] rely on the use of brute force, but all without exception exploit the power of the State… in order to violently hasten the transition from the feudal to the capitalist economic order and to shorten the transitional phases. And indeed, Force is the midwife of every old society in labor.  ” ( Capital, chap. XXX, La Pléiade, Works I, Economics I, p. 1213.) Note the presence of the same formula in the text “The Revolutionary General Strike,” the response of the CGT’s General Strike Committee (probably written by Pouget himself), in September 1901, to Jean Jaurès’s recent attack on the guiding principle of syndicalism (both texts are reproduced in Dispossessing the Possessing, op. cit.). Finally, the formula appears in an (anonymous) article in the libertarian publication

Therefore, the Labour Party is a revolutionary party.

However, he does not consider revolution as a future cataclysm, something to be patiently awaited through the fatal play of events. This expectation, in a hieratic pose, of the final catastrophe would be nothing more than the transposition and continuation, on a materialistic plane, of age-old dreams.

Revolution is a constant endeavor, today as tomorrow: it is a continuous action, a daily battle, without truce or respite, against the forces of oppression and exploitation. The one who, rejecting the legitimacy of the current society, works towards its downfall is the one who rebels and acts as a revolutionary.

It is to this ceaseless revolutionary work that the workers are harnessed, within their unions. They consider themselves to be in permanent insurrection against capitalist society and they nurture and develop within themselves the embryo of a society where Work will be everything.

However, despite this consistently subversive attitude, they submit to the demands of the bourgeois regime; but, while yielding to the necessities of the present moment, they do not adapt to the forms of legalism nor do they consecrate it with their acquiescence, even when it dons the trappings of reform. Their revolutionary efforts tend to wrest piecemeal improvements from the bourgeoisie, which they never consider definitive. Thus, whatever improvement they wrest, however significant it may seem, they always proclaim it insufficient and, as soon as they recognize their own strength, they hasten to demand more.

The article in Ça ira (June 24, 1888, no. 3, p. 2), to which Pouget contributed, attributes the phrase to a “German theorist.” It is likely that Pouget took the phrase not from Marx himself, but from the French anarchist Charles Malato, who quotes it in its truncated form on page 139 of his Philosophie de l’anarchie (1688-1897), published by R.V. Stock in 1897.

These constantly renewed struggles, which are a relentless harassment of the exploiters, in addition to undermining and disintegrate capitalist institutions, besides which they toughen and strengthen the working class, have another advantage. It is this attitude of permanent insurrection against definitive adaptation to current conditions that marks the revolutionary character of the Labour Party.

It is a mistake to assume that violence is always the characteristic of a revolutionary act; such an act can also manifest itself under very moderate appearances and have nothing of the destructive brutality that our adversaries give as the essential sign of revolutionaryism.

It must not be forgotten, in fact, that in most circumstances, the act itself has no defined character; this character is only given to it by analyzing the motives that prompted it. This is why the same acts can, depending on the case, be declared good or bad, just or unjust, revolutionary or reformist. For example: killing a man on a street corner is a crime; killing him by guillotine is, from a bourgeois point of view, an act of justice; killing a despot is an act glorified by some, abhorred by others… And yet, in fact, these various acts are identical: the taking of a human life!

Therefore, by deduction, the revolutionary spirit of the working class can manifest itself through very innocuous acts, just as its reformist spirit could be underscored by excessively violent acts. This is indeed what we observe in the United States: strikes there are often marked by acts of violence (execution of renegades, dynamite attacks, etc.), which are not a sign of a revolutionary mindset, because the result sought by these strikers is limited to improvements that do not undermine the principle of exploitation: they find current society tolerable and they do not consider abolishing wage labor.

Therefore, what specifies the revolutionary character of the Labour Party is that, without ever neglecting to fight for the attainment of a detailed improvement, it pursues the transformation of capitalist society into a harmonious society.

The improvements, won day by day, are therefore only steps on the road to human emancipation; the immediate and material benefit they provide is coupled with a considerable moral advantage: they strengthen the ardor of the working class, exalt its desire for well-being and excite it to demand more pronounced changes.

However, the most dangerous illusion would be to limit union action to obtaining these piecemeal improvements; that would be to become mired in a morbid reformism. However important these gains may be, they are insufficient: they are merely partial expropriations of the privileges of the bourgeoisie; consequently, they do not alter the relations between labor and capital. However magnificent these improvements may seem, they leave the worker under the wage system; he remains nonetheless dependent on the master! What the working class needs is complete liberation: the general expropriation of the bourgeoisie.

This decisive act, the culmination of previous struggles, implies the total ruin of privileges, and, if previous conflicts may have had a peaceful appearance, it is impossible to suppose that this supreme shock will occur without revolutionary conflagration.

Historical summary

The Labour Party has as its organic expression the General Confederation of Labour, which was founded in Limoges, during the congress of trade unions held there in 1895. But, if we want to look for its gestation and its lineage, we have to go back further: in direct line, the Labour Party emanates from the International Workingmen’s Association, of which it is the historical extension.

Throughout the 19th ^century , workers fought with tireless tenacity to break the obstacles placed by the bourgeoisie in their path to organizing; instinctively, they formed class groups, admittedly embryonic, under the guise of mutual aid societies or in the form of resistance groups. When, finally, the International Workingmen’s Association was established, the proletariat was shaken by a thrill of hope; its aspirations, hitherto vague, were taking shape, and the future appeared less bleak.

In fact, in its “considerations,” the International formulated the program of the Labour Party; it proclaimed:

“That the emancipation of the workers must be the work of the workers themselves; […]

“That the subjugation of the worker to capital is the source of all servitude: political, moral and material […]”

“That, for this reason, economic emancipation is the great goal to which every political movement must be subordinated .”

“That all efforts made so far have failed, due to a lack of solidarity among workers of various professions in each country, and a lack of fraternal union among workers of different regions…”

The correlation between theory and tactics is formal; the only difference lies in the mode of organization, which is now the interest group— the trade union—whereas in the International, general agreement was established through the affinity group—the section—where heterogeneous elements converged. However, it must be noted that this difference in the mode of organization was rather a consequence of the conditions under which the social struggle unfolded during the Second Empire; it would therefore be wrong to see it as a departure from the principle of class struggle, especially since the “considerations” above note the importance that the International attached to professional organization.

But soon, two camps would form within the international: on one side, the centralists, the authoritarians, with Karl Marx, who, according to the formula given by his disciple, Eccarius*, advocated “the conquest of political power to make laws for the benefit of the workers”; and, on the other, the federalists, the autonomists who, faithful to the spirit of the international, fought this tendency “in the name of this social revolution which we are pursuing and whose program is: emancipation of the workers by the workers themselves, outside of any directing authority, even if this authority is elected and consented to by the workers ” ^I.

And the autonomists added: “The future society must be nothing other than the universalization that the International will have given itself. We must therefore take care to bring this organization as close as possible to our ideal. How could an egalitarian and free society emerge from an authoritarian organization? It is impossible. The International, the embryo of the future human society, is bound to be, from this moment on, the faithful image of our principles of liberty and federation and to reject from its ranks any principle tending towards authority and dictatorship.”

The Labour Party has adopted these principles of autonomy and federalism.

Union revival

After the events of 1870-1871, after the appalling carnage that followed the crushing of the Commune, the bourgeoisie, drunk on bloodshed, believed it had forever stifled any desire for protest among the working class. It forgot that the spirit of revolt is a consequence of a bad social environment and not the result of subversive preaching and that, inevitably, it would be reborn as long as the environment was favorable to its development.

I. This quote, as well as the following one, is taken from the circular addressed by the congress of the Jura Federation which was held in Sonviller (Switzerland), on November 12, 1871. Among the signatories was Jules Guesde who, since… [nda]

The trade unions had grown in the final years of Napoleon III’s reign to the point of daring to form a federation, and although this rudimentary organization only united Parisian unions, its propaganda and solidarity efforts extended throughout the provinces. These federated unions were also affiliated with the International Workingmen’s Association; they participated in the insurrectionary events, and once the turmoil had passed, those that had not completely succumbed were forced to remain silent.

In 1872, Barberet * , a precursor of the Jaunisse movement, believed the time was ripe, with the revolutionaries crushed or dispersed, to unite the few remaining unions and guide them toward a more moderate approach. Twenty-five unions responded to his call, but the prevailing moral order was so terrified of workers’ organizations that it banned the Cercle de l’Union Syndicale (Trade Union Circle). The reason no direct measures were taken against the unions was that their isolation and weakness reassured the government; they continued to exist on the fringes of the Labor Code, merely tolerated.

From then until 1876, trade union activity manifested itself through delegations to the exhibitions of Vienna (1873), Philadelphia (1876), delegations which created between the groups a momentary link which, however reactive it was, the government could hardly take offense at.

With renewed boldness, the idea arose to organize a workers’ congress; it was held in Paris in 1876, and delegates from seventy Parisian unions and those from thirty-seven other cities (mandated by onee or more trade associations) participated. These figures indicate the renewed vigor of th union movement; already a year earlier, in 1875, statistics, rather understated, put the number of existing unions at one hundred and thirty-five, both in Paris and in the provinces, clear proof that workers did not wait for the 1884 law to grant them permission to create unions. This law merely registered a fait accompli: the bourgeoisie, unable to stop the rise of the unions, made the best of a bad situation by recognizing their legal existence.

I. As a reward for his attempts at worker domestication, this Barberet was appointed (around 1880) grand mutualist manou at the Ministry of the Interior, [nda] Jaundice is of course the affliction which strikes the “yellows”, the “unconscious” workers.

At this first congress in 1876, Barberet pontificated; however, protests arose against his presence and, from then on, it became clear that the true workers’ organizations, concerned about their dignity and autonomy, would never condescend to let themselves be domesticated.

At that time, the distinction between political organizations and professional groups was blurred: social study groups and trade unions campaigned together, participated in workers’ congresses, and did so all the more harmoniously as political concerns were relegated to the background. The movement was distinctly anti-parliamentary: all revolutionaries united to halt the Barberettian quagmire.

With this danger averted—and it was definitively averted at the congresses of Marseille (1879) and Le Havre (1880)—several trends emerged. First, a split occurred between the anti-statists, the staunch proponents of anti-parliamentarianism (the anarchists), and those who, under the banner of Karl Marx, circulated the “Minimum Programme,” claiming the title of collectivists and entering the parliamentary arena, mesmerized by the hope of seizing power. This initial division was rational, as it stemmed from differing orientations. It became clear that parallel progress was no longer possible between those who subordinated everything to the conquest of public power and those who maintained their hopes in revolutionary action.

But while this separation was explained by a divergence of principles, the same cannot be said of the subsequent splits; they were merely the consequence of regrettable, but inevitable, electoral competition. The desire to quickly capture a majority of votes led to softening of the program; the intransigents, faithful to the “Minimum Program,” were called Guesdists, after their leader Jules Guesde, and they, in turn, labeled as Possibilists those who more specifically aligned themselves with Paul Brousse and Joffrin*.

It was at the congress of Saint-Étienne, in 1882, that the separation took place; the Guesdists found themselves in the minority there and, after tumultuous sessions, they withdrew to hold a congress in Roanne.

A few years later, in 1890, a new split further fragmented the working-class elements; it occurred among the Possibilists at the Châtellerault congress: the moderates became the followers of Brousse (the Broussists), while the revolutionary elements, who sympathized with Allemane*, were called Allemanists.

These internal discords had an even more harmful effect because the trade union groups were an integral part of the various factions ⁱⁿ conflict and, quite naturally, claimed allegiance to one school or another, according to the preferences of the activists at their head. This state of affairs resulted in an understandable weakness of the [unclear – possibly “the word is much more frequent in the political language of the time than, for example, René Mouriaux states in 1906. The Congress of the Charter of Amiens ” (Éditions de l’institut CGT d’histoire sociale, 1983, p. 86). And this well before its use in a well-known formula of the “Charter” of Amiens, which we will be permitted to recall: “With regard to organizations, the congress declares that in order for trade unionism to achieve its maximum effect, economic action must be exercised directly against employers, the confederated organizations not having. as trade union groups, to be concerned about the parties and sects which, outside and alongside, can pursue social transformation in complete freedom.” The anarchists, in particular, regularly used the word “sect” to refer to the political faction led by Jules Guesde.

Trade unions: workers, whether more or less politically aware, kept too much to themselves—and so did those who belonged to a different sect than the one dominant in their trade union. Trade union organizations, weakened by political maneuvering, were thus reduced to having little more influence than the social study groups with which they came into contact during workers’ congresses.

Towards autonomy

False situations only last for a time. The unions grew stronger. They are too necessary a mode of organization, since they are the essential grouping, for political competitions, in which they served as a closed arena, to be radically detrimental to them.

The trade unions grew and, as they developed, becoming aware of their purpose and mission, they considered freeing themselves from political control. The first manifestation of this shift was the organization of a congress, held in Lyon in 1886, which was open only to union delegates; the main question raised was the creation of a federation linking the unions.

The government believed that this distancing of the unions from irritating and discordant political concerns would serve its plans of worker domestication and, in the hope of a revival of Barberettism, it favored this congress with its subsidies.

Cruel was his disappointment! The examination of the 1884 law on trade unions was the touchstone of the congress’s opinion. This law, whose implementation was very recent, was seriously analyzed. It was established that the unions had by no means waited for its promulgation to develop, that it had not accelerated their growth, and that it was justified solely by a desire to preserve capitalism and the ulterior motive of using it to channel the corporatist movement.

Next, it was decided to establish a National Federation of Trade Unions to set up, on the field of class struggle, the corporate groups opposite the powerful bourgeois organization, both defensively and ^offensively .

But the ravages of politics, however considerable, were not yet so evident in everyone’s minds as to warrant considering making their return impossible. No preventative measures were taken, and so the trade union party, which was tending to form outside the socialist schools of thought, continued to be pulled in different directions by them, and the unions remained subservient to them. However, despite the fact that the atmosphere of the Federation of Trade Unions was still thick with political miasma, ideas specific to trade unionism were germinating and taking shape there. Thus, at its third congress held in Bordeaux in 1888, the principle of the general strike was voted on; another motion, also adopted, committed “workers to separate themselves from politicians… and to solidly organize the trade union chambers which […] will alone constitute the great army of social demands.” It was in this same way that the following congress (Calais, 1890) urged workers, in the aftermath of May 1, 1891 , to “go to the factory as usual and leave after eight hours of presence, whether the boss wants it or not.”

I. The FNS (National Federation of Trade Unions and Corporate Groups) was founded in Lyon during the congress held between October 11 and 16, 1886. It brought together moderate elements and revolutionary socialists, Possibilists and Guesdists, the latter effectively directing the new organization’s destiny in the following years. Significantly, the FNS congresses were held in cities where the Guesdist faction had powerful groups: Calais, Montluçon, Bordeaux, etc. Although they considered the trade union as “the primary school of socialism,” the Guesdists nevertheless saw it as a rich recruitment pool for the workers’ party.

These trends in economic action were going to develop, despite the opposition made by the socialist school (the Guesdists), then in the majority to the Federation of Trade Unions: this was clearly seen at the congress of Marseille in 1892; despite the pressure from the Guesdists, the effectiveness of the general strike was again affirmed, at the same time as the futility of intervention by the public authorities was proclaimed.

A flaw, stemming from the Federation of Trade Unions’ emphasis on political considerations, made it impossible for this organization to adapt to the increasingly evident needs of the trade union movement: it grouped unions only by unit, leaving them isolated within this amalgamation (which was federative in name only), and it failed to establish the essential relationships between the union units, both locally and professionally. However, since “the function creates the organ,” it was inevitable that a grouping suited to the needs of the unions would emerge.

Labor exchanges had already been established ^, coordinating union forces within the local area; and trade federations had also already been created, linking the same unions of the same profession from one end of France to the other. But these organizations existed, if not in isolation, at least without regular contact.

In 1892, the creation of the Federation of Labor Exchanges fulfilled half of the union’s demands; although it only grouped together the Labor Exchanges or local unions of various professions, it quickly acquired considerable influence. This was because it was able to respond to the aspirations for economic unity, regardless of political opinions. These tendencies toward cohesion […] came to some members of the Paris Stock Exchange, who, belonging to socialist groups rival to the French Workers’ Party and dissatisfied that the Federation of Trade Unions was in the hands of this party, wished for the creation of a competing association… » (Ibid., p. I 13-1 14.)

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I. On this subject, one will read with great profit the History of the Labor Exchanges ([1902] Phénix Éditions, 2001) by Fernand Pelloutier, secretary of the Federation of Labor Exchanges from 1895 to 1901, the year of his death.

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II. Nevertheless, Pelloutier himself noted the influence of the socialist factions (Allemanists, Blanquists, Broussists) opposed to the Guesdists in the founding of the FBT: “The idea of ​​federating these Economic Labor Exchanges became clearer at the congress of trade unions organized by the Federation of Exchanges and held in Paris in July 1893. The following resolution, which was adopted there, definitively and clearly established the fundamental status of the class organization that the General Confederation of Labor was to become:

“All labor unions must, as soon as possible:

i°) Join their trade federation or create one if none exists; train in a local federation or labor exchange, then these federations and labor exchanges must form a national federation;

2) Once formed, the national trade federations must reach agreements with the federations of other countries and establish international federations.

In a spirit of conciliation, this congress expressed the wish that the Federation of Labor Exchanges and the Federation of Trade Unions merge into a single organization. This merger was to be attempted at the Nantes congress in 1894; however, instead of the desired rapprochement, there was a definitive split. It could not have been otherwise; the prevailing tendencies necessitated this separation. The question of the general strike was the touchstone: a broad debate demonstrated the theoretical and tactical disagreement between political-parliamentary action and economic action; the vote that sanctioned it gave the victory to those who would become the syndicalists  : sixty-seven votes were cast for the general strike and thirty-seven against.

This was the crumbling of the Federation of Trade Unions and the congress understood this so well that it decided to establish a National Workers’ Council, which languished for a year, until the Limoges congress in 1895.

Economic growth

The rupture at the Nantes congress has a far greater significance than a mere break with political elements; it entails a definitive break with the capitalist system. The working class will forge autonomous organizations which will serve, in the present, as instruments of struggle and which, in the future, will possess sufficient revolutionary force to confront the political and administrative institutions of the bourgeoisie and destroy or absorb them, as the need arises.

At the Limoges congress, the creation of the General Confederation of Labour (CGT) was not without resistance. Article 1 of the confederation’s statutes established the principle that would revitalize the trade unions: the members constituting the Confederation must remain independent of all political schools of thought. It sparked passionate debate. Nevertheless, it was adopted by an overwhelming majority: on

Of the 150 votes cast, 124 were in favour and only 14 against.

Those who favored the primacy of political action proposed that only the Confederation should remain apolitical; the unions, for their part, would have had the option of engaging in politics or not. This argument was rejected. However, in practice, all too often, this was the approach that prevailed. The congress had established a guiding principle, but no one could—nor did anyone consider—enforcing its observance. These matters depend on the level of awareness among the workers.

The important thing was to assert the necessity of the grouping in the economic sphere, eliminating all political considerations. As for the germination and development of this principle, it was simply a matter of time and the initiative of the activists.

For the next five years, the CGT remained in its embryonic stage. Its activity was almost nonexistent, and most of its energy was spent highlighting a regrettable antagonism that had arisen between it and the Federation of Labor Exchanges. This latter organization, which was then autonomous, concentrated all the revolutionary activity of the trade unions, while the CGT, which at that time only encompassed the professional federations, languished.

During this period, the impetus and direction were given to the Confederation by the elements which, since then, have particularly classified themselves under the reformist label ^I. As the politicians could not monopolize this body, they disdained it; some of their disciples were nevertheless in the majority, but, hampered by the decision of the congress of Limoges, they could not do pure politics and, on the other hand, lacking faith in the value of economic action, they did nothing to develop the Confederation.

It was only after the corporate congress held in Paris in 1900, when the confederal organ ( La Voix du Peuple) was created , when revolutionary elements flocked to and predominated in the Confederation, that, under this double influence, this body emerged from its larval state.

From then on, its growth steadily increased. In 1900, at the opening of the Paris congress, it only grouped sixteen national federations and five miscellaneous organizations; however, in September 1904, at the opening of the Bourges congress, it grouped fifty-three corporate federations or national unions ^II and about fifteen isolated unions.

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I. The leaders of this “first” CGT, which barely survived from 1895 to 1901-1902, were mainly the Book Federation, led by Auguste Keufec and the Railway Union (known as the Guérard Union, named after its leader Eugène Guérard, a former Allemanist who, over time, became a true union leader).

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II. Union federations are formed by unions of the same industry or similar professions. In his pamphlet * The General Confederation of Labor* ([Marcel Rivière, 1908] CNT-RP Editions 1997), Pouget carefully distinguishes between federations with an essentially federalist basis, where the rule is the autonomy of the unions, and centralist federations, administered by a central committee appointed for several years, like the Book Federation, the very model of this type of organization. The other form of grouping is the national union, whose basic sections… Furthermore, under the impetus of revolutionary elements, a kind of moral unity was created between the Federation of Labor Exchanges and the CGT , invaluable for the struggle and a precursor to what has since been called “workers’ unity.” This unity, the Montpellier congress in 1902, proclaimed necessary and achieved by merging, into a single body, the Federation of Labor Exchanges and the Federation of National Corporate Federations, which had until then been the Confederation.

Thus, nine years later, the motion adopted in 1893 by the congress of trade unions held in Paris was organically realized.

Since the Montpellier congress, the General Confederation of Labour, whose organic structure seems to be fixed – except for slight modifications of detail which may be necessary – has had a normal growth: it is now a force with which bourgeois society must reckon; it stands up, facing capital and facing the State, with the will not only to lessen their harm, but to prepare and bring about their definitive ruin.

In the preceding brief historical overview, we have seen the corporatist groups working to constitute themselves as an organization free from all forms of control and capable of the revolutionary tasks they pursue. Better than doctrinal pronouncements, this panoramic examination reveals the power of the Party of Labor and shows that the economic orientation of the unions is not a momentary phenomenon, but rather the logical consequence of the development of workers’ consciousness.

The program of the new party is concise; Article 1 of the statutes of the Confederation summarizes it:

have only very relative autonomy: “This form of union aggregation,” he writes, “can be considered specific to workers employed by the State or large companies.” (Ibid, p. 152.) The most representative of these national unions was then the Railway Workers’ Union.

“The CGT group, independent of any political school, includes all workers aware of the struggle to be waged for the disappearance of wage labor and employers. ^I.  “

This brief statement of principle contains the very essence of syndicalist doctrine; it is its precise definition. As for the other articles of the CGT statutes, they are an expression of the moment and, consequently, subject to change like any living organism. They should not be considered an unshakeable framework, but rather the form of cohesion of the working masses best suited to the necessities of the present struggle. It is not its statutory framework that establishes the Party of Labor as a power; its strength derives from the individuals who are its constituent units and from the intensity of the spirit of revolt that animates them.

What distinguishes trade unionism from the various socialist schools—and what constitutes its superiority—is its doctrinal sobriety. In trade unions, there is little philosophizing. Better still: action is taken! There, on the neutral ground of the economic sphere, the elements that flow in, imbued with the teachings of this or that school (philosophical, political, religious, etc.), lose their particular roughness through friction, so as not to retain only the principles common to all: the will for improvement and complete emancipation. And that is why — without establishing any doctrinal barriers, without formulating any creed — trade unionism appears as the practical quintessence of the various social doctrines.

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I. We see that the political “neutrality” claimed by trade unionism “in the French style” was a statutory obligation of the CGT at the time. This declaration was ratified in 1906 at the end of the Amiens congress by the resolution presented by Griffuelhes on behalf of the confederal committee, declaring that “the Congress affirms the complete freedom for the trade unionist to participate outside the trade union in such forms of struggle corresponding to his philosophical or political conception, merely asking him in reciprocity not to introduce into the trade union the opinions he professes outside of it.”

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II. Here again, we must read the illuminating pages that Maxime Leroy dedicated to this question in * La Coutume ouvrière* (op. cit., Book I, Chapter 7, “Trade Union Obligation to Political Neutrality,” pp. 319–361). This fellow traveler of pre-1914 revolutionary syndicalism wrote there, in particular, that “the rule of political neutrality appears […] as a rule of struggle, the constitutive rule of the autonomy of the working class in the process of revolution. Indifferent to, and hostile to, bourgeois politics, workers seek, define, and practice a “style of governing” specific to their interests: this is “direct action.” With regard to the State, the political indifference of workers is negative; with regard to themselves, it is active and positive” (ibid., pp. 321–322).

For it is not only in theory that the Labour Party stands apart; its tactics and methods of action are unique to it and, far from being inspired by the democratic ideal, are its antithesis. But these tactics and methods of action are so ingrained that workers, even those most steeped in democratic ideals, as soon as they join the trade union organizations, are influenced by the environment and act like all their comrades, as trade unionists.

The methods of union action are not an expression of the consent of majorities manifested through the empirical process of universal suffrage; they are inspired by the means by which, in nature, life manifests and develops in its many forms and aspects. Just as life first appeared as a point, a cell; just as, over time, it is always a cell that is the element of fermentation, of transformation; so too, in the union movement, the impetus is given by conscious minorities who, by their example, by their dynamism (and not by authoritarian injunctions), draw the more apathetic masses into action and inspire them to action.

This tactical approach is direct action in action! All forms of union action stem from it. Strikes, boycotts, sabotage, etc., are simply modalities of direct action.

Appendix

The confederal body. — The network of the confederal organization which links the unions together is as simple as possible, given the propaganda and struggle necessities which it is essential to face.

The CGT is made up of two sections: that of the corporatist federations and that of the Bourses du travail ^I.

By joining the Bourse du Travail (or local union of trades), unions from various sectors facilitate their propaganda efforts within a given city or region; a task that would be difficult, if not impossible, to accomplish if they remained mired in debilitating isolation. This work, primarily educational, consists of establishing new unions and developing the awareness of union members, so as to bring the largest possible number of workers into the union fold. To this end, the Bourse creates libraries, opens courses, assists in anti-militarist propaganda by housing young soldiers stationed within its jurisdiction, provides legal information, and so on.

Affiliation with the national trade federation is primarily a response to the needs of militancy and resistance. These federations bring together unions from the same profession or industry and have a nationwide reach, making them powerful groups for struggle; should a conflict arise on any point, the collective solidarity of the workforce acts as a counterweight to defeat employers. In this way, the individual strength of a union is multiplied by the moral and material support of the federated unions throughout France.

I. At the Paris congress (December 1918), the revision of the statutes eliminated the Federation of Labor Exchanges, which was replaced by the section of departmental unions, as evidenced by article 2 of the CGT statutes:

Article 2. – The General Confederation of Labour is constituted by:”

1) national industry federations;
2) the departmental unions of various trade unions.

And thus modified the constitution of the confederation committee:

“Article 9. – The national committee is formed by the meeting of delegates from the federations and departmental unions. It meets three times a year, in March, July, and November, and extraordinarily upon convocation by the Executive Committee and the Bureau. It is responsible for implementing the decisions of the national congresses. It intervenes in all events concerning workers’ life and issues opinions on matters of general order.” [editor’s note, 1922 edition]

However, if the labor exchanges remained isolated from one another, and if the trade federations did the same, worker cohesion, stuck at an intermediate stage, could never acquire collective strength, since local organizations would be limited by the scope of their region, and national organizations by the boundaries of their trade. To rise to greater power, these diverse organizations federate with one another and according to their nature: trade federations with trade federations, and labor exchanges with each other.

It is at this level of the trade union organization that the General Confederation of Labour (CGT) emerged: it was made up of two sections, that of the professional federations and that of the Labour Exchanges. Each of these federal branches had, at its head, a committee made up of delegates from each member organization; these delegates were always subject to recall; consequently, they remained in constant contact with the group that mandated them, which could replace them at any time.

The federations section and the federal section of the Bourses du Travail are both autonomous bodies.

Finally, the last level is the national confederation committee; it is formed by the meeting of delegates from the two sections and is responsible for all general propaganda concerning the entire working class. Thus, to cite examples of the tasks incumbent upon it, it suffices to note that, when it came to conducting the agitation campaign against the employment offices and also the campaign for the eight-hour day, special commissions, appointed by it, were charged with taking the necessary steps.

Such, in its broad outlines, is the confederate body: it is not a governing body, but rather one for coordinating and amplifying the revolutionary action of the working class; it is therefore the very opposite of democratic bodies which, through their centralization and authoritarianism, stifle the vitality of their constituent units. In the CGT, there is cohesion, not centralization; there is impetus, not direction; federalism is everywhere; at every level, the various bodies—from the individual, the union, the federation, or the labor exchange, to the confederate sections—are all autonomous. This is what gives the CGT its radiant power: the impetus does not come from above, it originates from any point, and its vibrations are transmitted, amplified, throughout the confederate mass.

Congresses. — The CGT organizes a national congress every two years, attended only by delegates from affiliated unions. The congress is the equivalent of a general assembly for a union: these meetings allow union members to come into contact and a useful ferment occurs; currents of opinion emerge, and the direction becomes clearer.

International Solidarity. – The Labour Party’s activities are not limited to artificial borders: most of the trade union federations are affiliated with an international federation that links the various national organizations and extends its reach everywhere. Furthermore, the Confederation is affiliated with the International Federation of Trade Unions, headquartered in Amsterdam, which connects the confederations of all countries. In this way, a vibrant network is formed and developed, embodying the International Workingmen’s Association more strongly than ever.

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IV. Direct Action

What is meant by “direct action”

Direct action is the symbol of active unionism. This formula is representative of the battle waged against exploitation and oppression. It proclaims, with an inherent clarity, the meaning and direction of the working class’s effort in its relentless assault on capitalism.

Direct action is a concept of such clarity, such self-evident simplicity, that it defines and explains itself through its own formulation. It means that the working class, in constant reaction against the current environment, expects nothing from men, powers, or forces external to itself, but rather creates its own conditions of struggle and draws its means of action from within. It means that, against the current society, which recognizes only the citizen, there now rises the producer. Having recognized that a social aggregate is shaped by its system of production, the producer intends to directly attack the capitalist mode of production in order to transform it, eliminate the boss, and thus conquer sovereignty in the workshop—an essential condition for enjoying true freedom.

Denial of democracy

Direct action therefore implies that the working class must claim the notions of freedom and autonomy instead of submitting to the principle of authority. Yet it is thanks to the principle of authority, the linchpin of the modern world—of which democracy is the ultimate expression—that human beings, chained by a thousand ties, both moral and material, are deprived of any possibility of will and initiative.

From this denial of democracy, deceitful and hypocritical, and the ultimate form of the crystallization of authority, stems the entire syndicalist method. Direct action thus appears as nothing other than the materialization of the principle of liberty, its realization in the masses: no longer in abstract, vague, and nebulous formulas, but in clear and practical notions, generating the combativeness demanded by the necessities of the moment; it is the ruin of the spirit of submission and resignation, which weakens individuals, turning them into willing slaves, and it is the flowering of the spirit of revolt, the fertile element of human societies.

This fundamental and complete break between capitalist society and the working class, epitomized by direct action, was expressed by the International Workingmen’s Association in its motto: “The emancipation of the workers will be the work of the workers themselves.” The Association contributed to making this break a reality by attaching paramount importance to economic organizations. However, the preponderance it attributed to them was still somewhat unclear. Nevertheless, the Association foresaw that the work of social transformation must begin at the grassroots level and that political changes are merely a consequence of changes made to the system of production. This is why it extolled the action of corporate organizations and, naturally, legitimized the method by which their vitality and influence manifested—a method suited to their structure—which is none other than direct action.

Direct action is, in fact, a normal function of trade unions, an essential characteristic of their constitution; it would be glaringly absurd for such groups to merely gather workers together to better adapt them to the fate to which bourgeois society has condemned them, to produce for others. It is quite clear that, within the trade union, individuals without clearly defined social ideas come together for their self-defense, to fight personally and directly. The convergence of their interests draws them there; they come instinctively. There, in this crucible of life, a process of fermentation, development, and education takes place: the trade union raises awareness among workers still blinded by the prejudices instilled in them by the ruling class; it reveals to them the imperative necessity of struggle, of revolt; it prepares them for social battles through the cohesion of common efforts. From such teaching, it emerges that each person must act, never relying on others to do their own work. And it is in this exercise of instilling in the individual a sense of their own worth, and of exalting that worth, that the generative power of direct action resides. It strengthens human resilience, it tempers character, it refines energies. It teaches one to have confidence in oneself! To rely only on oneself! To be master of oneself! To act independently!

However, if we compare it to the methods used in democratic groups and organizations, we find that they have nothing in common with this constant trend toward greater awareness, nor with the adaptation to action that characterizes economic groups. And there is no reason to assume that the methods employed in the latter can be transferred to the former. Outside the economic sphere, direct action is a meaningless concept, because it contradicts the functioning of democratic groups whose inherent mechanism is the representative system, which fundamentally implies the inaction of individuals. It is a matter of trusting the representatives! Of relying on them! Of counting on them! Of letting them act!

The autonomous and personal nature of the working class’s action, epitomized by direct action, is clarified and accentuated by its manifestation in the economic sphere, where all ambiguity crumbles, misunderstandings are impossible, and every effort is worthwhile. On this level, the artificial combinations of democracy, which amalgamate individuals with antagonistic social interests, are dismantled. Here, the enemy is visible. The exploiter, the oppressor, cannot hope to hide behind deceptive masks or create illusions by donning ideological trappings: they are class enemies, and as such they appear frankly, brutally! Here, the struggle is waged face to face, and every blow lands. Every effort leads to a tangible, perceptible result: it translates immediately into a reduction of employer authority, a loosening of the shackles that bind the worker in the factory, and a relative improvement in their well-being. And that is why, logically, the imperative need for unity between class brothers arises, to go side by side into battle, standing together against the common enemy.

It is therefore natural that, as soon as a corporate group is formed, one can infer from its birth that, consciously or unconsciously, the workers who gather in it are preparing to do their own business; that they have the will to rise up against their masters and expect results only from their own strength; that they intend to act directly, without intermediaries, without relying on others to carry out the necessary tasks.

Direct action, therefore, is purely trade union action, free from any alloy, free from all impurities, without any of the buffers that cushion the shocks between the belligerents, without any of the deviations that alter the meaning and scope of the struggle: it is trade union action, without capitalist compromises, without the collusion ^[9] with bosses that the eulogists of “social peace” dream of; it is trade union action without government ties, without intrusion into the debate by “intermediaries”.

Exaltation of the individual

Direct action is the liberation of the masses, hitherto molded to accept imposed beliefs; it is their ascent toward self-examination, toward consciousness. It is a call to all to participate in the common endeavor: each person is invited to no longer be a mere mortal, to no longer wait for salvation from above or from the outside; each is urged to get involved, to no longer passively endure social determinism. Direct action closes the cycle of miracles—miracles from heaven, miracles of the State—and, in opposition to hopes in “providence,” of whatever kind, it proclaims the practical application of the maxim: salvation lies within us!

This incomparable radiant power of direct action has been recognized by men of diverse opinions and temperaments, thus paying homage to this method whose fruitful social value is undeniable.

It was Keufer who, in June 1902, regarding the union situation of glassworkers, who were then in a precarious position due to the disintegration of their organizations, wrote:

“We would not be surprised if politics played a role in these divisions, because too often, in social struggles, many comrades believe in the effectiveness of political intervention in defending their economic interests.

“On the contrary, we believe that workers, socially organized in trade unions and federations of trades or industries, will acquire greater strength and sufficient authority to deal with industrialists in the event of conflicts, directly and without any assistance other than that of the working class, which will not fail them. The proletariat must take matters into its own hands…”

It was Marcel Sembat* who, in Parliament, expressed himself as follows:

“Direct action? It is simply grouping workers into trade unions and workers’ federations so that, instead of waiting for everything from the State, from the Chamber, instead of perpetually holding out their cap to Parliament so that it disdainfully throws a penny at them from time to time, the workers will group together and consult with each other.

“Workers’ agreements among themselves, direct action on employers, pressure on the legislature to force it, when its intervention is necessary, to take care of the workers…”

 “We know,” say the union members, “that customs precede the law, and we want to create customs in advance so that the law will be applied more easily if it is given to us or so that we will be forced to vote for it if we are made to wait too long!” For they also want — they do not hide it — to force the hand of the legislator on occasion.

 “We, as legislators, never need to be forced? Do we always address evils and abuses? Is it not useful for those who suffer from these evils, who are harmed by these abuses, to protest and agitate in order to draw attention to them and even impose the remedy or reform that has become necessary?”

“That is why, gentlemen, it would be wrong to try to turn you against these men who preach direct action; if they try to do without the deputies as much as possible, do not hold it against them…”

 “There are enough people who can’t do without you enough that you should be satisfied to see workers trying to organize their class through unions, economic organizations, and do as much of their work themselves as possible…”

It is Vandervelde* ^[10] writing in Le Peuple de Bruxelles: “To pull from capitalism a bone in which there is some marrow, it is not enough for the working class to give a mandate to its representatives to fight in its place.

 “We have told him this many times, but we cannot stress it enough, and there is a large part of the truth in the theory of direct action: serious reforms cannot be achieved through intermediaries…”

 “Now, if it is permissible to reproach this Belgian working class, which, left in ignorance and misery by its exploiters and masters, has given so much proof of valor and spirit of sacrifice for the past twenty years, it is perhaps for having relied too heavily on political and cooperative action, which required the least effort; for not having done enough for trade union action; for having yielded a little too much to the dangerous illusion that the day it had representatives in the Chamber, reforms would fall into its lap like roasted larks… ^[11]  ”

Thus, in the opinion of the men cited above, and also in our own opinion, direct action develops a sense of human personality, as well as a spirit of initiative. In contrast to democratic cowardice, which is content with sheep and followers, it shakes individuals out of their torpor and raises them to consciousness. It does not regiment or register workers. On the contrary! It awakens in them a sense of their own worth and strength, and the groups they form, inspired by it, are living and vibrant agglomerations where, under the weight of its mere gravity, its unconscious immobility, numbers do not dictate value. Men of initiative are not stifled there, and minorities, who are – and always have been – the element of progress, can flourish there without hindrance, and, through their propaganda efforts, accomplish the work of coordination that precedes action.

Direct action, therefore, has unparalleled educational value: it teaches us to think, to decide, to act. It is characterized by the cultivation of autonomy, the exaltation of individuality, and the impetus for initiative of which it is the catalyst. And this abundance of vitality, this expansion of the “self,” is in no way contradictory to the economic solidarity that binds workers together, for far from being opposed to their common interests, it reconciles and strengthens them: the independence and activity of the individual can only flourish in splendor and intensity by plunging their roots into the fertile soil of solidarity and understanding.

Direct action thus liberates human beings from the shackles of passivity and apathy in which democracy tends to confine and immobilize them. It teaches them to will, instead of merely obeying, to exercise their sovereignty, instead of delegating their share of it. Consequently, it shifts the axis of social orientation, so that human energies, instead of being exhausted in a pernicious and depressing inactivity, find in legitimate expansion the nourishment necessary for their continuous development.

Expropriatory education

Some fifty years ago, in the 1848 period, when republicans still held convictions, they admitted how illusory, deceitful, and impotent the representative system was, and they sought a way to remedy its flaws. Rittinghausen*, too hypnotized by the political superfluities he supposed were indispensable to human progress, believed he had found the solution in “direct representation.” ¹ Proudhon, on the contrary, anticipating syndicalism, evoked the emerging economic federalism that, by its very superiority, surpasses the sterile concepts of all political maneuvering: economic federalism, which is gestating within workers’ organizations, implies the absorption by corporatist elements of the few useful functions through which the State deludes itself about its raison d’être and, at the same time, the elimination of its harmful, compressive, and repressive functions, through which capitalist society perpetuates itself.

But for this social flowering to be possible, preparatory work must have been carried out within existing society, coordinating the elements that will function to bring it about. This is what the working class is engaged in. Just as a building is constructed from the ground up, so too is this internal task, which is simultaneously a work of disintegration, accomplished from the ground up.

I. In the fourth study (“On the Principle of Authority”) of his General Idea of ​​Revolution in the 19th ^Century ( 1851), Proudhon attacked “Messrs. Rittinghausen and Considérant, and […] Ledru-Rollin,” defenders of the notions of “direct legislation” and “direct government,” which he saw, for his part, only as “restorations of authority, undertaken in competition with anarchy” (p. 124). It is from this that Pouget must have derived his reference to an author who was no longer widely read at the beginning of the 20th century but whose work the Allemanists still claimed as their own a few years earlier, like Maurice Chamay, author of Direct Legislation and Parliamentarism (Socialist Library, 1895), a work which Pouget reviewed in issue no. 8 of La Sociale (June 30 –July 6, 1895).

This work of expropriation has begun: step by step, it continues through daily struggles against the current master of production, the capitalist; his privileges are undermined and diminished, the legitimacy of his direct and dominant role is denied, the tithe he levies on everyone’s production, under the pretext of remunerating capital, is considered theft. Thus, little by little, he is pushed out of the workshop, until he is finally and radically expelled.

All of this—this inner work that grows and intensifies every day—is direct action in its full bloom. And when the working class, having grown in strength and awareness, is ready for the work of taking possession and carries it out, that too will be direct action! It is no longer a question of seizing the State, nor of modifying its mechanisms or changing its personnel; it is a question of transforming the mechanism of production by eliminating the boss of the workshop, of the factory, and by substituting for production for his own profit production in common and for the benefit of all… which has as its logical consequence the ruin of the State.

When capitalist expropriation is underway, when the shareholders of the railway companies see their shares — the “parchments” of the financial aristocracy — fall to zero; when the parasitic legacy of directors and other railway magnates is no longer kept idle, the trains will continue to run… And this, because the railway workers will have intervened directly: their union, from a combat group, having transformed into a production group, will henceforth be in charge of the operation, no longer for personal profits, not even simply and narrowly corporatist, but for the common good.

What has been done in the railways will likewise be done in all branches of production.

But to carry out this work of liquidating the old world of exploitation, the working class must have become familiar with the conditions for the realization of the new environment, must have acquired the capacity and the will to realize it itself; it must rely, in order to face the difficulties that will arise, only on its direct effort, on the skills it will draw from itself, and not on the grace of “interposed persons”, of providential men, of new-style bishops, in which case exploitation would not be eradicated and would continue in a different mode.

Revolution is the work of daily action

It is therefore necessary, in order to pave the way, to counter the depressing conceptions and dead formulas, representative of a persistent past, with notions that guide us toward the essential materializations of will. These new notions can only arise from the systematic implementation of methods of direct action. Indeed, it is from the profound current of autonomy and human solidarity, intensified by the practice of action, that the idea of ​​replacing the current social disorder with an organization where there is room only for work and where each person will have the free development of their personality and faculties springs forth and takes shape.

This preparatory work for the future, thanks to direct action, is in no way contradictory to the daily struggle. The tactical superiority of direct action lies precisely in its unparalleled flexibility: the organizations energized by its practice are careful not to confine themselves to a static, hieratic waiting for social transformation. They live in the present moment with all possible combativeness, sacrificing neither the present to the future, nor the future to the present. It is from this ability to simultaneously address the necessities of the moment and those of the future, and from this alignment of the two tasks to be carried out simultaneously, that the ideal pursued, far from being obscured or neglected, is, by this very fact, clarified, defined, and more clearly envisioned.

And that is why it is as stupid as it is deceitful to label as “all or nothing” revolutionaries inspired by the methods of direct action. Certainly, they are in favor of wresting everything from the bourgeoisie! But, while waiting to be strong enough to accomplish this task of general expropriation, they do not remain inactive and neglect no opportunity to win partial improvements which, achieved through a reduction of capitalist privileges, constitute a kind of partial expropriation and pave the way for more far-reaching demands.

It therefore appears that direct action is the clear and pure embodiment of the spirit of revolt: it materializes the class struggle, bringing it from the realm of theory and abstraction into the realm of practice and realization. Consequently, direct action is the class struggle lived day by day; it is the ongoing assault against capitalism.

And that is why it is so reviled by politicians—a special kind of cicisbei ^​​[12] —who had appointed themselves the “representatives,” the “bishops” of democracy. Now, if the working class, disdaining democracy, transcends it and seeks its path beyond it, in the economic sphere, what will become of the “intermediaries” who set themselves up as advocates for the proletariat? And that is why it is even more reviled and condemned by the bourgeoisie! The latter sees its ruin harshly accelerated by the fact that the working class, drawing from direct action a growing strength and exaltation, breaking definitively with the past and forging, by its own means, a new mentality, is on the verge of creating the new environment.

The need for effort

It may seem paradoxical that there is a need to exalt the necessity of effort, since the struggle against obstacles of all kinds that oppose human expansion is normal.

Outside of action, what is there but inertia, cowardice, passive acceptance of servitude? In times of depression and inertia, men lower themselves to the level of beasts of burden; they are slaves toiling without hope; their brains remain barren, without vibrations, without ideas; the horizon is closed; the future is not imagined, not seen as better than the present.

But, let action begin! The torpor is shaken off, the stiffened brains are working, and a radiant energy transforms and fertilizes the human masses.

Because action is the spice of life… Or, more simply and more accurately, it is life itself! To live is to act… To act is to live!

The catastrophic miracle

These are commonplace observations! And yet, it is necessary to emphasize them, to glorify effort, because a depressing education has saturated the passing generation, imbued it with debilitating formulas. The futility of effort has been elevated to a theory, and it has been preached that all achievement would stem from the fatal play of events: catastrophe, it was announced, would occur automatically when, through a fateful process, capitalist institutions reached a point of maximum tension. Then, of their own accord, they would collapse! Human effort in the economic sphere was proclaimed superfluous, its action against the compressive environment from which it suffers was asserted as ineffective. Only one hope was left: to infiltrate one’s own people into bourgeois parliaments and await the inevitable catastrophic trigger.

We were told that this would happen in due time, mechanically, inevitably: capitalist concentration being accomplished by the play of the immanent laws of capitalist production itself, the number of potentates of capital, usurpers and monopolizers would always decrease… so that a day would come when, thanks to the conquest of political power, the people’s elected representatives would expropriate the handful of great barons of capital by means of laws and decrees.

A dangerous and depressing illusion indeed, this passive waiting for the arrival of the revolutionary messiah! In how many years or centuries will public power be won? And then, assuming it has been won, will the number of capital magnates have diminished so much by then? Even granting that trustification ^[13] has absorbed the middle bourgeoisie, will it follow that the latter will have been relegated to the proletariat? Might they not, rather, have been given a place in the trusts, and will not the number of parasites living without producing be at least equal to what it is today? If so, is it not to be assumed that the beneficiaries of the old society will resist the laws and decrees of expropriation?

These are all problems that arise and in the face of which the working class would find itself powerless, not knowing what to do, if it had made the mistake of continuing to hypnotize itself in the hope of a revolution occurring without direct effort on its part.

The so-called “iron law”

At the same time as we were being deluded with this messianic belief in the revolution, to depress us further, to better persuade us that there was nothing to try, nothing to do; to plunge us more completely into the filth of inaction, we were being indoctrinated with the “iron law of wages”. We were taught that by virtue of this inescapable formula (due mainly to Ferdinand Lassalle*), in the present society all effort is lost, all action vain, because the economic repercussions quickly restore the level of misery above which the proletariat cannot emerge.

By virtue of this iron law —which was then considered the cornerstone of socialism—it was proclaimed that “the average wage should not normally exceed the rate strictly necessary for the life of the worker ^.  ” And it was said: “This rate is regulated solely by capitalist pressure, and this pressure can even drive it below the minimum necessary for the worker’s subsistence… The only rule governing wage rates is the abundance or scarcity of labor…”

As proof of the inexorable workings of this wage law, the worker was compared to a commodity: if there is an abundance of potatoes at the market, they are cheap; if there is a scarcity, they become more expensive… The same is true of the worker, it was asserted; his wage varies with the abundance or scarcity of the flesh to be worked!

Against the logical chain of this absurd reasoning, no objection is raised; thus, the law of wages can be considered correct… as long as the worker consents to be a commodity! as long as, like a sack of potatoes, he remains passive, inert and suffers the fluctuations of the market, as long as he bends his back, endures all the boss’s indignities… the law of wages works.

But things change as soon as a glimmer of consciousness animates the potato-worker. When, instead of wallowing in inertia, cowardice, resignation and passivity, the worker becomes aware of his human value, is imbued with a spirit of revolt; when he vibrates, energetic, willful, active; when, instead of remaining foolishly attached to his fellows (like a potato next to its kind), he makes contact with them, reacts to them, just as they react to him, when the working class is enlivened, animated… then, the ridiculous balance of the law of wages is broken.

A new factor: the will of the workers!

A new element appears on the labor market: the will of the workers. And this element, unknown when it comes to setting the price of a bushel of potatoes, influences the setting of wages; its action can be more or less great, depending on the degree of tension of the workers’ force, which is a result of the agreement of individual wills vibrating in unison – but, strong or weak, it is undeniable.

Workers’ cohesion then raises a force capable of resisting capitalist power. The inequality between the two adversaries—undeniable when the exploiter faced only an isolated worker—is diminished in proportion to the degree of cohesion achieved by the workers’ bloc. Proletarian resistance, whether latent or acute, is now a daily occurrence; conflicts between labor and capital intensify and become more acute. Labor does not always emerge victorious from these partial struggles; however, even when it is defeated, there is still profit for the workers in struggle: their resistance has hindered employer pressure and, often, has even forced the employer to concede some of their demands. In this case, the strong sense of solidarity inherent in trade unionism is confirmed: the results of the struggle benefit both the unwitting and the unaware, and the strikers are satisfied with the moral satisfaction of having fought for the common good.

That worker cohesion leads to higher wages is something theorists of the “iron law” readily concede. The facts are so tangible that it would be difficult for them to seriously deny them. But they object that, alongside the increase in wages, there is also a rise in the cost of living, such that the worker’s purchasing power does not increase and the benefit of their highest wage is therefore negated.

There are circumstances in which this repercussion is observed; but this rise in the cost of living, directly related to the rise in wages, is not consistent enough to be considered a principle. Moreover, when this price increase occurs, it is—in most cases—proof that the worker, after having struggled against their employer as a producer , has neglected to defend themselves as a consumer. Very often, it is the passivity of the buyer toward the merchant, the tenant toward the landlord, and so on, that allows landlords, merchants, and others to recoup, through price increases, the benefits of the improvements the worker has acquired as a producer from the worker as a consumer.

Moreover, irrefutable proof that the rate of wages does not inevitably lead to a parallel increase in the cost of living is made in countries with short working days and high wages: life there is less expensive and less restricted than in countries with long working days and low wages.

Salary and cost of living

In England, the United States, and Australia, the daily working hours are often eight (nine at most), weekly rest is observed, and wages are higher than in France. Despite this, life is easier there. First, because in six days of work, or better yet, five and a half (work being suspended, in most cases, on Saturday afternoon), the worker earns enough to live on for seven days of the week; second, because, as a general rule , the cost of necessities is lower than in France, or at least cheaper, relative to the wage rate ^.

These findings refute the “iron law.” They refute it all the more because it is impossible to claim that the high wages in the countries in question are simply the result of a labor shortage. In the United States and also in Australia, just as in England, unemployment is rampant. It is therefore obvious that if working conditions are better in these countries, it is because a factor other than the abundance or scarcity of labor plays a role in their establishment: the will of the workers! These better conditions are the result of workers’ efforts, of the proletarian will refusing to accept a vegetative and limited existence, and they were won through the struggle against capital. However, the economic battles that have

I. Based on the pronouncements of superficial observers, many people accept without question and repeat that “life is expensive” in the countries mentioned above. What is true is that luxury goods are very expensive there; maintaining relationships is very costly; on the other hand, everything that is considered essential is inexpensive. Moreover, is it not known that wheat, fruit, canned goods, manufactured products, etc., arrive from the United States, for example, and (despite the markup imposed by transportation costs and also despite customs duties) compete with similar products on our market? It is therefore quite obvious that these products do not sell at higher prices in the United States… Many other compelling facts could be mentioned, but the scope of a brochure does not allow for it. [nda]

These improved conditions, however harsh they may have been, did not create a revolutionary situation; they did not pit labor against capital as enemies. Workers, at least on the whole, did not acquire their class consciousness  ; their aspirations have, until now, been too limited to a better adaptation within existing society. But times are changing! This class consciousness that they lacked—the English, the Americans, and others—are on the verge of acquiring.

If we shift our focus from examining countries with high wages and short working days to examining our rural regions, where, confident of finding an ignorant and docile population, many industrialists establish their factories, the opposite phenomenon is observed: wages are very low and working conditions excessive. This is because, here, the workers’ will is dormant, and capitalist pressure alone determines working conditions; the worker, unaware of his own strength and abilities, is reduced to the status of a mere commodity, so that the so-called “law of wages” operates against him without any counterbalance. But let a flame of revolt ignite this exploited population, and the situation will be transformed! It will suffice for the human dust that has hitherto constituted the proletarian mass to coalesce into a united union for the employers’ pressure to be neutralized by a force—weak and clumsy at first, but one that will quickly grow in power and awareness.

Thus, the facts reveal just how illusory and deceitful this so-called wage law is. They call it the “iron law”? Come on! It’s not even a rubber law!

The tragedy is that the consequences of this fateful formula infiltrating the working class were far more serious than a mere error in reasoning. How much suffering and disappointment it engendered! For far too long, alas, the working class lazed and dozed on this deceptive pillow. It was a logical chain of events: the theory of the futility of effort bred inaction. Since the sterility of action, the inanity of struggle, and the impossibility of immediate improvement were proclaimed, any inclination toward revolt was stifled. Indeed, what is the point of fighting if the effort is recognized in advance as vain and fruitless; if one knows one is headed for failure? Since only blows are to be reaped in battle—without hope of even the slightest gain—is it not better to remain passive?

And this was the prevailing view! The working class resigned itself to an apathy that played into the hands of the bourgeoisie. Thus, when, under the pressure of circumstances, the workers were forced into conflict, the struggle was accepted only reluctantly; the strike came to be seen as an evil that was suffered, for lack of being able to avoid it, and to which one resigned oneself, without hope that a favorable outcome could bring about any real improvement ^.

Excessive evil is not a cause of revolt!

Alongside this harmful belief in the impossibility of breaking the iron grip of the “law of wages,” and as an excessive deduction from both this “law” and the confidence in the inevitable arrival of revolution through the normal course of events, without any intervention from workers’ efforts, some rejoiced if they observed the growth of “pauperization,” the increase in misery, employer arbitrariness, government oppression, and so on. According to these poor reasoners, revolution was bound to spring from an excess of evil! Therefore, all

I. Maxime Leroy reminds us that strikes were initially “fought against as harmful” and “denounced as an evil [but] as an inevitable evil” (La Coutume ouvrière, op. cit., p. 638): we are also familiar with Proudhon’s consistent opposition to the practice of strikes, a viewpoint harshly criticized by Marx in his conclusion to The Poverty of Philosophy (chapter 6, “Strikes and Workers’ Coalitions”). The same Maxime Leroy observes that strikes “only rose to the forefront of workers’ concerns under the influence of trade unions” (La Coutume ouvrière, op. cit. , p. 637).

The resurgence of miseries, calamities, etc., seemed to them a good thing, bringing them closer to the fateful hour.

What a foolish mistake! What an absurdity! The abundance of ills—of whatever kind—only serves to depress those who suffer from them. It’s easy to see this for yourself. Instead of empty words, simply look around you.

Which trades have the strongest union activity? Those where, because working hours aren’t excessive, comrades can, once their work is done, maintain a social life, attend meetings, and take care of common affairs; those where wages aren’t so meager that every deduction for dues, a newspaper subscription, or the purchase of a book is equivalent to taking a loaf of bread off the table. Conversely, in trades where the duration and intensity of work are excessive, when the worker leaves the employer’s prison, he is physically and mentally “killed”; then, his only desire—before going home to eat and sleep—is to swallow a few sips of alcohol to shake himself out of it, perk himself up, and give himself a boost. He doesn’t think about going to the union, attending meetings — he can’t even think about it, his body is so worn down with fatigue, his depressed brain is so incapable of functioning.

Similarly, what effort is capable of the wretch who has fallen into endemic misery, the ragged man whom lack of work and deprivation have eliminated? Perhaps, in a surge of rage, he will sketch a gesture of revolt… but it will be a gesture without recurrence! Misery has emptied him of all will, of all spirit of revolt.

These observations—which anyone can verify and multiply—refute the strange theory that excessive misery and oppression are a catalyst for revolution. The opposite is the only true truth! The weak person, whose fate is precarious, whose life is restricted, who is materially and morally enslaved, will not dare to rebel under exploitation; for fear of the worst, they will cower, attempt no movement, no effort, and languish in their painful situation. It is different for the one who, through struggle, has become a man, who, having a less constricted life, has a more open mind, and who, having looked their exploiter in the face, knows themselves to be their equal.

This is why partial improvements do not lull workers to sleep; on the contrary, they provide them with comfort and an incentive to demand and insist on more. Improved well-being, which is always a consequence of the manifestation of proletarian power—whether those directly affected wrest it through hard struggle, or whether the bourgeoisie deems it prudent and skillful to make concessions to mitigate the shocks it anticipates or fears—results in raising the dignity and consciousness of the working class, and also—and above all!—in increasing and intensifying its militancy. Emerging from misery—both physical and intellectual—the working class becomes more refined; it acquires greater sensitivity, feels the exploitation it suffers more keenly, and is all the more determined to free itself from it; it also gains a clearer understanding of the irreconcilable opposition between its interests and those of the capitalist class.

But, however important they may be, minor improvements cannot replace revolution, nor do without it: capitalist expropriation remains necessary for complete liberation to be achievable.

Indeed, even assuming that we could drastically reduce the profits of capital and partially eliminate the harmful role of the state, it is unlikely that this reduction could reach zero. The power dynamics would remain unchanged: there would still be, on one side, employees and the governed, and on the other, employers and managers.

It is clear that partial gains (however significant they may be, even if they greatly curtail privileges) do not alter the economic relationships, which remain those of employer to worker, of manager to managed. Therefore, the subordination of the worker to both capital and the state persists. Consequently, the social problem remains entirely intact, and the “barricade” separating producers from the parasites who live off them is neither moved nor, even less so, leveled.

However short the working hours may become, however high the pay, however “comfortable” the factory may be from a hygiene standpoint, etc., as long as the relations of wage earner to wage earner, of ruler to ruled, persist, there will be two classes. Therefore, inevitably, there will be a clash between these two classes, a struggle of one against the other. And this struggle will gain in intensity and scope as the exploited and oppressed class, growing in strength and awareness, develops a more accurate understanding of its social worth: consequently, as it rises, educates itself, and improves, it will undermine the privileges of the antagonistic and parasitic class with ever-increasing energy.

And this will continue until the general outbreak! Until the day when the working class, having prepared within itself the final rupture, having hardened itself through continual and increasingly frequent skirmishes against its class enemy, will be powerful enough to launch the decisive assault… And this will be direct action taken to its maximum: the general strike!

Thus, in summary, a close examination of social phenomena allows us to refute the fatalistic theory that proclaims the futility of effort and the tendency to assume that improvement can emerge from an excess of evil. On the contrary, a clear understanding of these phenomena reveals the notion of a growing process of action: we observe that the retreats of the bourgeoisie, the piecemeal victories achieved against it, intensify the spirit of revolt; and we also observe that, just as life begets life, action begets action.

Force and violence ^[14]

Direct action, a manifestation of workers’ strength and will, takes the form, depending on the circumstances and environment, of acts that can be very innocuous, or they can be very violent. It’s simply a matter of necessity.

There is therefore no specific form of direct action. Some, very superficially informed, explain it by a copious smashing of windows. To be satisfied with such a definition—delightful for glaziers—would be to consider this blossoming of proletarian power from a truly narrow angle; it would be to reduce direct action to a more or less impulsive gesture, and it would be to neglect what gives it its great value, it would be to forget what the symbolic expression of the workers’ revolt is.

Direct action is the working class in creative labor: it is the force giving birth to new law – making social law!

Force is the origin of all movement, of all action, and necessarily, it is its culmination. Life is the blossoming of force, and without force, there is only nothingness. Without it, nothing manifests, nothing materializes.

To better deceive us and keep us under their yoke, our class enemies have hammered into us that inherent justice has no need of force. Nonsense from exploiters of the people! Without force, justice is nothing but deception and lies. The painful martyrology of peoples throughout the centuries bears witness to this: despite their causes being just, force, in the service of religious powers and secular masters, has crushed and ground down peoples; and this, in the name of a so-called justice that was nothing but a monstrous injustice. And this martyrology continues!

Minority against minority

The working masses are always exploited and oppressed by a parasitic minority which, if it had only its own forces, could not maintain its domination for a day, an hour! This minority draws its power from the unconscious consent of its victims: it is these – sources of all strength – who, by sacrificing themselves for the class that lives off them, create and perpetuate capital, and support the State.

But today, just as yesterday, it is not enough to dissect the social lies that serve as its principles, to expose its iniquity, to flaunt its crimes, to bring down this minority. Against brute force, an idea reduced to its mere means of persuasion is defeated from the outset. For an idea, a thought, however beautiful, is nothing but a soap bubble if it is not grounded in force, if it is not nurtured by it.

So, in order to stop the unconscious sacrifice of the majority to a pleasure-seeking and wicked minority, what is needed?

Let a force be built up, capable of counterbalancing that which the owning and ruling class derives from the cowardice and ignorance of the people. This force belongs to the conscious workers to materialize: the problem, for those who have the will to escape the yoke that the majorities create for themselves, is to react against so much passivity and to seek each other out, to understand each other, to reach an agreement.

This necessary work of revolutionary cohesion is carried out within the trade union organization: there, a growing minority is formed and develops which aims to acquire enough power to counterbalance first, and then annihilate, the forces of exploitation and oppression.

This power, entirely based on propaganda and action, works first and foremost to enlighten the unfortunate souls who, by becoming defenders of the bourgeois class, perpetuate the sickening saga of slaves, chained by their masters to fight the liberating rebels. No effort can be concentrated too much on this preparatory task. Indeed, one must fully grasp the repressive power of militarism. Against the unarmed people, their own sons, superiorly armed, constantly rise up. Now, historical evidence abounds showing that all popular uprisings that did not benefit from either the neutrality or the support of the people in disguise—the army—failed. It is therefore to paralyze this unconscious force, attributed to the leaders by a segment of the working class, that one must continually strive.

Having achieved this result, it will still be necessary to break the strength inherent in the parasitic minority — which we would be very wrong to consider negligible.

This, in broad outline, is the task that falls to conscious workers.

Inevitable violence

As for predicting the conditions and timing of the decisive clash between the forces of the past and those of the future, that remains purely hypothetical. What we can be certain of is that tensions, clashes, and more or less abrupt encounters will have preceded and prepared it. And what we can also affirm is that the forces of the past will not resign themselves to abdicating and submitting. It is precisely this blind resistance to inevitable progress that has, all too often in the past, marked the achievement of social progress with brutality and violence. And this cannot be stressed enough: the responsibility for this violence does not lie with the men of the future. For the people to decide on categorical revolt, necessity must drive them to it. He only resorts to it when a whole series of experiences have proven to him the impossibility of evolving through peaceful means and — even in these circumstances — his violence is only the benign and humane response to the excessive and barbaric violence of his masters.

If the people possessed violent instincts, they would not endure another twenty-four hours of the life of misery, deprivation, and hard labor—peppered with villainy and crime—that is the existence forced upon them by a parasitic and exploitative minority. There is no need, in this regard, to resort to philosophical explanations, to demonstrate that men are born “neither good nor bad” and that they become one or the other, depending on their environment and circumstances. The question is resolved by daily observation: it is undeniable that the people, sentimental and gentle-natured, possess none of the endemic violence that characterizes the ruling classes and that is the cement of their domination—legality being merely a thin veneer of hypocrisy, intended to mask this fundamental violence.

The people, depressed by the education they receive and saturated with prejudices, are forced to make a considerable effort to rise to consciousness. Yet, even when they succeed, far from being swept away by legitimate anger, they obey the principle of least effort; they seek and follow the path that seems to them the shortest and least fraught with difficulties. It is with them like the waters that, following their slope, flow to the ocean, sometimes calm, sometimes roaring, encountering more or less resistance depending on the direction. Certainly, they are heading towards revolution, despite the obstacles that the privileged place in their path; but they are heading there with fits and starts, hesitations that are the consequence of their peaceful disposition and their desire to avoid extreme solutions. Thus, when popular force, breaking through the obstacles that oppose it, sweeps like a revolutionary hurricane over the old societies, it is because it has been left with no other means of expansion. It is indeed undeniable that if this force had been able to flourish unhindered, by virtue of the principle of least effort, it would not have manifested itself in violent actions but would have expressed itself peacefully, majestically, and calmly. Is not the river that, with Olympian and irresistible slowness, flows peacefully toward the sea, formed of the same liquid molecules that, flowing in torrents through steep valleys, furiously swept away the obstacles that stood in its way? So it is with the power of the people.

The illusion of palliatives

But, since the people do not resort to force for pleasure, it would be dangerous to hope to replace this recourse by using palliatives of a parliamentary and democratic nature. Therefore, there is no voting mechanism—neither the referendum ^[15] nor any other procedure that claims to reveal the dominant popular desires—by which revolutionary movements can be avoided.

To indulge in such illusions would be to fall back into the painful experiences of the past, when the miraculous virtues attributed to universal suffrage concentrated widespread hope. Certainly, it is more convenient to believe in the omnipotence of universal suffrage, or even of the referendum, than to see the reality of things; this absolves one from taking action—but, on the other hand, it does not bring one any closer to economic liberation.

Ultimately, we must always come back to the inevitable outcome: the use of force!

However, the fact that any voting, referendum, or other such process is incapable of revealing the extent and intensity of revolutionary consciousness, as well as of replacing the use of force, should not lead us to conclude against its relative value. The referendum, for example, can be useful. In certain circumstances, there is nothing better than resorting to it. It is convenient—in cases clearly and precisely defined—to discern the direction of workers’ thought. Moreover, trade unions know how to use it when necessary (both those that, not yet having completely freed themselves from capitalist control, advocate state interventionism, and those that are clearly revolutionary). And they have done so for a long time! Neither group waited for attempts to establish it as a system or to make it a substitute for direct action.

It is therefore absurd to argue that the referendum is opposed to the revolutionary method—just as it would be absurd to claim that it is its inevitable complement. It is a mechanism for calculating quantities, insufficient for measuring qualities. This is why it would be unwise to expect it to be a lever capable of shaking the foundations of capitalist society. Its use—even if it increases—will not replace the necessary initiatives and indispensable vigor when the psychological moment arrives.

It is childish to speak of a referendum when it comes to revolutionary action — such as the storming of the Bastille ¹ … If, on July 14, 1789, the French guards had not passed over to the people, if a conscious minority had not stormed the fortress… if it had been necessary to prejudge the fate of the odious prison by a referendum, it is likely that it would still be blocking the entrance to the Faubourg Antoine ¹ .

The hypothesis put forward regarding the storming of the Bastille can be applied to all revolutionary events: submit them to the test of a hypothetical referendum and similar conclusions will be drawn.

No! There is no suffragist or referendist panacea that can replace the use of revolutionary force. But the issue must be clearly defined: this recourse to force does not imply the unconsciousness of the masses. On the contrary! And it is all the more effective when the masses possess a more enlightened consciousness.

For the economic revolution that capitalist society carries within it to finally blossom and lead to tangible results; for movements of retreat and fierce reaction to become impossible, those working on this great project must know what they want and act upon it. They must be conscious beings, not mere impulses! Now, let us not be mistaken, numerical force is truly effective—from a revolutionary standpoint—only if it is fueled by the initiative of individuals, by their spontaneity. By itself, it is nothing more than an accumulation of willless individuals, comparable to a mass of inert matter passively receiving impulses from without.

Thus, it turns out that direct action, while proclaiming the use of force inevitable, prepares the way for the downfall of regimes of force and violence, replacing them with a society of conscience and harmony. This is because it is the popularization, within the old society of authoritarianism and exploitation, of the creative concepts that liberate human beings: the development of the individual, the cultivation of the will, and training for action.

We are thus led to conclude that direct action, in addition to its value of social fertilization, carries within itself a value of moral fertilization, because it refines and elevates those it permeates, frees them from the matrix of passivity and excites them to radiate in strength and beauty.

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Part Two: Union interventions

The articles reproduced here focus on the main campaign launched by the CGT during Pouget’s time as assistant secretary: the campaign for the eight-hour day, from its launch at the congress held in Bourges in 1904 to its culmination in May 1906. All these texts come from the journal Le Mouvement socialiste, founded and directed by Hubert Lagardelle, who made it, from 1904 to 1910 approximately, the intellectual mouthpiece of revolutionary syndicalism, regularly opening its columns to many of its leaders, including Griffuelhes, Delesalle, Yvetot and Pouget, who specialized in reporting on the confederation congresses.

What is Syndicalism? (preamble)

Revolutionaries and reformers

Unions are playing an increasingly significant role in society. To be convinced of this, one need only observe the attention their activities receive in all sectors of society. While a few years ago the congresses of the General Confederation of Labour went unnoticed, today they are a major focus of public attention. This somewhat superficial symptom is not the only indication of the power acquired by workers’ organizations; a further sign of their undeniable strength is their growth, a growth manifested not only by numerical increase, but, more importantly, by a rise in awareness.

Among all the manifestations of trade union life, the most important of recent times was the corporate congress which was held in Bourges, from September 12 to 17: more than 1,200 organizations had mandated 400 delegates.

This was the most important trade union congress ever held in France. And its importance was further enhanced by the interest presented by the issues on the agenda. All converged around the following question: which current best responds to the aspirations of the workers, the “reformist” current or the “revolutionary” current?

However, depending on whether the congress voted one way or the other, the orientation of the General Confederation of Labour would be modified.

First of all, it is necessary to indicate what is inappropriate about these two labels – even if we use them for quicker understanding, since they have become commonplace, but without attaching their rigorous etymological meaning.

It would be inaccurate to assume that those who call themselves “revolutionaries” are stubbornly opposed to any present and minor improvements. This is so far from the truth that they very often claim to be the only truly reformist ones: what they are fighting is the channeling of the movement into legalistic channels, the system that establishes conciliation with employers as a principle and that leads to joint commissions, arbitration, the regulation of strikes, and “labor councils,” culminating in the “Superior Labor Council.” Revolutionaries pursue revolutionary ends, and all their actions, even those that, judged in isolation, might not appear clearly defined, are inspired by this concern: they posit as a principle that any minor improvement, in order not to be a mere illusion, must entail a reduction of capitalist privileges.

It is this constant striving for revolutionary ends that distinguishes them from the “reformists.” The latter are far from homogenous: they are an amalgam of both legalists and proponents of extreme conciliation. More than any others, the latter pose a danger to the working class: primarily concerned with the present moment, they prefer pacification to struggle and fail to perceive the disastrous repercussions that their tactic of constant self-effacement holds for workers, even in the near future.

This brief definition of each group highlights the inaccuracies of the labels “reformists” and “revolutionaries.” We will therefore use them only to note the two tendencies in a concise way that avoids circumlocution.

Many people – especially in political circles – claimed that the revolutionary current which, in recent years, has dominated the General Confederation of Labour was absolutely artificial, without consistency, without roots, and due simply to the action of a few individuals.

People commonly spoke of the “leaders” of the confederal committee, and it was implied that a handful of activists exercised a kind of hidden dictatorship within the General Confederation of Labour ¹ .

Those who spread these childish things can now admit how crude their illusion was.

The resolutions adopted at the Bourges congress were remarkably clear: after extensive debates, more than two-thirds of the represented organizations repeatedly declared themselves in favor of the revolutionary method. No ambiguity remained, and this is what underscores the importance of this congress: it was there that, for the first time, syndicalism, which denies the existence of contemporary society, along with its theories and methods of action, received a categorical endorsement. Consequently, the impact of these workers’ assemblies will be enormous, and it is not presumptuous to assert that from them will spring forth, definitively formed, the Party of Labor, hitherto contained only in potential within the workers’ organizations.

I. Let us recall that Pouget was elected assistant secretary of the CGT, in charge of La Voix du Peuple, on November 20, 1901, shortly after the Paris congress, a position which he would abandon in 1909.

A look back

Ten years have passed since 1894, when, at the corporate congress in Nantes, the divorce took place, in connection with the general strike, between parliamentary socialism, more concerned with political ends, and the trade unions, which already put the economic question in the forefront.

During these ten years, the working class has forged an organization for struggle with which capitalist society is forced to reckon. It was in Limoges, during the congress held there in 1895, that this organization was created, under the title: the General Confederation of Labour.

For the next five years, the General Confederation of Labour remained in its embryonic stage. Its activity was almost nonexistent, and most of its energy was spent highlighting a regrettable antagonism that had arisen between it and the Federation of Labour Exchanges. The latter organization then concentrated all the revolutionary activity of the trade unions, while the General Confederation of Labour languished; it must be said that the latter was being directed by those elements who, since then, have been more specifically classified under the label “reformist.”

It was only after the trade union congress held in Paris in 1900 ^{, when} La Voix du Peuple (The Voice of the People) was founded , and when revolutionary elements had gained prominence within the General Confederation of Labor, that, under this dual influence, this organization emerged from its dormant state. At the same time, the tensions between it and the Federation of Labor Exchanges subsided, so that a moral “unity,” invaluable for the struggle, foreshadowed what has since been called “workers’ unity.” This “unity,” the Montpellier congress of 1902 proclaimed necessary, and it…

I. This congress, the fifth of the CGT, was held from September 10 to 14. The delegates appointed a fifteen-member commission tasked with setting up the CGT’s weekly publication. The first issue of La Voix du Peuple was to be published at the end of December (week of December 16 to 23, 1900). This was achieved by merging these two organizations into one, which would henceforth constitute the General Confederation of Labour.

That the predominant influence of revolutionary elements had a positive effect on the rise of the Confederation can be demonstrated by a few statistics:

In 1900, when the Paris congress opened, the General Confederation of Labour comprised only sixteen national trade federations and five miscellaneous organizations or isolated unions. It is worth recalling that until the Lyon congress (in 1901), unions did not need to be confederated to participate in trade congresses .¹

In September 1904, on the eve of the Bourges congress, the General Confederation of Labour grouped fifty-three national corporatist federations or national unions, plus about fifteen isolated unions, all forming a force of more than 1,800 unions.

Thus, in four years, the Confederation’s power more than tripled! And let no one object that this rapid growth might simply be due to the normal expansion of the trade union movement. This hypothesis is refuted by the characteristic fact that the new federations are, for the most part, revolutionary in nature, and that, moreover, a number of them were formed thanks to the initiative of the Confederal Committee. Furthermore, an even more convincing observation: a quick examination of the federations’ growth reveals that almost exclusively those with revolutionary tendencies have grown, while those with more moderate tendencies have remained virtually unchanged.

Considering only the two organizations that can be considered as being at the two poles of the workers’ movement — the Book Federation and the Metallurgy Federation ^[16] -, we note that: the latter accused, in July 1902, III unions and 148 in July 1904; on the contrary, the Book Federation accused 161 in July 1902 and 159 in July 1904.

I. Pouget explains a little further on what it concretely meant to “be confederated” at that time.

Of the organizations that adopted the method described in the Book, only the Mechanics’ Federation and the Employees’ Federation increased their membership. In the same two-year period, the Mechanics’ Federation grew from twenty to forty-two unions, and the Employees’ Federation from twenty-eight to thirty-six. However, regarding the latter federation, it is worth noting that at the Bourges congress, nearly half of its unions (twenty-four versus twenty-five) declared themselves in favor of the revolutionary tendency.

The confederation body

The network of the confederal organization which links the unions together seems, at first glance, quite complicated; in reality, it is as simple as possible, given the propaganda and struggle necessities which it is essential to face.

The General Confederation of Labour is made up of two sections: the section of trade federations and the section of labour exchanges. These two branches carry out equally essential propaganda tasks.

By joining the Bourse du Travail (or local union of trades), unions from various sectors facilitate their propaganda efforts within a given city or region; a task they would find difficult, if not impossible, to accomplish if they became mired in debilitating isolation. This work, primarily educational, consists of establishing new unions and developing the consciousness of union members, so as to bring the largest possible number of workers into the union fold. To this end, the Bourse creates libraries, opens courses, assists in anti-militarist propaganda by housing young soldiers stationed within its jurisdiction, provides legal information, and so on.

Membership in the National Trade Federation is primarily driven by the need for militancy and resistance. These federations bring together unions from the same profession or industry and have a nationwide reach, making them powerful forces in the struggle. Should a conflict arise on any point, the collective solidarity of the federation acts as a counterweight to defeat employers. In this way, the individual strength of a union is amplified by the moral and material support of federated unions across France.

However, if the labor exchanges remained isolated from one another, and if the trade federations did the same, worker cohesion, stuck at an intermediate stage, could never acquire collective strength, since local organizations would be limited by the scope of their region and national organizations by the boundaries of their trade. To rise to greater power, these diverse bodies federate with one another and follow their own nature: federations with federations, and labor exchanges with each other.

It is at this level of the trade union organization that the General Confederation of Labour (CGT) emerged: it was made up of two sections, that of the professional federations and that of the Labour Exchanges. Each of these federal branches had, at its head, a committee made up of delegates from each member organization; these delegates were always subject to recall, and therefore remained in constant contact with the group that mandated them.

The “reformists” wanted to remove, at least from the federal section of the Bourses du Travail (labor exchanges), this federative character; they advocated the appointment, by plebiscite, of a central committee of thirty-five members, elected by list ballot by all the Bourses du Travail. Had this innovation been considered, a blow would have been struck against this federalist structure, paving the way for a centralizing mechanism that would have been detrimental to trade unionism. But, without discussion, the Bourges congress set aside this reactionary proposal.

So the federalism of the General Confederation of Labour remained intact. And, just like the other corporate bodies, the two committees — the committee of the Exchanges section and the committee of the federations section — are autonomous; they decide on the propaganda that falls within their remit, exercise solidarity according to their sphere of action and cope with it with the resources provided by the specific contributions that each of them collects.

Finally, the last level is the Confederal Committee; it is formed by the meeting of delegates from the two sections, and it is responsible for all general propaganda of interest to the entire working class. Thus, to cite an example of its tasks, it suffices to note that when the campaign of agitation against the employment agencies was to be launched , a ^special commission, appointed by the Confederal Committee, was tasked with carrying it out. The Confederal Committee has no resources of its own, and its expenses are shared equally by the two sections.

The Montpellier congress, by “unifying,” as just described, the General Confederation of Labour, had

I. Fee-based employment agencies, still very numerous at the beginning of the 20th ^century (there were three hundred in Paris in 1900), had in fact existed for centuries. Primarily intended, initially, for the placement of domestic servants, they extended their services to other professions, such as waiters, bakers, butchers, etc. There was a strong movement of unrest against them from 1886 onwards, particularly among Parisian waiters: two of these agencies were targeted by dynamite attacks.

It was stipulated that no union could be considered truly confederated unless it fulfilled the dual condition of affiliation with its local labor exchange and its national federation. As is only fair, an exception was made for unions in regions where there was no labor exchange or local union.

It was this double stipulation, strictly observed at the Bourges congress, which made the verification of mandates so laborious that it absorbed two full days.

It should be noted that, for the first time, the new confederal body was undergoing the test of a congress, which explains the slowness of this preliminary work; slowness which will surely be avoided at future congresses.

During this lengthy verification of mandates, the congress showed excessive rigor: the few unions that had sent delegates, without however having been able to fulfill the double condition of affiliation to their Bourse du travail and to their federation, were not allowed to participate in the congress, despite the valid excuses they provided.

However, this inexorable measure should not be seen as an exaggerated fetishism of the confederation statutes. The activists do not consider them as an inviolable law and they are inspired more by their spirit than by the letter; only, in the circumstance, they have decided under the influence of a concern that has been close to their hearts for two years: they want to make it clear to everyone that simultaneous membership – what has been called “the double obligation” – in the bodies of the two confederation sections is an unavoidable necessity.

Therefore, the congress, in rejecting “flawed” unions, did not do so “because of the bylaws,” but because it wanted to affirm that a union is an incomplete organization if it fulfills only one of the two clauses, and thus fails to fulfill part of its propaganda and solidarity functions. And it was all the more ruthless because the question of dual membership was being raised for the first time, in order to clearly demonstrate its inescapable necessity.

The Labour Party

The goal pursued by the General Confederation of Labour is clearly defined by Article 1 of its statutes:

It brings together, outside of any political school, all workers aware of the struggle to be waged for the disappearance of wage labor and employers.

This brief statement of principle can be considered as containing the entire essence of syndicalist doctrine. And, precisely, what distinguishes the workers’ movement from the various socialist schools—and constitutes its superiority—is its doctrinal restraint. It is to this that its great flexibility can be attributed, thanks to which workers with very clear and even divergent political opinions rub shoulders in its organizations and campaign there in harmony.

In trade unions, there’s little philosophizing. We do better: we act.

This explains why, in corporate groups, elements from all social schools converge.

There, on the neutral ground of the economic sphere, these elements, through friction, lose their particular rough edges, retaining only the principles common to all: the will for improvement and complete emancipation. There, a vibrant “unity” is realized, which others have unsuccessfully sought to create in the political arena. There, men who, in political circles, find themselves adversaries, march in agreement, without any ulterior motives.

This phenomenon can be explained by the fact that, since trade unions are centers of real and effective action, the beneficial influence of this action extinguishes, or at least subsides, the opposing viewpoints between different schools of thought. This is all the more true because these oppositions stem less from fundamental differences and more from distinctions based on abstract concepts or political rivalries.

From yet another perspective, trade unionism can be seen as unifying social ideas by freeing them from all the superstructures that give them a particularist character. Its theoretical conceptions are, in their broad outlines, those that inspired the International Workingmen’s Association: thus, it rightly claims to be its successor, with the differences in detail and organization that the environment entails.

It is therefore not presumptuous to assert that trade unionism is the quintessence of the various social doctrines, after the elimination of anything narrow and overly systematic they may have.

Thus, starting from the simple to arrive at the complex, coming from unconsciousness to rise to consciousness, is formed this party of Labour which, while pursuing the revolutionary ends proclaimed by the organic article of the CGT, does not neglect current contingencies and, moreover, establishes no doctrinal barrier, poses no credo which could offend a worker or displease him and, thus, exclude him from corporatist organizations.

It will be objected that this unification of the working class, on the path to its emancipation, is not as complete as would be desirable, since resistance is occurring, and in the CGT – as in political parties – there are two camps: that of the “reformists” and that of the “revolutionaries”.

Although it is easy to observe that, in any human settlement, this formation of two poles is a constant phenomenon, which does not imply division or split, other arguments refute this objection. On closer inspection, the “reformists” do not have a clear strategy; they are rather a hybrid of conservatism and syndicalism. Indeed, they declare their acceptance of the CGT’s founding article, which sets as its goal the abolition of employers.1

I. See above, note II, p. 55. And they too often act in contradiction to this principle; they also sometimes align themselves with bourgeois legality, which is equally contradictory. But these regressive manifestations, by virtue of not adhering to any principle, do not jeopardize workers’ unity, and one can be certain that, under the pressure of events, these elements will be forced to intensify the movement and evolve with the union bloc.

Moreover, the accuracy of this assessment was repeatedly confirmed during the Bourges congress; the “reformists” often found themselves sharing ideas and tactics with the “revolutionaries”; some even seemed to want to avoid being categorized with the “reformists.” On the contrary, the “revolutionaries” were completely unambiguous and clearly and precisely stated their aspirations.

Therefore, it would be inaccurate to seek to establish a parallel between political parties, which are fragmented and divided according to the particular objectives they pursue, and corporate elements, which, unified by the General Confederation of Labour, have a common goal and inevitably remain coherent, despite the observation of diverse trends.

Methods of action

To complete this outline of the confederal body, it only remains to briefly describe the methods of action that distinguish the trade union movement and give it a unique character.

Let us first state that these methods are not inspired by the common idea of ​​democracy. Indeed, although operating in an environment steeped in democratic ideals, trade union activists, within corporate organizations, shed any democratic prejudices they might have. And this does not apply only to revolutionaries, since, in Bourges, the secretary of the Book Workers’ Federation, Keufer himself, was led to declare himself free from any democratic illusions.

Union methods of action are therefore not an expression of the consent of a majority, determined by universal suffrage. Moreover, this could not be the case in most circumstances, since unionism rarely encompasses almost all workers: too often, it represents only a minority. Now, if the democratic system were practiced in workers’ organizations, the unwillingness of the unconscious and non-unionized majority would paralyze all action. But this minority intends not to relinquish its demands and aspirations to the inertia of a mass that is content with economic servitude. Consequently, it has an inexorable obligation to act without regard for the recalcitrant mass, under penalty of being forced to submit with the same ease as the unconscious.

Moreover, this amorphous, majority-oriented mass ^[17] would be ill-advised to complain. It is the majority that benefits from the actions of the minority; it is the majority that reaps all the rewards of the victories won over the employers. On the contrary, activists are often the victims of the struggle; the employers hunt them down, ostracize them, and starve them, fortunate indeed if the government, those good policemen of capital, do not hunt them down and imprison them.

Union action, however small the militant minority, never has an individual and particularistic aim; it is always a manifestation of solidarity and all workers interested in the action, although not participating in it in any way, are called upon to benefit from the results achieved.

And no one has any reason to complain about such a method, not even the oblivious, whom the activists have scarcely considered anything more than human zeros, possessing only the numerical value that a zero adds to a number when placed to its right. Why would they complain? The union is not a closed group, and far from wanting to do without their participation, the activists strive to bring them into it.

Thus emerges the enormous difference in method that distinguishes syndicalism from democratism: the latter, through the mechanism of universal suffrage, gives leadership to the unconscious, the tardigrades (or rather, to their representatives), and stifles the minorities who hold the future within them. The syndicalist method, on the other hand, yields a diametrically opposed result: it disregards the masses who refuse to will, and only the conscious are called upon to decide and act.

The most typical example to cite to show how deeply the union method of action permeates the corporate movement—and is practiced even by those least inclined toward unionism—is the miners’ referendum, held in April 1901, on the advisability of a general strike within the industry ^. At the Lens congress, where this referendum was decided, it was agreed that those who abstained would be considered to be in favor of the majority. It is worth noting that this decision, inspired by pure unionist methods, was adopted not on the proposal of one of its fervent supporters, but on the advice of Citizen Basly, a democrat! This is not surprising; it simply demonstrates that the economic current has a driving force that breaks down individual resistance and compels even the most ardent opponents of its method to accept it.

Moreover, this is not an isolated case; the slightest examination of the resistance and attack tactics in force in corporate organizations reveals that all are inspired by the trade union method.

The strike, which is the most basic form of action, is a manifestation of revolt by a minority. Certainly, it can happen—and this is increasingly observed—that a majority of interested workers, sometimes even almost unanimously, take the initiative to stop work. ^{[18] [19]} This is a sign of growing worker consciousness, which in no way invalidates the principle of the strike.

The rulers understand very well that the strike carries within it this revolutionary character and they fear its dangers; that is why they seek to weaken it by inoculating it with the democratic virus and by making the workers cozy with the bosses, thanks to the system of class “collaboration”.

Millerand’s plan for compulsory arbitration and strike regulation, inspired by the insightful and staunch defender of bourgeois privileges, Waldeck-Rousseau, was based on pure democratic theories. But the reception among workers was rather cold! And it was with the same disdain that mixed institutions, which sought to bring workers and exploiters together in continuous collaboration, were met; the lamentable failure of the “labor councils” did little to encourage those who would cripple the trade union movement to pursue this path.

The idea of ​​a strike has remained intact: the economic conflict that is a strike is a struggle between two elements with opposing interests, and it is becoming increasingly apparent to the proletariat that there is no other solution to these conflicts than that resulting from the clash of the two forces present.

As much as the strike, the various forms of union action against employers are manifestations of the will of conscious minorities.

What is sabotage ^II , if not a means of action within reach of workers who, feeling surrounded by spineless comrades, want, although too few in number to resist by open struggle, to hold the exploiter in check?

Boycotting and labeling— which are the counterpart of each other—derive from the same principles and are also revolutionary in essence.

Boycott is a call for solidarity, formulated by a minority that wants to blacklist the enemy it designates.

As for the label, whose less brutal action may seem inspired by more peaceful intentions, it is no exception and, like the previous methods, it is a call for solidarity, always emanating from a minority. It is an invitation extended by a corporation (or rather, by the active element of that corporation) to the working class, so that they might use their consumer power in favor of their comrades in the indicated corporation, without it costing them anything more than a thought of solidarity. And this is done very simply: by purchasing from the merchants and manufacturers that the “union label” recommends as respecting union conditions.

Having established that the means of daily resistance and partial struggle against employers are adequate to syndicalist theories, it is unnecessary to insist on demonstrating that the idea of ​​a general strike has the same origin. Readers of Le Mouvement socialiste need only refer to the latest issues: in the “Inquiry into the General Strike ^[20]  ” the prevailing opinion among revolutionary syndicalists on this point is set forth.

Now that, in the preceding pages, I have outlined, albeit incompletely, the workings of the General Confederation of Labour, the theories and methods of trade union action, let us turn to the debates of the congress.

The congress

The nature of the congress

The agenda, excessively full, included some fifteen questions relating to the various facets of the trade union movement. This was far too many. And yet, it was few considering how agendas are typically compiled at trade union congresses. Any affiliated union can, on its own initiative, place on the agenda any question or questions it deems worth discussing. The Confederal Committee does not have the authority to make a selection or to eliminate items. Consequently, instead of finding our workers’ congresses burdened with questions, one can, on the contrary, see in this a sign of the restraint shown by the unions.

In fact, of the fifteen or so points that were open for discussion, everyone agreed that those concerning the “two methods” ^[21] would take center stage  ; as for the others, by necessity, they would be neglected, given the lack of time. This is what happened.

One could even consider that the congress gave more than expected. After clearing the ground by resolving the irritating problem of “reformists” and “revolutionaries”, it had time to clearly assert its tendencies by deciding on general action with the eight-hour day as its platform.

That was the moral character of the congress. As for its material character, it was not only characterized by the considerable number of delegates and unions represented, but also by the particular constitution of this representation.

The considerable effort undertaken by the “reformists,” hoping to change the direction of the CGT, could only succeed by obtaining a majority at the congress. This explains why 128 sections of the Book Workers’ Federation were present in Bourges, whereas at the Montpellier congress barely thirty had sent delegates, and at the Lyon congress their number was limited to about ten. Should we deduce from this considerable surge that, by some fortunate phenomenon, the Book Workers’ sections, hitherto relatively inactive, suddenly found themselves seized by a fever of intense activity? It is doubtful that this explanation is the correct one. Some Book Workers’ sections have only a tiny number of members, and if we add that the largest of these sections—that of Paris—was not consulted regarding sending a delegate to the congress ^, we must recognize that this mobilization was due to reasons other than an increase in vitality.

Another fact, of roughly the same order, was the considerable number of sections of the national railway union participating in the congress, namely forty-six. At previous congresses, few sections attended and the railway union was keen to participate, as a “national union”, in order to clearly distinguish itself from the federations.

But, beyond these symptoms that revealed secondary concerns, one fact that gave the congress a very special character was the entry of the agricultural workers into the fray. Already at the Montpellier congress, a few peasant delegates stood out among the workers’ delegations. In Bourges, the peasant bloc was enormously strengthened: thirty agricultural unions from the South and more than forty loggers’ unions from the Center, not to mention a few gardeners’ unions, represented the peasantry.

This is a phenomenon with far-reaching consequences for the future. Until now, the rural masses had remained, with rare exceptions, resistant to socialist propaganda, which, despite repeated attempts, had failed to sway them. And now these masses are stirring! They are mobilizing under the influence of syndicalist propaganda, which has succeeded in drawing into social life the peasant masses whom the bourgeoisie proclaimed the bulwark of conservatism. For syndicalist theories, this is a clear sign of their fertile potential.

It should also be noted that these rural unions, like most recently formed unions, are animated by a fervent revolutionary spirit. They have given proof of this: the agricultural workers of southern France during the recent strikes; the lumberjacks during their protest movement, thanks to which they recently obtained a considerable wage increase.

What, on the other hand, indicates how developed union consciousness is among these comrades in the land is the decision they took in a special meeting attended by all the peasant delegates.

It should be noted that the congress was not limited to the sessions themselves and that, outside of the sessions, it had its extension in meetings which brought together one or another category of delegates.

At one of these meetings, the delegates of the peasantry laid the foundations for a Land Agreement which would unite all the various peasant federations into a vast network.

The “Book” in question

When, after two days of irritating discussions, the overly long verification of mandates was finally completed, Comrade Keufer, secretary of the Book Federation—whom no one had seen at a trade congress for some eight years—opened the discussion on the reports presented by the Confederal Committee. Immediately, broadening the debate, he raised the question of the “two methods.”

He criticizes the confederal committee for not respecting the letter of the confederal statutes and, moreover, for neglecting their spirit by not striving to achieve real unity, moral unity.

The committee violated the letter of the statutes by admitting miners’ unions in isolation and, after excluding the miners’ federation, by helping to establish a rival federation. Furthermore, it admitted the national proofreaders’ union, despite the fact that proofreaders are recognized as an integral part of the book industry.

Keufer’s moral grievances are even more specious: he portrays the Book Federation as a victim of the “leaders” of the confederation committee… He elaborates on his complaints: activists, sent by the confederation committee to spread propaganda in the provinces, viciously denigrated the Book industry. He names culprits: Yvetot in Dijon, Beausoleil* in Rennes.

And why are they attacking the Book, whose purity of intention Keufer proclaims? Because it is inspired by a more reasoned method than direct action, because it has no confidence in the general strike, because it expects nothing from the revolution.

After many other criticisms of the same kind, Keufer puts the organ of the General Confederation of Labour, La Voix du Peuple , on trial  : he criticizes it for its tendencies and also for having attacked the moderate federations.

Keufer sees the cause of all the evil in the anarchist infiltration and, he concludes, in order not to increase the tensions, in a spirit of conciliation, he submits a motion inviting the confederal committee to remain faithful to the statutes.

This was, in veiled terms, a formal rebuke to the committee, which, it should be remembered, is composed of delegates chosen by the federations and always subject to their recall. Such an agenda item, had it been adopted, would have signified that not only the confederal committee, but also the federative bodies, were at odds with the constituent elements of the General Confederation of Labour: with the trade unions.

But Keufer’s attack has unforeseen consequences for his federation: the debate takes an abrupt turn, and the aggressor is forced onto the defensive instead of being on the offensive. It’s a classic case of the pot calling the kettle black.

The demonstration has been made that Keufer is wrong to portray the Book as a victim: it is proven that Beausoleil in Rennes and Yvetot in Dijon did not use the language which they are accused of using; it is proven, on the contrary, that the delegates of the Book are not stingy with slander; it is also demonstrated that the criticisms addressed to La Voix du Peuple are misdirected and should be formulated and amplified against the organ of the Book federation, La Typographie française.

And here is Villeval*, from the National Union of Proofreaders, who elevates the debate and, with a wealth of documentation, highlights that the Book is not inspired by the fundamental principles of the General Confederation of Labor, which proclaim that trade unionism has revolutionary aims; instead of having as its constant objective the abolition of wage labor, the Book pursues a work of temporization and compromise with capital. Wholly preoccupied with the immediate task at hand, it sacrifices everything to pacification. Now, Villeval concludes, here at the congress, corporatist differences fade away, and we must rise to the search for a solution to the social question.

Villeval offers an explanation for the special case of the National Proofreaders’ Union, which is the equivalent of a trade federation. Why does the book industry object to its affiliation with the General Confederation of Labour, while approving the admission of other trade federations? Furthermore, this organization is not as glaring an anomaly as it is claimed, since Germany, whose high level of organization is often praised, also has a National Proofreaders’ Union.

Following Villeval, the tactics of the Book Workers’ Federation continued to be scrutinized. A petty method was noted to prevent the provincial typesetters from developing a critical spirit: they were kept in the dark about the debates held by their Parisian colleagues, because the revolutionary tone prevailed; the proceedings were published as a supplement to the journal * Typographie* and distributed only to Parisian members. Another serious incident attributed to a typesetters’ union was that its secretary, preoccupied above all with avoiding any conflict, intervened to force a category of workers to accept a wage reduction, despite their protests. These workers had the audacity to balk at the reduction, and it was even declared to them: “If you don’t accept it, you won’t be considered strikers.”

Thus, the accumulation of facts clarified the unease and misunderstanding that Comrade Guérard had pointed out and lamented. And Pouget was quite right to reply: this unease, this misunderstanding, stemmed not from the disagreement between “reformists” and “revolutionaries,” but from the fact that some only half-heartedly accepted the principles of the General Confederation of Labor and were solely focused on reaching an agreement with employers. Let them clearly pursue the ultimate goal of capitalist expropriation, and the much-vaunted moral unity will be achieved!

This public debate, which focused on the tactics of the Book Federation – and which had the misfortune of being too particular – will nevertheless have happy consequences: it will have opened horizons for many delegates, both typographers and other corporations, and the true cohesion of the workers, made up of common thoughts and tendencies, can only be further strengthened.

The Case of Minors

One of the reformists’ arguments against the confederal committee was its attitude towards the miners: it was accused of only admitting mining organizations whose aspirations coincided with its own and of not accepting the old miners’ federation.

These are the reproaches formulated by citizen Boyanique*, of the Albi Workers’ Glassworks ¹ , and Hardy*, of the Marshals, whose grandiloquent manner has the gift of loosening up the congress: in the opinion of the latter, Garnery*, who was sent last year, by the confederal committee, to the congress of the old federation, in Carmaux, to try to bring together the two sections of the mining proletariat, would have done better to stay at home.

I. The Albi Workers’ Glassworks, known as the VOA, was created by the glassworkers of Carmaux, with the support of the socialist deputy Jean Jaurès. Supported by numerous workers’ organizations (political, trade union, cooperative), it was inaugurated in October 1896 and began operations on January 1, ^1897. Maxime Leroy reminds us, in *La Coutume ouvrière* (op. cit., p. 701), that the Glassworks was not strictly speaking a cooperative since the shareholders were not its own workers but workers’ organizations. Throughout his activist life, Pouget often addressed the problems encountered by the VOA. He devoted several articles to it in 1914 in *La Guerre sociale* , and it was on this subject that he wrote what would be his last known “social” piece: entitled “At the Workers’ Glassworks,” it appeared in the July 22-28 issue of *La Guerre sociale* , just before the declaration of war.

To these criticisms, Merzet*, delegate of Montceau-les-Mines, initially responds:

He recounts the history of the divisions within the mining proletariat and, with supporting documents, places the blame on Cotte*, Basly, and Lamendin. He recalls that the split occurred after the Miners’ Congress held in Alès in April 1902 and was motivated by the machinations of men detrimental to the miners’ union who wanted to avoid the general strike, which had been decided by two referendums. It is therefore unreasonable to claim that the Confederal Committee bore any responsibility for this split, given that at that time it had no connection whatsoever with the Miners’ Federation. Previously, the Federation (at the Lens Congress of 1901) had refused to consider a proposal from the Montceau union to join the General Confederation of Labor.

Merzet adds that the October 1902 strike brought the disintegration of this federation to a head; the movement was launched with strange haste and, shortly after, under the influence of Basly and Lamendin, the miners of Pas-de-Calais, who had given the impetus for the cessation of work, took the path back to the mine, abandoning the comrades of the other basins.

Meanwhile, the Montceau-les-Mines and Decazeville unions had joined the General Confederation of Labour (CGT) independently, and other unions later applied for membership. Only then did the Miners’ Federation also decide to apply for confederation.

It was then that the confederation committee made an unsuccessful attempt at a merger. The final incident in these talks took place at the Carmaux congress, where the dissenting delegates were poorly received and where Garnery, the General Confederation of Labour delegate acting as mediator, was not even admitted.

These explanations from Merzet are confirmed by Garnery, as well as by Pouget, who points out that the Miners’ Federation’s request for membership only occurred when a number of unions had abandoned it to join the Confederation individually.

Griffuelhes then adds that the confederation committee did not take an exceptional decision with regard to the miners: the measures it took concerning them, it also took with regard to the municipal workers who were also cut into two sections, and its intervention had the happy result of bringing back unity in the corporation, and if it was not the same with regard to the miners, the fault is not its own.

This declaration, which was underlined by the congress’s approvals, was confirmed by the delegate of the Lyon Road Workers’ Union.

Approval of the committee’s actions

With comrade Guérard, who also takes issue with the confederal committee, the criticisms are less down-to-earth than with Keufer: he broadens the scope of the discussion and takes care to distance himself slightly from Keufer, whose moderation does not satisfy him.

Guérard’s thesis consists of demonstrating that the confederal committee carried out political work, and this in two ways:

— Firstly, thanks to the influence of a personality he does not name — and who, from the sketched portrait, may be Griffuelhes — whom he criticizes for being the man of a political party and for having done pure anti-ministerialism.

— Secondly, because, on the eve of the municipal elections of May 1904, the confederal committee did a political work by launching a poster to encourage voters not to vote, a poster which seems to have been the work of the anarchists of the committee.

On this slightly contradictory theme — for Blanquist politics ^[22] and anarchist “politics” hardly seem made to vibrate in unison — had Guérard hoped to find an argument to dissociate the syndicalist bloc, by pitting the parliamentary revolutionaries against the anti-parliamentarians? Perhaps! But if that was his intention, he failed.

However, his speech was summed up in his condemnation of the dangers of political infiltration in trade unions, thus implying that politics was flourishing there again: he showed that trade unions can only necessarily be interest groups; and, as proof of the havoc that politics wreaks within them, he cited the example of the Rennes group, of the national railway union, whose membership in a political organization reduced the number of members from 800 to 80.

Then, making a slight foray into tactics, he said that direct action was a very old thing, under a new name, and wrongly limited it to the act of violence, the usefulness of which he did not deny.

In conclusion, he wished the activists to strive for unity, in order to get ever closer to the beautiful trade union motto: “Well-being and freedom!”

Latapie responded to Guérard. And the warm applause that greeted him proved that he had most accurately captured the prevailing theme of the congress. He challenged Guérard’s narrow classification into supporters and opponents of politics and demonstrated that within the General Confederation of Labor (CGT), activists from various social schools of thought were united; their shared concern was to prevent government interference in the unions. Furthermore, outside the union, each individual was free to engage with parliamentarianism or not. He then showed that reforms imposed from above, granted by the government, could not be lasting in contemporary society; only improvements won through union action against capitalist privileges were truly effective.

Latapie defines syndicalist action; he proves that it is sufficient for all the work of emancipation; he indicates that one may be led to make religious criticism, given that all religions preach resignation, which is the negation of syndicalism.

Therefore, we must fight against the army, against the Church, and against the State!

He acknowledges that the Metallurgy Federation follows a certain “policy”, since it includes – and it is, he believes, the only one in this case – at the head of its statutes, the transformation of capitalist society into a collectivist or communist society; but it is a revolutionary “policy” which leaves the organizations their full independence.

Turning to the role of the State, it shows how manifest its incompetence was regarding the first and second tiers of the ten-hour law ^. While the workers were simply demanding respect for the law, it was against them that the government sent troops, thus protecting the violators of the law!

Lawmakers tell unions, “It’s up to you to enforce the law,” so why bother discussing bills? Parliaments are merely rubber stamps, anyway. In England, the law regulating the working day was only passed once it had been implemented by the working class.

What we would like, we must say so to guard against the danger: is to transform trade union organizations into state bodies, as in Switzerland ^II  ; but the system has not I. The law of ten hours of work per day, known as the “Millerand law”, adopted on March 30, 1900, was to be applied in two stages: reduction in 1902 to ten and a half hours, then, in 1904, definitive reduction to ten hours.

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II. Pouget likely had in mind the Swiss Workers’ Federation, also known as the “New Workers’ Union,” founded in 1887 in Aarau. This umbrella organization brought together all sorts of trade unions, workers’ associations (Catholic and Protestant), and health insurance funds. Its workers’ secretariat, subsidized by the Swiss government (Federal Council), was responsible for providing statistics and developing the basis for social legislation. In exchange for this official recognition, the Federal Council imposed very strict conditions on the organization: foreign workers were considered undesirable, and strikes were deemed illegal. It should be noted, however, that at the time Pouget wrote this article, the Swiss Workers’ Federation was already in decline, facing competition from the USS (Swiss Trade Union Federation), which was close to the Socialist Party. This was hardly encouraging, as even in the “free” Helvetic, union members wanted to shake off the yoke of the state.¹

Union unity is necessary, certainly! But this unity is only possible if the trade unions comply with the revolutionary direction given by the founding statutes of the Confederation.

A few other delegates intervene in the discussion, but without bringing any new facts; so there is nothing left to do but listen to Griffuelhes who, as secretary of the Confederation, has the task of refuting all the criticisms.

Above, I noted the clarification of the criticisms leveled by the Book Federation and also the case of the miners; this was Griffuelhes’ argument. Returning to it would be pointless repetition. It remains for me to indicate the refutation of Guérard’s criticisms concerning the supposedly abstentionist poster and Griffuelhes’ anti-ministerial leanings. On this last point, which concerned the criticisms leveled at Minister Combes for his conduct during the police assault on the Paris Bourse du Travail (Labor Exchange) on October 29, 1903, Griffuelhes recalls that following the previous occupation of the Bourse du Travail in 1901, a similarly virulent protest against Waldeck-Rousseau appeared in La Voix du Peuple (The Voice of the People) , a protest due to the collaboration of Guérard and Pouget. Therefore, the criticisms leveled against him are unfounded: today, as I. It would be necessary to wait until 1905 to see the formation of the FUOSR (the Federation of Workers’ Unions of French-speaking Switzerland), an organization that claimed to follow the French revolutionary syndicalist model. In 1906, it established a press organ, whose title was directly borrowed from that of the French CGT (General Confederation of Labour), La Voix du Peuple.

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II. The events of October 29, 1903, were a striking demonstration of the zeal of Prefect Lépine’s police officers, who, after storming the Paris Bourse du Travail (Labor Exchange), charged, sabers drawn, at the attendees of a union meeting. Pursuing the workers present up to the upper floors, into the offices, and even onto the building’s glass roof, they left eighty-four seriously injured, some of whom sustained as many as fifteen wounds. The actions of these “guardians of order” were so brutal that the event provoked a debate in Parliament the very next day.

Previously, in La Voix du Peuple , the focus was not on anti-ministerialism, but on defending trade unions.

Next, Griffuelhes explains the circumstances surrounding the launch, on the eve of the municipal elections, of the poster that Guérard considered an anarchist act. He first indicates that the committee members who professed anarchist ideals viewed it unfavorably, and that those who initiated it were, outside the union, supporters of parliamentary action who, at that time, had no electoral concerns: they wanted to exert decisive pressure, and it should be noted that their goal was achieved. Moreover, this poster retained its purest union character; it was of the same nature as those produced at the same time by the newspaper Le Livre for the popularization of the label. It would have been a political act if preferences or antipathies had been expressed toward a candidate; but this was not the case!

Having dismissed all criticism, Griffuelhes concluded by declaring it necessary for the congress to decide unambiguously for or against the management, propaganda and actions of the confederal committee.

The results of the vote were categorical: out of 1,214 unions participating in the congress, 825 voted for the adoption of the confederation report and 369 against.

This formidable majority destroyed all the sophistry produced especially by the Book, which consisted of claiming that the General Confederation of Labour was “led” by a few individuals in total disagreement with the trade unions.

Proportional representation

Proportional representation was the “high point” of the congress, the “boil” in the words of a caustic delegate.

This last definition seems to be the most accurate, since proportional representation was merely a weapon of war, devised by reformists against revolutionaries. It was hoped—as the president of the Lille Typographers’ Union too naively admitted—that the Confederation could be purged of its libertarian element.

The hope was childish. It was to grant paramount importance to a voting method which has only relative value, since its scope is limited to a notation of ideas and trends; this confidence placed in a mechanical process was a kind of fetishism in favor of the very secondary thing that is a voting method.

It is worth noting that proportional representation as conceived in the political arena has nothing in common except the name with the proportional representation advocated in economic groups.

In the political arena, opinions are at stake, and if the only means of distinguishing between them is the simplistic mechanism of universal suffrage, the large, unconscious battalions form a bloc and crush the conscious minorities; proportional representation, on the contrary, allows the latter to express themselves.

In the economic sphere, interests come into contact, and all too often, only minorities participate in the movement. However, in this context, proportional representation would have the opposite effect to that which it can have in the political sphere: it would allow larger and more influential groups to paralyze conscious minorities and would thus be an instrument of reaction.

Moreover, this is not a gratuitous hypothesis; the fact has already occurred in England: the old unionism, offended by the tendencies of the new unionism which, from 1890 to 1895, risked imbuing the trade union organizations with new and revolutionary ideas, deemed it useful to stop the movement and it succeeded (in 1895, at the Cardiff congress) thanks to proportional representation.

Was such a danger to be feared in France? No. Indeed, even supposing that proportional representation had triumphed at the Bourges congress, the orientation of the General Confederation of Labor would not have changed one iota. Simple statistics demonstrate this. And if these statistics had been compiled in advance by the “reformists,” they would have understood the futility of their attempts and could have spared the congress the “boil” of proportional representation.

If we calculate the number of votes the federations would have on the committee, applying the proportionality indicated in the Book, we find that the committee would be composed of approximately 330 votes. If, subsequently, we establish the classification into “reformists” and “revolutionaries,” as it emerged from the congress votes, we find that 230 votes would go to the revolutionaries and about one hundred to the reformists.

This is exactly the same proportion — a little over two-thirds, against one-third — as has always emerged from the votes of Congress.

This statistic demonstrates how illusory the hopes cherished by the reformists were. It also demonstrates something else: it proves that they are mistaken when they claim that the General Confederation of Labour reflects a minority and that the large union battalions, which pay for and fund the confederation, have no say in the matter.

It is now undeniable that the revolutionary orientation of the Confederation is not a contrived phenomenon and that it is the result of the trade union push that is exerted from the periphery to the center.

The discussion on proportional representation

Given the considerable number of speakers wishing to express their opinions, the debates on this issue threatened to last longer than the congress itself. Therefore, it was decided from the outset to limit the number of speakers to ten, five “for” and five “against”.

The supporters of proportional representation agreed to choose: Maroux (Book, Marseille); Coupât* (Mechanics); Keufer (Book); Lucas (Employees); Guérard (Railways).

His opponents nominated: Vibert* (Naval Arsenal, Brest); Henriot* (Matchmakers); Niel (Montpellier); Luquet* (Hairdressers); Villeval (Proofreaders).

The arguments of the “for” speakers were very weak. Moreover, this lack of arguments had been noticeable well before the congress; in La Voix du Peuple a discussion had been started on this subject and, despite questions being asked requiring a precise answer from those who had proposed putting proportional representation on the agenda, they had remained silent.

Thus, it had been pointed out to them that it was not enough to simply declare in favor of the principle of proportional representation, but that it was necessary to explain how it would work… They had not responded! Similarly, they had neglected to explain themselves when it had been demonstrated to them that their system was flawed, since they limited themselves to proposing its application to the committee of federations and completely forgot the federal committee of the Bourses du Travail.

The defenders of proportional representation in Congress were hardly more explicit; they always confined themselves to vague generalities.

Maroux’s main argument was that it is inaccurate to consider federations as social units of equal value; some, he asserted, are more useful than others; therefore, the most useful ones should have a greater representation.

It was rightly pointed out to him that such a thesis opened the door to waste: if proportionality was to be established according to the greater or lesser social utility of the federations, this scale had to be established… And who was going to assess that? And how?… That’s what he forgot to say!

Keufer cites as an example the trade union organizations abroad; French groups should follow their example and, like them, practice proportional representation.

Lucas rejoices in the progress made by the idea of ​​proportional representation. His joy stems from a comparison of figures that he has accepted at face value, without examining whether they have ^[23] the significance he attributes to them. He is pleased that, at the Montpellier congress in 1902, proportional representation garnered seventy-four votes, whereas the previous year, at the Lyon congress, only twenty-six organizations had voted in favor of it… And he concludes that the progress will accelerate and that, after a few more congresses, this voting method will triumph.

This argument is worthless, despite its reliance on figures for their eloquence. Its inadequacy is all the more necessary to demonstrate since, from Bourges onward, it has been the comforting argument of those who support proportional representation. They recite these three figures with relish! And it suffices to examine the constituent elements of these three elements to see that the number of supporters of proportional representation has not increased. At the three congresses compared, it was always the same organizations that voted for proportional representation, and if the number of votes obtained increased, it was because the number of delegates from these organizations increased. In Lyon and Montpellier, its supporters were: the Railways, the Employees, the Book Trade, the Lithographers, the Mechanics, and the Tobacco Trade. In Bourges, it was again the same groups, albeit in greater numbers, that voted for proportional representation. Therefore, there is no real gain.

Another argument to note among proponents of proportional representation is the ambiguity they all sought to create by conflating it with the referendum, which was not the issue at hand. The referendum is a logical means of determining the prevailing opinion on a given question; no one opposes it. It is therefore truly specious to claim that rejecting the application of proportional representation within the Confederal Committee would create difficulties because it would be dangerous to launch a widespread movement—such as a general strike—without first holding a referendum.

Opponents of proportional representation dispelled this ambiguity. They also took care to establish as a principle that federations are social units of equal standing and that, within the confederation committee, they must be on an equal footing, regardless of the number of their members. Matchmakers, for example, do not number 2,000 throughout France, because no more are needed to meet consumption. Are they less useful than cooks, miners, or metalworkers, Henriot asked? Furthermore, shouldn’t proportional representation take into account that they have a greater union presence than many other trades, since 95% of them are union members?

The claim that only small organizations were opposed to proportional representation was refuted by Vibert: he declared that his federation (the workers of the Naval and State Arsenals), although one of the most important, was against proportional representation, and he added that federations such as those of the Lumberjacks and the Metallurgy, also opposed, were not negligible quantities.

With an abundance of argumentation that left no point in the shadows, Niel demolished proportional representation, proved its impossibility of application, and to those who advocate imitating the Anglo-Saxons, he replied that we are superior to them in tactics and that it would be desirable for them to take inspiration from what we do.

Luquet then pointed out that the proponents of proportional representation were in agreement with the government, which saw it as a way to curb the revolutionary fervor of the unions; indeed, a few months earlier, Minister Trouillot* had written to the Prefect of the Seine urging him to take measures to ensure that the administrative commission of the Paris Bourse du Travail (Labor Exchange) was appointed using the proportional representation system, in order to thwart the unionist activities of the Parisian unions. Luquet asked the comrades who had declared themselves in favor of proportional representation to be more discerning and not to follow the government’s lead.

This verbal sparring between supporters and opponents of proportional representation ended with Villeval clarifying the distinction between it and a referendum. The vote then took place, and of the 1208 unions participating, 825 voted against proportional representation and 379 in favor.

The eight-hour day

A fifteen-member commission was appointed with a mandate to examine the best course of action to achieve the eight-hour workday. The commission was faced with two tactics: waiting for the eight-hour workday to be mandated by law, or relying solely on union action, through agitation against employers and external pressure on public authorities.

By a vote of twelve to three, the commission voted in favor of this latter method, and on its behalf, its rapporteur, Comrade Dubéros*, asked the congress to mandate the General Confederation of Labor to begin a broad campaign of agitation, so that by May 1 ^, 1906, a strong movement would be created, leading workers to refuse to work more than eight hours a day from that date onward. To cover the costs of this campaign, in addition to voluntary contributions, the report recommended a fixed annual contribution of fifty centimes per one hundred union members.

Keufer contests the report’s conclusions; he would have preferred a phased approach rather than leaping headlong into demanding the eight-hour day. Guérard holds the opposite view. He approves of the proposed tactics, except that he does not believe violence is necessarily essential for successfully campaigning and mobilizing for the eight-hour day. What is needed, he argues, is widespread agitation through newspapers, pamphlets , posters, labels, and so on, so that at some point the “eight-hour” issue becomes an obsession. His only objection concerns the date: May 1, 1906 ^, seems too soon to him.

Pouget observes that, for the past fifteen years or so, there has been a theoretical campaign in favor of the eight-hour day, which now makes it possible to move to practical action and accept the date of May 1, 1906. He adds that by making a decision in this direction, the congress will be performing a revolutionary act, because the task of revolutionaries is not to attempt violent movements without regard for contingencies, but to prepare minds so that these movements erupt when favorable circumstances arise. Regarding direct action, he explains that it can be innocuous or revolutionary, depending on the needs. Direct action is when workers proclaim that they want to rely only on themselves, and not on a government.

I. In his major work, *Histoire du Premier Mai* (History of May Day), Maurice Dommanget provides a number of useful details about the pamphlets published on the subject by the CGT (General Confederation of Labour) or some of its federations: “A first confederation pamphlet […] was printed in one hundred and fifty thousand copies. It did not duplicate Louis Niel’s pamphlet on the eight-hour day… The building federation, for its part, published a special pamphlet with examples appropriate to the trade, with a print run of fifty thousand. A third confederation pamphlet followed, printed in twenty thousand copies, and another launched by the laundry federation will be distributed in six thousand copies.” (*Histoire du Premier Mai * [1953], *Le Mot et le Reste*, 2006, preface by Charles Jacquier, p. 275).

an external messiah to improve their conditions and march towards complete liberation.

With the objections cleared from the discussion, only one point remained undecided: would they vote on an additional contribution? Dubéros having indicated that the contributions proposed in the report should be considered more as a sign of approval of the agitation for the eight-hour day than as a resource to meet the needs of this propaganda, it was decided to stick to voluntary subscriptions and the following motion, supplementing the report, was enthusiastically adopted:

“The congress, considering that workers can only rely on their own action to improve their working conditions;

 “considering that an agitation for the eight-hour day is a step towards the ultimate work of complete emancipation; mandates the General Confederation of Labour to organize intense and growing agitation to ensure that, On May 1 ^, 1906, workers voluntarily stopped working more than eight hours.

 “The confederation committee will appoint a special commission and collect voluntary subscriptions to cover the costs of this propaganda.”

Proportional representation had been the negative aspect of the congress, clearing the way of all the obstacles to moderation. The decision concerning the eight-hour workday is its positive aspect: it draws inspiration from the methods of action of revolutionary syndicalists, and it clearly indicates to workers that the improvements they wrest from capitalism will be proportionate to the effort they are capable of making, to their level of awareness and perseverance in action.

Whatever the actual results of this agitation, there is no need to anticipate the disappointments that have often resulted from promises made lightly by the old parties, or from movements that were recklessly prepared and that relied too heavily on an authoritarian or more or less centralist approach.

Trade unionists don’t tell the working class, “We’ll give you the eight-hour day!”… They tell them, ”  Have the strength to impose your will on employers and you will have a say in setting working conditions. And your intervention will be all the more effective the stronger you are. The eight-hour day will be like everything else: you’ll get it when you refuse to work more…”

Setting a specific date is obviously arbitrary; but its choice simply indicates that an agreement will be reached so that, from that day forward, a collective push will take place, in order to increase the chances of success of the movement.

The label

During the past year, after initially accepting a label bearing the confederation’s monogram, the Book Federation reversed its decision and issued a purely corporate union label. This led to discussions within the federations’ committee. The Book Federation decided to bring the matter before the congress, posing the question: “Should the label be corporate or confederate?” On this point, as on other issues, most of the delegates had already made up their minds, their organization having given them a specific mandate. Consequently, the discussion was brief.

Supporters of the confederation label argued that if the union brand did not contain a common distinctive sign — in this case, the confederation world map — there would be inextricable confusion; with each corporation publishing a particular label, workers would not be able to recognize each other in the quantity.

The delegates from the Book trade, defenders of the corporate label, explained that only those concerned are able to know in what form the trade union brand should be created and that it is useful for it to fall solely under the trade union, in order to be able to legally defend the label against the disloyalty of bosses who would like to use it, without respecting the trade union conditions.

By a large majority, the congress voted in favor of the confederation label. As a result, each federation has complete freedom to design its label as it sees fit; it is only required to include the symbol of solidarity, which is the confederation’s world map.

This decision was the final act of the congress. Next, various minor proposals, on which agreement was easily reached, were adopted by acclamation. Then, after the city of Amiens had been chosen by lot to host the next congress, the workers’ assembly in Bourges concluded with cries of: Long live the social revolution!

Is it necessary to conclude? The Bourges congress was, if I may say so, a slice of working-class life, and life has no conclusions: it continues and unfolds, facts following facts, without ever stopping.

The lessons learned from the congress have already been noted in this overly long study; to dwell on them further would be to repeat myself. I will therefore limit myself to emphasizing, once again, the growing ascent of the proletariat towards ever greater awareness and zeal for the struggle: the two previous congresses—Lyon and Montpellier—and the recent one—Bourges—indicate a steady progression that will only continue to rise.

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The conquest of the eight-hour day

(The Socialist Movement, No. 151, March 15, 1905)

The resolution of the Bourges corporate congress

The resolution of the corporate congress held in Bourges last September — a resolution concerning the conquest of the eight-hour day — has disconcerted many minds, who are not very aware of the considerable work that has been accomplished in recent years within the workers’ unions.

The question was on the agenda. But those not intimately involved in union life could not imagine that the problem was ripe enough to be resolved quickly, without lengthy discussions and debates. Yet that is precisely what happened. The discussion was short and swift, and the resolution that resulted from this brief debate was merely the culmination of internal propaganda.

A fifteen-member commission was appointed—less to study the question than to refine it and clarify the practical aspects of propaganda for its implementation. Consequently, its report was concise, focusing solely on tactics.

“Two methods of action,” the report stated, “were recommended within the commission:

 “One, tending to request that the congress draw up a bill, which would be transmitted to the public authorities by the confederal committee, and to organize petitions and public meetings, to demonstrate to the legislators that this reform is demanded by the vast majority of workers.

“The other, tending to keep away from public authorities, to exert all possible pressure on our adversaries, to strike them with all the means at our disposal.

 “The commission voted, unanimously minus three votes, in favour of this latter method; it considers that the errors of the past have lasted long enough, and that platonic action must be succeeded by more effective action capable of bringing our demands to fruition.

 “Indeed, since 1889, every year on May ^1st , petitions in favor of the eight-hour day are renewed; every year, workers’ delegations submit their demands to the prefects, who then forward them to the public authorities.

“Every year, we organize platonic May Day events ^. “

 “And none of these petitions, none of these demands, have ever been taken into consideration.”

 “The same experiment was done for employment agencies; the league which had been formed with the aim of pursuing the suppression of these agencies, and which had some power, organized vast petitions; for many years, delegations were periodically sent to the public authorities; these delegations were received very cordially; our rulers assured them that they would deal kindly with their demands.

“On several occasions, the question of the abolition of employment offices was placed on the agenda of the Chamber of Deputies and the Senate, and each time, before the opening of the sessions of these assemblies, large demonstrations were organized to show the legislators that almost all workers were demanding this reform.

“And again, the bills aimed at abolishing employment offices were rejected, and at the same time, the workers’ agitation came to an end; for the workers, too confident in the goodwill of the government, considered that their agitation no longer had any impact.

“It was only when the workers acted on their own that they obtained satisfaction.”

“Indeed, if the last campaign resulted in the abolition of employment offices, it was because the movement undertaken was becoming dangerous.

 “Every day, employment offices were demolished, anonymous violence was perpetrated against the placement agents; a considerable number of shops suffered damage; there were numerous fights between the police and the workers; Paris was under siege, and it was to calm this unrest that Parliament passed a bill giving municipalities the power to abolish employment offices.

“Therefore, it was through revolutionary action that the abolition of employment offices was achieved, and we believe that the demand for an eight-hour day will only succeed through this means.”

” […] It is a question of organizing, for the achievement of the eight-hour day, a similar movement, which will be of much greater importance, given that all workers will be interested in it and all will have to take part in it.

“[…] The commission asks the congress that large demonstrations be organized throughout France for May 1, ¹⁹⁰⁵ , and that afterwards an active propaganda, of education, be undertaken by the committee and the propaganda subcommittees to prepare minds, so that on May 1, ¹⁹⁰⁶ no worker will agree to work more than eight hours a day, nor to a wage lower than the minimum established by the organizations concerned.

 “The commission asks the congress to clearly state that from May 1, ¹⁹⁰⁶ the movement must be directed exclusively against employers who refuse the eight-hour day.

 “But to carry out the first stage of our movement, a considerable effort is needed, and not the least important task will be to educate all our fellow workers, to make them aware of their interests, to prepare them to provide the maximum agitation.

“And in order for the workers to generate maximum agitation, they must be convinced that they should not rely on legislators, but on themselves to achieve their demands…”

I will not dwell on the discussion that this report engendered on the organisation of the movement for the conquest of the mid-hours, having given the analysis here previously ^1. If I have insisted on making a long quotation from the report, it is because, while specifying the tactics, it clearly reflects the state of mind of the congress.

As I have said, and it is necessary to insist on this point, the resolution setting May ^1, 1906 as the act of will to be carried out by the workers to wrest the eight-hour day from their bosses appeared, outside working-class circles, to have been taken inconsiderately and without reflection.

Those who judged in this way experienced, upon hearing of this resolution, the astonishment that grips witnesses of revolutionary events whose precursors they do not know: they see a movement erupt and, because they are unaware of the prior and subterranean work that made this explosion possible, because they do not perceive its causes, they are inclined to suppose that no preparatory work is not accomplished. They might almost imagine themselves enjoying the miraculous spectacle of effects without cause!

I. The Socialist Movement, No. 142. [nda] This is the text reproduced in the previous chapter (“The debates of the congress”).

It was especially in parliamentary circles, wherever there is a tendency to consider Parliament the center of the universe, that this astonishment was expressed. By comparison, it was surmised that a workers’ congress is a miniature parliament and that votes are cast there using identical methods. Perhaps it was also assumed that a congress lacks as much mental fortitude as an assembly of voters, where fickleness is unfathomable and where the most opposing speakers are alternately praised or condemned.

It is regrettable that those who hold such an opinion of a corporate congress were unable to attend the Bourges congress. They would have seen how little effect the rhetoric of election rallies has in an assembly of this kind. One of the most brilliant election orators, recently brought to the forefront by a campaign, was a delegate to the congress; he spoke at length and eloquently! But his speech, which elsewhere would have elicited unanimous applause, left the assembly unmoved.

The thing is, in such workers’ congresses, what is wanted is not flowery rhetoric, brilliant and bombastic phrases, but solid and well-structured argumentation.

Furthermore, the fact that the discussion about the eight-hour day in Bouges did not lead to a grand oratorical contest suggests that the decision was made in a moment of panic. This decision was merely the culmination of three years of preliminary propaganda, and it came as a surprise only to those unfamiliar with the labor movement.

Preliminary propaganda

Already at the trade union congress held in Lyon in 1901, the question arose of what action to take to achieve the eight-hour workday. The initiative came from the Lyon mechanics’ union, which had requested that the issue be placed on the agenda. The action plan they presented was based on the same ideas and tactics as the one that prevailed the previous year at the Bourges congress.

However, this proposal was premature. It garnered little attention at the congress, and as a sanction, at the request of Comrade Brut, delegate of the Mechanics, it was decided to place on the agenda of the next congress: “The eight-hour day and immediate action.” This decision was supplemented by a motion from Comrade Latapie, worded as follows:

The delegates to Congress should take inspiration from what has been done in the United States, to demand, on May Day, the eight-hour day through direct action: unemployment and demonstrations in the street.

Prior to the Lyon congress, La Voix du Peuple, the organ of the General Confederation of Labour, had, in an issue published on the occasion of May 1, ¹⁹⁰¹ , extensively described the campaign of agitation pursued by American workers in 1885-1886.

It is worthwhile to quote a few passages from this issue; they will be the best proof that the campaign undertaken today has had three years of gestation:

“It was in 1884, in the United States, that the idea of ​​demonstrating on May Day materialized, and the date determined to be the first of the planned grand demonstrations was May 1, 1886 .

 “It was among the people, in the heart of the workers’ unions, that this concept germinated which, later, in Europe, politicians channeled for their own benefit.

 “The origin of the May Day demonstration, it cannot be stressed enough! — was absolutely syndicalist: it was in the corporate groups, these centers of popular vitality, that it was first discussed and it was on the economic field, outside of any political tendency, that its initiators resolved to act.

“It was after a series of disappointments in the reforms demanded of the government, after having asked the authorities in vain for a reduction in the working day, that, disillusioned, the American labor unions resolved to rely solely on their own energy to obtain improvements. It was through direct action against the employers, through a mass mobilization of workers on a date chosen in advance—May 1, ¹⁸⁸⁶ —that they attempted to impose the practice of the eight-hour day on the exploiters.”

 “[…] In November and December 1885, two congresses were held almost simultaneously, that of the Knights of Labor ^[24] and that of the Federation of Trade Union Chambers. It was decided there to redouble propaganda and efforts to obtain the eight-hour day and, in order to give more precision and vigor to the movement, it was agreed that on May 1, ¹⁸⁸⁶ the workers would impose on their employers the application of the eight-hour day.

“From that date onward, the workday should not exceed eight hours: workers would arrive at work at eight o’clock in the morning and leave at five o’clock in the evening. It was also declared that, in all industries and workshops that refused to implement the eight-hour day, work would be suspended until acceptance.”

 “Then a gigantic and incessant propaganda campaign was organized which continued, without interruption, until May 1, ¹⁸⁸⁶ .

 “Everywhere, the propaganda intensified. Meetings followed meetings and all the motions, frenetically acclaimed, concluded in favor of the eight-hour day from May 1, ^1886. Demonstrations and open-air processions, with all the noisy fanfare typical in the United States, were organized and everywhere there were cheers in favor of the eight hours.

“Thousands and thousands of manifestos, placards, leaflets, posters of all kinds, written in English, German, Dutch, Polish, Czech, Swedish, etc., were distributed in abundance and all repeated, in various forms, that on May 1, ¹⁸⁸⁶ all workers should impose on their bosses the implementation of the eight-hour day.

“The trade associations redoubled their efforts and all their corporate newspapers were full of appeals in favor of the eight-hour day and May Day , and all voted on resolutions, the spirit of which is given below by the Carpenters and Cabinetmakers’ Union:”

 “Starting May 3rd, the eight-hour day will become the normal workday; all bosses and entrepreneurs will be notified of this decision by printed letter;

“Starting May 3rd, no member of the Carpenters and Cabinetmakers’ Union will agree to work in a shop where the eight-hour day is not enforced, nor will they undertake any work with a carpenter or cabinetmaker who is not a union member.”

The Voice of the People then continued, taking stock of this colossal upheaval:

Even before May ^1, 1886, during April, many employers, taking the initiative, agreed to implement the eight-hour day; it is estimated that, as a result, 32,000 workers benefited from the reduction in working hours.

After May ^1st , the number of workers who had won the eight-hour day exceeded 200,000, not counting certain corporations (such as butchers, bakers, brewers in Chicago) where they toiled for fourteen and sixteen hours and who obtained the ten-hour day and notable wage increases.

Then, after recalling the horrific tragedy in Chicago and the judicial crime that followed ^, La Voix du Peuple concluded:

“Let’s imitate the Americans!”

 “The tactic that allowed them to quickly achieve the eight-hour day in 1886 is still excellent; it is even the only effective one. It consists of wanting to, and of acting!”

 “Let’s want it! Let’s act!”

 “For eleven years, we exhausted ourselves in the shifting terrain of politics and reaped only disappointments. It is no exaggeration to say that if we had applied the same vigor to the economic sphere, we would not have suffered the disillusionment we now endure.”

 “What we have neglected to do, it is our duty, it is in our interest to undertake.”

 “The workers of the United States have shown us the way, let us follow in their footsteps.”

 Let us unite our actions! May May Day no longer hold for us the inconsistent characteristics that have robbed it of all meaning. May one single objective prevail on this day: the conquest of the eight-hour workday!

I. For the events of May 1886 in Chicago, see the entry on August Spies* in the glossary, below, p. 286.

 “Certainly, the eight-hour day is not an ideal. It’s a step! Let’s take it.”

 “It is necessary never to lose sight of the fact that the goal of workers’ action is complete emancipation; but it is also essential not to be indifferent to the present and to always strive to improve our current conditions of existence.

 “Among the reforms that can be implemented immediately, the eight-hour day is one of the best.”

 “Let’s march to conquer it! Let’s not wait for the rulers to grant it to us.”

 “When the Americans wanted to work no more than eight hours a day, they set May 1, 1886 as the date ^on which this reform should be applied and they firmly promised not to work more than eight hours from that day on.

 “Let’s follow their example!”

 “Let us set a date and proclaim that from the day we have chosen, for nothing in the world will we consent to work more than eight hours.

 “But what we must understand is that once the date is chosen, we will need to deploy tireless and considerable energy to popularize our concept…” These arguments, drawn from the example of American agitation, bore fruit: they were taken up, reproduced, and commented on in corporate circles, and thus the current of opinion that led to the resolution taken at the Bourges congress was created and grew – slowly and surely.

This decision was therefore not a surprise vote; it was the logical outcome of three years of intellectual gestation; there was a natural chain of cause and effect and the decision came at the right time, as normally as a ripe fruit detaches from the branch.

The origins of the eight-hour movement

Thus, it was among the workers of the United States that French trade unionists found the lesson in tactics that inspired the current movement.

This tactic, they had learned from their country of origin: Great Britain. It was, in fact, on English soil that the eight-hour day movement began. Its first manifestations date back to the great revolutionary period of trade unionism, from 1830 to 1840. At that time, under the influence of Robert Owen’s ideas*, the trade unions attempted a general strike to achieve the eight-hour day. They did not rely on legislation to obtain satisfaction, but solely on their own strength. It was, they said, up to the workers themselves to pass a bill for the reduction of working hours.

The movement did not spread to the entire working class: the cotton workers were the most actively involved; conversely, skilled printing workers and mechanics remained completely aloof, not participating in the general unrest. A date had been set: March ¹ , 1834. On that date, under threat of a general strike, workers were to demand a reduction of the working day to eight hours, without a decrease in wages. The action was premature. It failed.

These early trade unionists had broad visions for the future; they pursued a social transformation through revolutionary means. The bourgeoisie succeeded in crushing this movement through furious persecution, and since then, trade unionism has found a comfortable foothold: Owenite aspirations were diverted towards the cooperative movement or stifled by the new unionism.

which transformed the initial revolutionary grouping into mutual societies whose only ideal was to have a large cash reserve.

It was in the newly established countries of British emigration—Australia and the United States—where fighters from the heroic period likely sought refuge, that the movement for the eight-hour day was most vigorously amplified. But there, social conditions being different, the general ideas disappeared, and only the concrete desire to achieve the eight-hour day remained; instead of being, as in the Owenite uprising, the prelude to revolutionary action, the reduction of working hours became the goal.

As early as 1848, in New Zealand, workers in a colonization company imposed the eight-hour day. In 1855, in Sydney, construction workers demanded it in turn, and the following year the movement spread, and at a large meeting held in Melbourne, it was decided that, henceforth, the working day would not exceed eight hours.

Since then, every year, April 21st is celebrated with great pomp, in honor of the eight-hour day, which, there, was won through the direct action of the unions, without any intervention from the law.

In the United States, except in the state of Massachusetts where unrest for the eight-hour day had previously occurred, this movement only appeared after the abolition of black slavery; in August 1866, a workers’ congress, held in Baltimore, demanded the promulgation of a law setting the maximum working hours at eight hours.

The unrest continued and intensified; but, until around 1880, the main objective was legal intervention. It was only at this time that the tactics changed: it was recognized that hoping for legislation alone was to invite further disappointments; a national eight-hour committee was organized, and it was recognized that it was up to the workers themselves to impose, through their own efforts, the reduction of working hours to eight.

This national committee carried out the preliminary propaganda which led – as indicated above – to the fixing of May 1, ¹⁸⁸⁶ as the starting point for the application of the eight-hour day ¹ .

As can be seen, the tactic outlined in 1833 in England by revolutionary trade unionism has borne fruit; practiced in Australia and the United States, it has yielded results.

The influence of this tactic had repercussions in Europe when, in 1889, at the International Socialist Congress held in Paris II (rue Rochechouart), the question arose of organizing a large annual demonstration. On the proposal of an American delegate, May ^1st was chosen as the date .

The platform for these demonstrations was supposed to be—as in the United States—the eight-hour day. However, at that time, European workers were too preoccupied with parliamentary activity and their reliance on legal intervention. The trade union movement was still intertwined with the political movement; the unions had not yet freed themselves from the control of the socialist parties, whose aversion to economic action was almost as great as their hope for seizing power. So, lacking experience, the May Day demonstrations, of which

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I. For more details, see the chapter “Agitation for the eight-hour day and the birth of May Day ⁱⁿ America” ​​in Maurice Dommanget’s book, Histoire du Premier Mai (op. cit., pp. 49-74). It was a certain Gabriel Edmonston who submitted a resolution to the 4th ^Congress of the AFL (American Federation of Labor), held in Chicago in 1884, stating that labor organizations would do everything possible to achieve, starting on May 1, ¹⁸⁸⁶ , the promulgation of the eight-hour day.

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II. In fact, two socialist workers’ congresses took place in Paris around July 14, 1889, one on rue de Lancry, organized by the Possibilists, and the other at the Salle Pétrelle (at number 24 on the street of the same name), organized by Vaillant’s Blanquist faction, the Guesdists, and the National Federation of Trade Unions. However, as the latter hall could not accommodate the numerous congress attendees, they moved to the Scottish Rite meeting room on rue Rochechouart. For further information, see Maurice Dommanget’s book cited above, in particular his chapter entitled “May 1st ^at the International Socialist Congress of 1889″ (ibid., pp. 129-148).

The essentially economic origins are undeniable, but they underwent a diversion and became demonstrations of a more political nature. Consequently, the traditional march to public authorities, the futility of which eventually became apparent, stripped this demonstration, despite its revolutionary and economic origins, of all significance.

Response to some objections

The resolution of the Bourges congress revived the revolutionary tradition: the French working class was called upon to impose its own ”  bill  ” for the eight-hour day.

What will be the results of the action undertaken?

The tardigrades, those who find action premature – as they tend to find anything that requires effort and disturbs the usual routine inopportune – are not, deep down, too upset by the congress’s decision.

Oh! It’s not that they expect happy results from it. On the contrary! They anticipate that the movement will be a failure and that, following the disappointments brought about by this failure, the weary, discouraged working class will once again fall asleep on the soft pillow of interventionism! They surmise that the workers—forever disgusted with direct action—will become enamored with all the swings of “social peace”: mutualism, arbitration, joint commissions, etc.

This pessimistic reasoning is not a sign of open-mindedness on the part of those who indulge in it; indeed, it must not be forgotten that those who, in their hearts, hold this view to themselves, participate in union activities, are workers, and, consequently, have a vested interest in the success of this movement. But, obsessed and paralyzed by their particularist conceptions, they fear that overly specific results will stem from this agitation, bringing new vigor to the revolutionary and self-emancipatory current sweeping through the working class.

This pessimistic reasoning is not only a sign of narrow-mindedness; it is also proof that, in the minds of those who hold it, the problem has been incorrectly framed:

They infer that the General Confederation of Labour could, with the eight-hour movement, run into a failure of the kind experienced by the national union of railway workers when, in 1898, it wrongly believed itself ready for the general strike of the corporation.

There is no point in comparing them, as there is no similarity between the two actions:

In 1898, the National Railway Union was protected by the decision of its congress. The question of a general strike had been raised several times, and finally, an overwhelming majority mandated the union council to call it, leaving it to choose the opportune moment. It was then, in preparing the movement, that the union erred through excessive centralization. It must be said, in its defense, that this excessive centralization is an inherent drawback of its structure, which is “national” and not “federalist.” The signal for the strike had to come from the central government, and the local branches awaited it all the more because, having very little autonomy in their union activities, they had little inclination to take initiative. It was therefore sufficient, to hinder the movement, to prevent the signal from reaching the periphery from the central government. This is precisely what the government failed to do.

Half an hour after the strike was declared by the committee, while it was still keeping it secret and preparing to transmit it to its sections, this decision was known to the Ministry of the Interior, which, better equipped than the Railway Union, in an hour and a half, had the order telegraphed to all the post offices in France to intercept correspondence addressed to railway employees.

The difficulties that the national railway union then faced will inevitably recur in any action having a conspiratorial or centralizing character.

The eight-hour movement has no reason to fear these difficulties; it is not a movement affecting secretive and conspiratorial behavior, nor does it have any of the flaws of centralization.

What distinguishes and characterizes it is that the order for workers to march will not come from above, from a central authority. They must find the awareness and initiative for action within themselves. And this is precisely what makes the eight-hour movement so great: the decentralizing propaganda campaign that prepares it is a true exercise of willpower.

The resolution of the Bourges congress does not tell the workers: “The General Confederation of Labor will give us the eight-hour day…”; it says even less: “The eight hours will be handed to you on a silver platter on May 1 ^, 1906…” This resolution tells the workers: “It is entirely up to you to intervene in setting the conditions of work; it is a matter of wanting it. So want it, and you will be able to! And the result you obtain will be proportionate to the force you deploy…” And the resolution adds: “We thought it best to set a date for ourselves, and for you, for May 1, ^1906. If, on that date, you are there, and if the matter is agreeable to you, from that day forward we will not work more than eight hours…”

That, quite simply, is what this resolution says.

So, in order for there to be disappointment and bankruptcy for the organized working class — for the General Confederation of Labour, in a word — what would it take?

That the militant elite who themselves set the date for May 1st, ¹⁹⁰⁶ , should completely fail to honor their commitments. That, until then, they should remain dormant, do nothing, lack initiative, and, through a lack of propaganda, let the decision of the Bourges congress be ignored.

Only under this condition could there be disappointment and failure for workers’ organizations. It goes without saying that this alternative should not even be considered. The General Confederation of Labour has launched the movement, and the campaign of agitation continues with increasing intensity, which is a promising sign.

The first act of this propaganda was the sending of a Questionnaire, by the confederal committee, to the corporatist federations and Bourses du travail, then to the trade unions, to ask them in what form each would participate in the agitation and what financial means they would make available to the General Confederation of Labour for the overall propaganda.

This questionnaire was the essential first step. Since the congress had entrusted the General Confederation of Labour with the task of raising the necessary funds for propaganda through voluntary subscriptions, it was absolutely necessary to raise the question of participation in trade union organizations.

Well, there are minds so disturbed by political maneuvering that some have claimed this Questionnaire violated the decision of the Bourges Congress. Even on this occasion, they have revealed how their authoritarian views render them incapable of understanding the mechanics of the eight-hour agitation. Propaganda is not only useful at the central pivot, from where it radiates, a benevolent light, to the periphery. It is indispensable everywhere!

I. This argument is so absurd as to be unbelievable. Here, then, as proof, is what one of these critics wrote: “What did the comrades of the Confederal Committee do? They simply overturned the decision of the Bourges congress and decided, thus carrying out a coup d’état, that is to say, bypassing the sovereign vote of the congress, to appeal to the workers’ organizations by referendum…” [nda]

It was necessary to call upon the federations, the Bourses, the unions, the individuals to action and, had there not been the financial question which justified the sending of the Questionnaire, it would have been legitimized by the need to grasp the working class, as a whole, of the action which it is invited to live.

Certainly, one could argue that these critics grasped the full implications of this Questionnaire, but that their protest was driven by Machiavellianism. This Questionnaire is a document that will later reveal which corporations and organizations marched for the eight-hour campaign. And then those who did nothing—or who, by hindering the movement, did more than nothing—will be in no position to criticize those who dedicated themselves to the cause.

There is another kind of criticism: that which consists of distorting the movement in order to alienate timid workers from its influence, by frightening them through exaggerated dangers related to their participation in the unrest. The refrain is repeated: “You want to hold a general strike, a social revolution on May 1st, 1906…”

It is an illustrious dead man who will answer these quibbles. This same accusation was levelled against Auguste Spies and his friends by the Chicago magistrates, who accused these activists of having planned to organize a social revolution, a general strike, for May 1, ^1886. Coming from lawyers who wanted to eliminate, by the gallows, men of conviction who posed a threat to capitalism, this insanity was understandable…

Once the death sentence was pronounced, Spies eloquently refuted it with the serenity he maintained until the end:

“I may have said that the workers must arm themselves… But there’s a long way to go from that to announcing that May 4, 1886, would mark the beginning of a social revolution. And let me say it here. You don’t make a revolution any more than you make a cyclone or an earthquake. You can prepare the causes and conditions through which, indeed, general unrest will spread. You don’t stage a revolution like a play. I’ve studied social philosophy long enough for ten years to spare me such nonsense…”

I have nothing to add. Spies’ words are perfectly apt. It is only regrettable that, uttered to denounce infamous judges, they can now be applied to workers.

As Spies proclaimed: one can prepare the causes and conditions through which general unrest will spread. This we do, with all the fervor of our convictions and temperaments. As for marking the course of events and predicting what tomorrow holds, that is beyond our power. We simply act, knowing that action begets action; knowing also that the repercussions will be all the greater and more profound the more rigorous our impulse has been.

On the practical question of the eight-hour day, we say: “If the workers wish, they can meet on May ^1st, 1906, and agree that from that day forward they will work a maximum of only eight hours; and, to do so, they will only have to leave the employer’s prison once they have completed their eight daily hours.”

It is quite clear that putting this workers’ will into practice will give rise to conflicts.

What will they be like? Only time will tell!

In any case, since the conquest of the eight-hour day is not for us an ideal, but a step in the work of complete emancipation, it follows that we are right to formulate our aspirations in their full scope. It is therefore natural that we proclaim that nothing definitive will be won by the working class until, through the expropriating general strike, it has shattered capitalist society.

The eight-hour platform

I believe I have indicated, with sufficient clarity, the form and failure of the agitation for the eight hours; it remains to examine what its scope will be.

First, let us dispel this ridiculous illusion, put into circulation by simplistic minds, if not by bourgeois, which consists of concluding that the movement will have as an immediate consequence the standardization of working hours to eight hours per day.

If human needs were met solely through the functioning of industrial production—mines, large factories, etc.—it would be conceivable: the workday could be standardized at eight hours. But society isn’t solely composed of large-scale industry: there are artisans, and there are also farmers. The latter, if a winegrower, for example, works only six or seven hours a day for a good part of the year. Are we going to increase the length of their daily labor under the pretext of an “eight-hour day”? That would be absurd!

It is important to understand that the phrase “conquering the eight-hour day” does not have a narrow and rigidly concrete meaning; it is a platform for action that expands to encompass all working conditions.

The “eight-hour day” is, so to speak, a catchphrase that will allow workers to easily agree on a collective action. This action will consist of wresting as much as possible from employers, and depending on the sector and the trade, the pressure for demands may intensify on one or another specific aspect of working conditions. All of this will be subordinate to the interests of the workers in conflict.

Thus, for food workers, for hairdressers, etc., still so harshly enslaved today, the effort is concentrated, momentarily — without thereby relegating the demand for the eight hours — on the conquest of weekly rest, and the confederation’s eight-hour commission is participating in this agitation, indicated moreover in the resolution of the Bourges congress.

On the other hand, it is quite clear that the winegrowers of the South will not demand an eight-hour workday, which, in many areas, under normal circumstances (that is, for manual labor), does not exceed six or seven hours of actual work. But what these workers will demand is that, during the grape harvest, they work only eight hours, instead of the nine hours or more of arduous labor they are currently required to perform. They will also stipulate conditions, in addition to those concerning working hours, for both day laborers and farmhands.

One of the characteristics of this movement—a characteristic whose value cannot be ignored—will be, in fact, to unite the actions of industrial workers with those of agricultural workers. This is a considerable phenomenon whose impact on the social movement cannot yet be fully measured. What can be said is that this convergence of proletarian forces, which until now had remained largely isolated, is one of the most significant revolutionary symptoms of recent years.

Besides the winegrowers, the lumberjacks also joined the movement. And they, quite rightly, would have cause to demand an eight-hour workday.

One of the most active militants of this corporation, Comrade Monot*, president of the Lumberjacks’ Union of La Guerche (Cher), examining under what conditions the participation of lumberjacks in the eight-hour movement could be manifested, wrote in recent years:

“As for the work in the woods, part of the winter the days are short, we do not work more than eight hours, and if, when April arrives, the woodcutter is happy to lengthen the day a little to increase the meager budget a little, we can still only work eight hours, we will only have to increase the price of the work a little and put it in relation to the work that a woodcutter can provide in eight hours.

 “But we must not forget that all unionized loggers are also agricultural workers, and that’s where the difficult question arises…”

 “In La Guerche, the workday begins at three in the morning, and the worker who goes to work far away hardly ever returns home before ten in the evening; you have to deduct three-quarters of an hour for lunch, two hours at noon, half an hour at four o’clock, which makes three and a quarter hours of rest and meals – which are only ratatouilles – out of nineteen hours, therefore nearly sixteen hours of work or walking…

 “What a relief, comrades, an eight-hour day would be for us!”

And he added:

“We must eliminate the harvesting companies, which are the cause of much division, because it’s always the same people who do the work. We should also, in my opinion, not thresh at any other time than on time, which would have the effect of restoring harmony among comrades…”

I wanted to reproduce the lines above because they indicate — better than any reasoning — that the formula “eight-hour day” is understood and accepted as a maxim briefly synthesizing fragmentary and diverse demands.

It is a war machine, a kind of catapult launched against the bloc of capitalist privileges which, by gradually eroding them, will reduce their compressive power; but without ever, as long as the slightest vestige of privilege remains standing, the proletariat assuming that it has achieved social justice.

And if a date was set — which is May 1, ¹⁹⁰⁶ , and which could just as easily have been another — it was because there was no other practical way to give oneself an appointment and to give it at the same time to the masses.

This date-setting is a tactical act akin to the “Ah!… Hiss!…” chanted in unison by workers toiling to move a heavy mass. Through this synchronicity, they manage to achieve maximum results from their combined efforts. Why should what is excellent in the physical realm be bad when transposed to the social realm? Reason fails to grasp this.

As for the choice of the date for the meeting, it is obviously contingent on the mindset of those who take the initiative. This is what happened with the setting of May 1, ^1906. The delegates to the Bourges congress considered that the theoretical propaganda in favor of the eight-hour day, carried out over the past fifteen years among the French working class, was sufficient to allow them to consider putting it into practice. They set the meeting for May 1, ¹⁹⁰⁶ , because they felt it was necessary to choose a date far enough in the future to allow the unrest to develop with all the necessary intensity—and also because this date had to be close enough so that its distance would not encourage them to postpone the necessary propaganda effort.

However, there is one point I have already emphasized and on which I feel I cannot stress enough: the Bourges congress may have set the date for May 1st, ¹⁹⁰⁶ , but workers must not rest on this decision and refrain from propaganda and action. The results achieved on May ^1st, 1906, will be proportionate to the effort expended and the force deployed. If these results are not as considerable as would be desirable, those who might complain will only have cause for reproach after themselves, because they will have lacked initiative, temperament, and audacity. Moreover, in that case, there would be no reason to despair, to lose heart, or to throw in the towel; on the contrary, there would be a need to redouble efforts to achieve a new push forward. The necessity of this

Continuity of action, as clearly indicated in the report presented at the Bourges congress:

The commission, it is said, asks the congress to clearly state that from May 1, ¹⁹⁰⁶ the movement must be directed exclusively against employers who refuse the eight-hour day.

But to carry out the first stage of our movement, a considerable effort is needed, and not the least important task will be to educate all our fellow workers, to make them aware of their interests, to prepare them to provide the maximum amount of agitation…

So, this is clear: we do not only have to propagate between now and May 1, ¹⁹⁰⁶ , and then rest on our laurels; the next day, as the day before, the struggle must continue, ardent, passionate, and this, whatever the results obtained!

I wanted to consider the pessimistic hypothesis of the least result – because all the probabilities of a movement must be examined – however, as the agitation already appears for the eight hours, everything suggests that this pessimistic hypothesis will not be realized.

An internal propaganda campaign is underway, growing daily, not only in major cities but also in small towns. Importantly, this activity represents an increase, not a mere shift, of effort. Instead of simply redirecting energy from other activities onto the eight-hour day movement, more energy and initiative are being deployed, resulting in increased agitation and a strengthening of revolutionary fervor.

The agitation surrounding the eight-hour shift does not relegate any propaganda to the background; it grafts itself onto all actions undertaken, so that, far from hindering any movement, it adds its own ferment. Thus understood and practiced, this agitation is a ferment, a multiplying element of action.

On the other hand, the eight-hour movement is so strong that it is even drawing in those resistant to the union action tactics of which it is a manifestation. Thus, the Book Workers’ Federation has placed the question of reducing working hours on the agenda of its next congress. Certainly, it is quite clear that this organization did not wait for the Bourges congress to study this problem; however, one can infer a certain correlation between this fact and the decision of the Bourges congress, if only the desire to contrast the “practical” action tactics of the Book Workers’ Federation with the revolutionary tactics of the Confederation.

Isn’t this kind of emulation proof of the forward momentum being exerted on the Book Federation?… In any case, it is a symptom, and others will follow, highlighting the powerful impact of the movement to conquer the eight hours.

Indeed, there’s nothing like forging ahead to encourage the hesitant to join them. Let us therefore have faith and redouble our efforts; the May 1st, 1906 deadline ^cannot lead us to “bankruptcy.” If some workers, through sheer recklessness, fail to meet this deadline, so much the worse for them! They will be the first victims of their pusillanimity.

As for the activists, no blame can be placed on them as long as they can respond: “We acted!”

Let us act! Let us act without truce or respite!

Whatever happens, the eight-hour movement will bear fruit. The physical principle, “Nothing is created, nothing is destroyed,” will be proven true. The effort made will not be wasted. Action always begets action.

The working class will have gained from this propaganda exercise, in addition to material conquests — proportional to the sum of strength and will expended by it — a clearer awareness of the revolutionary work to be continued, in order to achieve definitive liberation.

---

III. The results of the May Day movement

(The Socialist Movement, No. 176, July 1906)

The period of unrest surrounding the eight-hour day, which materialized in the May Day protests of 1906, is drawing to a close. The working class is experiencing the relative calm that always follows a violent and prolonged struggle. It is therefore time to take stock of the movement initiated by the resolution of the Bourges Congress.

Questions arise that need to be answered: what results has the working class achieved from this agitation? Do the profits compensate for the losses? Or, as those who viewed this agitation with suspicion expected, has the tactic of direct action “failed”?

To all these pressing questions, I will strive to give the answer that emerges from the events.

First, I would ask the readers of the Socialist Movement to refer to the study that I published in this journal in the issue of March 25, 1905. There has been, on certain sides, such a bias towards distorting the movement that this reminder is necessary, in order to realize that the conclusions that I will be led to make are indeed in accordance with the premises that I developed eighteen months ago.

It must be remembered that, at no point did trade union activists naively entertain the illusion that the eight-hour day would be a fait accompli across all sectors by May 1, ^1906. They expected results: reductions in working hours, wage increases, improvements in various working conditions, etc.; but above all, what they hoped was that, henceforth, the possibility of implementing the maximum eight-hour day would quickly become apparent to everyone.

Having observed this, let us examine what the situation was within the confederal organization, in the aftermath of the Bourges congress, where, in September 1904, the eight-hour agitation had been decided, with a meeting scheduled for May 1, 1906 .

At the congress, only one opposition was expressed; no one other than Keufer had offered general criticisms of the proposed campaign. Besides the fact that the method of action advocated was repugnant to him, because it was a manifestation of the class struggle, he would have preferred that instead of immediately setting the milestone of “conquering the eight-hour day,” they had limited themselves to demanding the application of the ten-hour day and then, proceeding in stages, obtain successive reductions in working hours.

This argument had no effect on the congress and the resolution mandating the confederal committee to initiate the eight-hour movement was passed almost unanimously.

But if objections and criticisms hadn’t surfaced in Bourges, they did afterward. Some who, in the atmosphere of the congress, had acquiesced to the tactical forms of the advocated propaganda and who had been enthusiastic about the eight-hour agitation, were within a few weeks brought back to their political convictions. Dogma, which the influence of action—of life—had momentarily neutralized, exerted its hold on these individuals. Among them were activists from the Textile Federation. After initially approving the campaign, they considered it, at the very least, ill-timed and became a dead weight.

Others, such as the secretary of the Saint-Quentin Labor Exchange, made a specialty of fanciful denigration. This citizen was a delegate in Bourges, but he waited until he returned home to criticize the eight-hour movement, giving the congress resolution an interpretation behind which he could hide his inaction: he proclaimed that the CGT was organizing the social revolution for May 1, ^1906. Having made this assertion, he explained that he did not intend to be complicit in such madness… and that was why he was going to abstain from participating in the eight-hour campaign.

The secretary of the Saint-Quentin labor exchange was not alone in spreading this fanciful interpretation. Most of those who claim to be more or less “reformists” repeated this interpretation ad nauseam, with the ulterior motive of discrediting the movement and halting its momentum.

The reason for these attitudes, these denigrations, these belated abstentions, must be sought in the concerns of dogmatic politicians, fearing the expansion of economic groups and the attractive force that such a movement, which was brewing, would bring them. Indeed, if it were to be demonstrated that, through its own efforts, independently of the support of parliamentary parties, the working class was wresting improvements from capitalism, was there not a risk that, becoming increasingly enthusiastic about trade union organization and its methods of action, it would come to consider the political “party” as inferior or negligible?

Citizen Guesde translated these jealous concerns, with his oratorical acerbity, into numerous

conferences. But never did he bring more incisive clarity to developing his thesis than on the eve of May 1, ¹⁹⁰⁶ , at a meeting held at the Saint-Paul riding school. After mocking the confederation’s movement for the eight-hour day, he proclaimed it ridiculous to want to conquer the eight-hour day through “anarchistic direct action”: “Vote wisely on May 6! ¹ … and the next day you will have, much more easily, this eight-hour day that you demand…”

While citizen Guesde expressed his apprehensions, harshly criticizing the eight-hour movement in Lille, Paris, Troyes, etc. – but openly – others, inspired by the same concerns, brought obstacles to the movement that were much more difficult to overcome because they did not take a concrete form and were hidden behind ambiguities.

In this order of events, there was the resolution voted by the socialist congress of Chalon-sur-Saône, in “favor” of the eight-hour campaign.

Such was the atmosphere of muted, disguised hostility towards the eight-hour workday campaign that emerged in the aftermath of the Bourges congress. Instead of finding genuine, unbiased support among those claiming to support social ideals, the CGT found itself beset by the resentments of cliques, and this very fact hampered the impact of its campaign.

There’s no point in complaining about these facts. They’re human! Simply highlighting them reveals the full extent of the harm such an attitude caused to the working class. While it’s pointless to emphasize “all those who are not with us are against us…”, it must nevertheless be acknowledged that all those who, in one way or another…

I. June 6, 1906, was the day of the first round of the legislative elections which, following the second round (May 20), would give seventy-four seats to the socialists (fifty-four to the SFIO, for whom this was their first national election as an established party, and twenty to other “independent” socialists). In the previous elections of 1902, the two socialist parties that existed at the time had obtained forty-three seats. Furthermore, they obstructed the eight-hour workday campaign and contributed (unintentionally, it is highly probable) to playing into the hands of the forces of exploitation and oppression.

Capitalists and rulers were not displeased by the windfall: it made it easier for them to resist the wishes of the workers.

To justify their stance, the parliamentary socialists raised the issue of elections. According to them, the Bourges congress had been driven by anti-parliamentary concerns, choosing May ^1st, 1906, as its meeting date—a time of year during the election period. However, I don’t think I’m exaggerating when I say that, of the four hundred delegates at the Bourges congress, when the question of the date was discussed, not one—even eighteen months later!—thought of the upcoming legislative elections. Therefore, this argument is worthless! There is only one plausible one, as mentioned above: the pitiful fear of seeing economic action subordinate parliamentary action.

Citizen Keufer, however, was driven by other concerns. For twenty years, in opposition to the increasingly revolutionary momentum of trade unionism, he advocated a hybrid system based on joint committees, cordial relations with employers, and courting of the government, hoping to avoid violent conflicts, which he proclaimed detrimental to workers. He taught and strove to establish a form of trade unionism limited to the corporatist sphere, not extending to class struggle. To this end, at the congress of the Book Workers’ Federation (Lyon, 1905), he secured the adoption of the nine-hour workday platform, the implementation of which was to be pursued and achieved through the system of joint committees. Keufer aimed to oppose the reformist method to the revolutionary one. Let us say at once that events thwarted his calculations: by force of circumstances, by the logical course of action, the Book movement did not oppose that of the CGT but, on the contrary, joined forces with it; moreover, the results they obtained, the typographer comrades owe, not to their moderation, to their benign “wisdom”, nor to the joint commissions, but rather to their tenacity and their revolutionary temperament.

Thus, such was the situation in the aftermath of the Bourges congress, when the eight-hour agitation began: besides having to fight its real enemies — exploiters and leaders — the working class had to take into account obstacles of inertia and ill will, obstacles aroused by its own people!

This situation was regrettable and, however, it had its advantages, for it would differentiate the eight-hour movement from all those to which it would be compared and reveal, even more clearly, its specific characteristics: this movement would be, undeniably, a class movement, substituting for corporatist demands demands of a general order; moreover, free from any link with elements external to economic groups, it would be a manifestation of the value and necessity of the autonomy of the working class.

— II —

The initial act of confederation propaganda was a questionnaire sent, a few weeks after the Bourges congress, to all CGT bodies: unions, labor exchanges, and federations. It was, in fact, necessary to know which organizations supported the movement and what resources the special commission appointed for propaganda would have at its disposal.

The responses came, and while not reaching exorbitant sums, enough subscriptions poured in to allow for an active campaign. In those eighteen months of propaganda, the Confederal Commission collected 22,000 francs. This sum is relatively small compared to the effort expended. Even the smallest election would have cost far more! But it’s important to understand that in the realm of workers’ propaganda, money isn’t the only crucial element; there’s also the enthusiasm of the activists, and that’s why the power of the meager sums raised is considerably multiplied. With the 22,000 francs in question, which would make campaign organizers and political manipulators smile, the Confederal Commission—admirably supported by the activity of the activists and the efforts of the organizations—shaken working-class France to its core.

It is also necessary to add that this sum of 22,000 francs represents only a portion of the organizations’ financial effort: their contribution to the overall propaganda campaign. In addition to these subscriptions, each organization, using its own specific resources, faced intense propaganda efforts within its area of ​​operation.

Here we touch upon one of the characteristics of the trade union movement, which largely accounts for its power of expansion: federalism, decentralization, autonomy.

This is what makes the workers’ movement incomprehensible to a Jacobin like Clemenceau, and this is why this gentleman thought he was being very clever by having Griffuelhes and Lévy* imprisoned in the Bastille on the eve of May Day ^, imagining he could thus decapitate the movement. This idea of ​​”genius” was even more foolish than it was wicked!

In workers’ organizations, there are no passive citizens (nor are there passive organizations) receiving orders and waiting for a signal from the center to carry them out; all are active militants, taking initiative, thinking and acting within their sphere of influence. This is the image of life, whereas centralized agglomerations are its negation: throughout nature, within the body of which they are integral parts, cells live and evolve, even enjoying a degree of autonomy appropriate to their environment; so it is with trade union organizations, in contrast to political agglomerations which are the opposite, the subordination of all initiative to the central will.

Thus, the campaign for the eight-hour day was not solely the responsibility of the Confederal Commission; the effort became widespread and carried out everywhere and in every direction. Union members did not rely on the union to do the propaganda work: they did it themselves, in their workshops, at the local bar… everywhere they came into contact with workers still clinging to bourgeois prejudices. The union, too, was careful not to rely on its local labor exchange, nor on its trade federation, with the same care: it acted within its own sphere of influence. The same can be said of the labor exchange and the National Federation; neither expected the Confederal Commission to be the sole driving force. Thus, thanks to this multiplicity of action points, thanks to this intertwining of combined efforts and diverse initiatives—which did not cancel each other out—a powerful current of activity was created. And, it cannot be stressed enough: the work accomplished, resulting from the vital forces set in motion, was achieved with minimal sums of money.

As soon as the propaganda campaign began, it intensified, with numerous meetings held in all centers; pamphlets explaining and commenting on the meaning of the movement for the eight-hour day ^[25]  ; and a profusion of posters, manifestos, and labels. The indifferent were assailed, and the apathy of their minds was shaken. The result was swift. Within a few months, a deep furrow had been plowed; the eight-hour campaign was shaking the inert masses who had remained unmoved until then; the attention of even the most obtuse was awakened. The question of reducing working hours was not only raised, but it became the dominant preoccupation.

This campaign alone — assuming it had no other result than the effort made — would be sufficient to legitimize the resolution of the Bourges congress.

Action justifies itself. There is no need to seek results from it. Inaction is bad and unhealthy; action is good and fruitful. Consequently, even if the eight-hour day’s action had no other result than the increase in strength and awareness that stems from action (just as strengthening the limbs is achieved through methodical exercise), that action would be its own justification. Now, during the eighteen months of the eight-hour day’s agitation, the working class acted. It expressed itself, it fought… it lived! Through this eighteen-month exercise, it affirmed its growing power and, for many, it revealed itself to itself. Instead of getting bogged down in the petty and narrowly corporatist concerns to which capitalism would reduce it, it has risen to general conceptions and has thus manifested the irreducible opposition that exists between the proletariat and the bourgeoisie.

Isn’t this unwavering and persistent agitation, sustained for eighteen months, a significant sign of growing worker consciousness? And I would add that, to fully grasp the tenacity revealed by this continuous agitation, one must understand that, beneath its concrete reality, the basis of the propaganda—the conquest of the eight-hour day—nonetheless possessed all the characteristics of an abstraction. It was a general agitation that took place, and this generality persisted to the very end; the workers’ demands were not directed at any particular employer, but against the business class as a whole.

The campaign was therefore a class struggle campaign. This is what reveals its great social value and this is why it legitimizes itself — by the action it engendered — without even needing to take into account the benefits that resulted from it.

Moreover, this campaign did not come at the expense of the daily tasks of resisting exploitation; it was added to this normal activity, which it consequently helped to strengthen. There was therefore not simply a shift in focus, but rather an intensification of effort.

In just a few months of confederate propaganda, it became clear to everyone that, as a whole, the working class was working too hard, and the eight-hour day, which just a few months earlier had seemed like a difficult and almost utopian improvement, was accepted as a possibility. So much so that today the debate is no longer for or against its feasibility, but solely about the advisability of its implementation.

The eight-hour day, therefore, as a principle, has become ingrained in the customs not only of the working class, which desires and will have it, but also of many capitalists who, unwittingly influenced by confederate propaganda, no longer raise radical objections to it, but only the argument of expediency: the need to stand up to foreign competition and the inferiority of industrial France, working eight hours, compared to other nations where working hours are longer. These concerns are reflected in legislation by a proposed international agreement for the implementation of the eight-hour day. Citizen Gervais*, rapporteur for the 1906 budget of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, called for international measures to be taken to establish international labor legislation. Regarding this proposal itself, and its feasibility, one should not be under any illusions; skepticism is warranted. But what is important to remember about such a proposal is the symptom of the penetration work carried out by the eight-hour propaganda, of which it was the characteristic.

This shift in the prevailing mentality, this “state of mind” that leads people to consider the implementation of the eight-hour day as imminent, if not urgent, is already a significant outcome of the campaign. Indeed, it’s crucial to remember that such an achievement is only possible in an environment that is prepared and conducive to its application. The essential point is that this unavoidable condition be met. After that, resistance is easily overcome; implementation becomes a matter of minimal effort.

But without the resolution of the Bourges congress, we would have continued to talk about the eight-hour day, very platonically, as we had been doing for the past fifteen years or so. We would have talked about it as we talk about the revolution… without attaching any concrete importance to it, and without worrying about its realization, so far removed did the achievement of the eight-hour day seem from our immediate reach.

On the contrary, thanks to the eight-hour campaign, the issue moved beyond the realm of abstraction; it was confronted head-on, as a tangible reality, and people became familiar with this new schedule, the possibility of which was becoming a certainty. This led to a widespread aversion to long working days among the working class, a mentality so strong that it will now be impossible for employers to obtain from their workers the same excessive workloads they could maintain only a few years ago.

— III —

Among the criticisms made about the resolution of the Bourges congress, there is one which touches on the question of setting a date in advance for the mobilization of the working masses: “To say that on May 1, ¹⁹⁰⁶ the working class would mobilize was to warn bosses and rulers in advance and facilitate their defense…” And this argument was reinforced by the objection that great social movements do not take place on a slogan, on a fixed date.

Certainly, it would be absurd to suppose that a revolution will take place on a predetermined date, by virtue of a congress’s decision. But this does not imply that the working class should refrain from engaging in a kind of active mobilization and mass uprising, training itself and acquiring the habit of coordinated and rhythmic effort.

These criticisms of setting a date for the meeting reveal a lingering Jacobin mindset. If we reject this tactic of calling the entire people to action, what method will we resort to? Will we wait for a signal from the center, or will we turn to secret preparations? In any case, whatever plan we adopt, short of a public appeal proclaimed through every conceivable means of propaganda, we will no longer be appealing to direct action and the initiative of those directly involved; we will fall back into the old errors of relying on “intermediaries” to accomplish the task at hand, and the movement will shift from the economic to the parliamentary sphere. Instead of being a movement of self-emancipation, it will be a floundering in democraticism.

I had, in anticipation, answered this objection about the disadvantages and benefits for the working class of carrying out its mass movements in broad daylight, by setting its appointments in advance.

The disadvantages consist in the fact that, having been warned, employers and rulers take their precautions, prepare for resistance; but, on the other hand, these disadvantages are compensated — and greatly! — by the benefit that the workers derive from this tactic which aims to create a current of opinion influencing all social classes; with the means of popularization at their disposal, it would be almost impossible for them, apart from propaganda done in broad daylight, to obtain this result and they have the considerable advantage of reaching the indifferent of their class, of shaking their apathy and making them vibrate to the point that on the day of the meeting they will not remain neutral.

Events have borne out this view. For a good quarter of a century, the eight-hour day has been the rallying cry of every workers’ program and demonstration. But it took the resolution of the Bourges Congress to fully illuminate the possibility of achieving this improvement. Until then, the eight-hour day appeared only as a nebulous and hypothetical realization, as did all the demands contained in social programs.

However, what greatly contributed to making this possibility of achieving the eight hours a reality was the setting of a date, the fact of having agreed to meet to achieve it on May 1, ¹⁹⁰⁶ .

Remove this date from the Bourges congress resolution, and it becomes nothing more than a statement of principle, added to previous declarations and having no more propaganda value than the old ones. If this resolution had simply stated: “We will continue to campaign for the eight-hour day, in order to achieve it as soon as possible…”, it would have been just another empty promise.

The power of the Bourges resolution was precisely to surpass all the theoretical assertions which, with slight variations, were repeated at all the congresses, and to open the implementation phase.

That this tactic of a general call to action displeases politicians is hardly surprising. Indeed, the more it develops, the less influence they will have. The political and democratic character of a movement could be defined by the persistence of a mentality of obedience, discipline, and trust in individuals representative of the masses it involves; whereas, on the economic level,

I. Here again, we can only refer readers to Maurice Dommanget’s great book cited above, in particular the chapter “The Eight Hours: From Distant Origins to the Commune” (History of May Day, op. cit., pp. 27-48). The defining characteristic is that individuals must themselves make the necessary effort and rely solely on their own strength. And it is for this reason that, on this ground, with such a foundation, there can never be disappointments, as is seen in the political sphere where one indulges in illusions and unfounded hopes: one has placed one’s trust in others, and it is no wonder one is deluded! On the contrary, in the economic sphere, since one expects nothing from anyone but oneself, when, after a period of action, one examines the consequences of the effort made, one has only oneself to blame if the results are not better. Even among those who, while having a less clear understanding of the economic process, acted more on impulse than reason, this comforting notion arises: namely, that if the results were not better, it was because they were incompletely prepared. Consequently, far from giving in to discouragement, they are encouraged to redouble their efforts in order to do better next time.

This symptomatic state of mind is evident today: after the May Day movement, no moral depression has emerged in the working class. Certainly, there may be—and there are!—exceptions in a few centers; exceptions due to particular and local causes. But what is most striking—and what is an encouraging sign—is the absence of weariness and the serene confidence in the future that is emerging. They marched for the eight-hour day, knowing full well that this was only a first skirmish and without expecting such immediate and complete success. They marched! And whatever the results, there is no discouragement. Even in those sectors where the strike movement yielded no partial gains, failures are rare and quite exceptional; the general trend is one of self-confidence and hope for future movements that will be more profitable because they will be more conscious and better coordinated.

The working class emerges from this initial period of unrest more seasoned and vigorous. It has exercised its strength, engaging in excellent training which, culminating in an attempt at general mobilization, has revealed the level of awareness it has reached. The trade union organization emerges strengthened from the experience: new unions have sprung up and are gaining strength, while existing ones have increased their membership. Moreover, the Confederation of Labor emerges from the ordeal in a better position; its influence and reach are thereby enhanced.

Even the memorable fright that shook the bourgeoisie in the weeks leading up to May 1st ^was a symptom of the growing influence of the CGT.

The reactionary political parties thought it very clever, as the legislative elections approached, to frighten what is called “the country” by denouncing the revolutionary peril and predicting general upheaval on May 1st ^. From an electoral point of view (which is irrelevant to us in this instance), they had little reason to rejoice in the consequences of their campaign. As for the economic benefit they derived from it, it is even more problematic.

First of all, the intense venette ^{[26] [27]} which disturbed the capitalist bellies gave the working class a hilarious spectacle of the cowardice – symptom of irremediable decline – of the privileged classes ^II . A class which has no more critical sense and resilience is decrepit and almost moribund.

Certainly, there were exceptions. But the bourgeois who remained unperturbed hardly enhance the prestige of their class. Are these industrial leaders from the East, who, as May ^Day approached , fortified their factories and armed themselves, like the Crettiez family*, truly of their time? They bring to mind feudal bandits, safe in their dungeons, pillaging and terrorizing the countryside. It’s the same bloodthirsty brute mentality.

There are other bosses who, more clear-sighted, having recognized the social and revolutionary character of the May Day movement, excited by the panicked press, sought to oppose this mass uprising of workers with a mass resistance of employers: they defended themselves by the lockout and laid the foundations – more or less solid! – of an employers’ confederation ¹ .

The working class has every reason to rejoice in all of this. There is nothing like clear-cut situations. Now, the two classes stand face to face, each defending its interests, which are clearly opposed.

The ambiguities disappear; the nonsense of “social peace”, all the theories of lies about the agreement between labor and capital can no longer deceive the workers who easily discover in those who advocate them bribes of capitalism.

This condensation of classes, at opposite poles, in irreducible antagonism, has been made even more tangible by the government’s attitude towards the working class.

The government also sought — just like the reactors ^{[28] [29] [30]} and with an equally political aim — to play on the “revolutionary peril”; it wanted to influence the elections and resorted, for this task, to the most underhanded methods; it invented the “Conspiracy”, it put Paris and the centers where a protest movement was feared under a state of siege, and, to stop any unrest, it ordered the systematic application of the villainous laws®, under which mass arrests were carried out.

On the surface, the election results appear to have justified this brutal suppression of the working class, yet it would be more accurate to attribute these successes to general aspirations for progress—admittedly too vague, but manifested through elections, for lack of a better method. Only one election is indisputably the result of ministerial actions: that of the young Biétry in Brest, which was only possible thanks to the siege of the city, the military occupation of the Bourse du Travail (Labor Exchange), and the arrest of twenty-five activists from the trade union organizations.

This outrageously repressive attitude toward the working class by a very progressive government made employers all the more intransigent and incited them to an even more stubborn resistance, as they had not anticipated such support from them. The rise to power of politicians known for their social aspirations and declarations of freedom suggested a more pronounced neutrality than under previous governments in the face of conflicts between labor and capital. The opposite occurred! One has to go back a long way to find such a cynical and violent bias in favor of capitalist privileges and against workers’ demands.

These actions have disconcerted many workers, deeply imbued with democratic ideals; they had hoped for the new ministerial staff to be, if not sympathy, at least a degree of neutrality. These individuals, carried away by sentimental concerns, had conveniently forgotten that a government, whatever its political leanings, has a mission to fulfill, and one that it must inevitably fulfill: maintaining order! That is to say: defending the privileged, protecting the exploiters. It is the policeman of capital; that is its function, and it cannot shirk it.

For all those who still retained this residue of democracy, the lesson of May Day will have been beneficial: it proves to us that there is nothing to expect from any government whatsoever; the working class does not have to count on external support, it is within itself that it must find the strength and the will to emancipate itself.

Furthermore, the maneuvers of all political parties, whatever their affiliation, during this period of unrest, have amply demonstrated that all of them, in various forms, are nothing more than exploiters of the working class. In this autonomous May Day movement, the reactionaries saw only a means of drawing voters back to their side, and the government obeyed identical calculations and concerns. No one thought to examine the merits or lack thereof of the workers’ demands!

The lesson is clear! It provides further proof that, in the political arena, the working class can only hope to find those who will profit from its movements. Whoever they may be, all politicians who extend a hand to it will have a selfish motive.

It is worth recalling the malicious actions of certain figures within the Unified Socialist Party when the infamous Plot was discussed. Instead of openly defending their comrades, who were known to be falsely accused, there were reservations and Jesuitical undertones. You should have seen it… They demanded that the government provide proof… And with this insidious hypocrisy, they reinforced the slander, all while pretending to protest.

For all these reasons, I reiterate: the lesson of May Day is a good one!

The working class should be wary of any overtures made to it and reject them all. Its growth, the strength it acquires daily, is the result of autonomous action, and any deviation from solid economic ground, any collusion, any rapprochement with political parties could only be detrimental to it.

I pointed out that one of the characteristics of the eight-hour movement was the condensation of the two classes present: the capitalist class and the working class.

The most topical example of this phenomenon was given to us in the book industry.

We know that, under the influence of citizen Keufer, the congress of the Book Federation, held in Lyon in 1905, had decided to restrict the demands of

–
I. Name commonly given at the time to the SFIO (French Section of the Socialist International), born in 1905 from the unification of the numerous socialist factions that existed until then.

The printing industry was working towards achieving a nine-hour workday. Furthermore, this improvement was to be pursued using a different tactic than that advocated by the CGT. Instead of relying on worker initiative and energy, on struggle and strikes, the Book Federation wanted to achieve its goal through the use of joint employer-worker committees.

Thus, the two trade union methods – that of direct action and that of agreement with employers – were to be tested during the campaign decided by the resolution of the Bourges congress.

It is not presumptuous to assume that those who, in the aftermath of the Bourges congress, expected the “failure of direct action” as a result of the May 1st movement of ¹⁹⁰⁶ were thinking of glorifying, in opposition, the results achieved by the wise and balanced method advocated by Keufer.

However, in reality, the only “failure” we have witnessed is that of the joint commissions. Moreover, it is categorical and undeniable, so much so that Keufer himself admits it.

For months, with patient slowness, talks continued between the Central Book Committee and the employers, with a view to reaching an amicable agreement; the master printers of France finally responded with a formal refusal. At the meeting of the Central Committee on February 10, 1906, Citizen Keufer, reporting on the failure of the joint commission, said:

“The reality is this: the employers’ vote and the prolonged suspension of the joint committee means abandoning any amicable negotiation and entering a period of struggle.

 “I make no secret of the fact that this is a failure for our tactics, and for me, as I have always defended them.”

Following this declaration of bankruptcy of the joint committees, at the same session, Keufer added:

“Personally, I’m not abandoning this tactic forever; I believe it still has its value despite the setbacks inflicted upon it by the bosses. But it is up to me to absolve myself of all responsibility for the future, whatever method of struggle the book workers adopt…”

The method of struggle adopted by the Parisian printers was that of direct action. They demonstrated energy, tenacity, and combative vigor; they went on strike with all its consequences and did not even shy away from sabotage. They had no cause to regret it! And it is fortunate that, beforehand, Citizen Keufer absolved himself of responsibility for the future, for thus, there can be no ambiguity: the results obtained were achieved independently of him and contrary to his method. Moreover, the current tension in relations between the Central Book Committee and the Parisian Typography Section underscores, more clearly than ever, this irremediable failure of the Keufer method. In the official Bulletin of the Parisian typographic trade union, published on the occasion of the strikes, appeared (on July 2, 1906) an article on “the solution of conflicts between capital and labor” which condemns, without further ado, the system of mixed commissions and any method of agreement between employers and workers.

“Our Parisian Typography,” it says, “having used the tactic advocated until now by the leaders of our federation — the joint commission — it is up to us to examine today the results achieved and those which, in the opinion of many of our colleagues, we could or should have obtained.

 “Can the joint commission, which by its very nature represents the most direct form of agreement between the two factors of production, capital and labor, and thus aligns with the theories put forward and developed in Parliament by the president of the Yellows and supported by the Minister of the Interior, currently resolve a typographical conflict, and if so, to what extent?”

To this question posed, the Bulletin replies that if, in some small provincial sections, the joint commission has given some results, it is thanks to workers’ retreats, by accepting a considerable attenuation of the demands made, while, in all the important cities, satisfaction has only been obtained through the strike.

Therefore, he proclaims, the joint commissions must be condemned immediately, and he adds:

“The conclusion from the above is self-evident: joint commissions or arbitrations have never brought the working class anything but minimums conceded by employers when they felt compelled to maximums by continuing the struggle, and even then, in many cases, these concessions were violated when no organization imposed respect for them by its power.

 “Therefore, only one means of emancipation remains for the proletariat: trade union organization. One weapon for achieving a better life: the strike.”

We couldn’t have said it better! And this is yet another result of the May Day unrest.

When we recall the past, the internal conflicts within the confederation regarding methods; when we remember that at the Bourges congress, the Book Federation, which symbolized the “practical” methods of moderation and balance, with the joint commission as its standard-bearer, led the charge against the revolutionaries, we can only rejoice to see this paralyzing ambiguity dispelled. The Parisian Typography Federation—which alone represents more than a third of the entire Book Federation—educated on the job by experience, repudiates these methods of stagnation and proclaims the high value of union action, free from any employer compromise.

And we owe this to the campaign for the eight-hour day!

Above, I have tried to note, mainly from a moral point of view, the consequences of the first effective agitation campaign for the conquest of the eight-hour day.

If this assessment were to be summed up in just these three words: “We have acted!…”, then the campaign undertaken would be justified without further ado.

But, as we have seen, there is more to note: among the workers, after the battle, there is neither weariness nor weakness; some unions have been strengthened, others have been created under the impetus of confederate propaganda; the CGT emerges considerably strengthened from the ordeal; it now stands as the organization for offensive action against capitalism. Furthermore, the May Day movement of ¹⁹⁰⁶ allowed us to observe the failure of the method of social pacifism symbolized by the joint commission; to gauge the decrepitude of the bourgeoisie, terrified by workers’ action; to see once again that all governments are the same and that, whatever their nature, they will always be the supporters of capital.

Glossary

Jean Allemane (1843-1935). A typesetter, born in Sauveterre-de-Comminges, Haute-Garonne. Living in Paris, he became involved in the events of the Paris Commune in 1871. Arrested on May 28, he was tried and sentenced to life imprisonment with hard labor. Granted amnesty in 1880, he returned to France and joined the POF (French Workers’ Party), then the FTSF (Federation of Socialist Workers of France). In 1890, he founded the POSR (Revolutionary Socialist Workers’ Party). Viewing political struggle as simply a means of propagating socialist ideas, this party distinguished itself by its “workerism” and its advocacy of the general strike, which was regularly voted on at all its congresses. The Allemanists contributed to the founding of the FNBT (National Federation of Labor Exchanges) and the CGT (General Confederation of Labour).

Jean Barberet (1837-1920). Journalist, politician, and trade unionist. A close associate of Gambetta, he was one of the founders, in May 1872, of the Cercle de l’Union Syndicale Ouvrière (Circle of the Workers’ Union). It was at his initiative that the first workers’ congress in France was held in Paris in October 1876, marked by the spirit of the mutualist and cooperative movement. The rise of socialist movements and then of the Bourses du Travail (labor exchange) trade unionism brought an end to the existence of the “Barberettist” unions.

Basly, Émile (1854-1928). Originally a miner, trade unionist and politician of reformist leanings. Secretary of the

Founded in 1882, the Anzin Miners’ Union distinguished itself during the 1884 strike. He served as a deputy for Paris from 1885 to 1891, then for Pas-de-Calais, and finally as mayor of Lens from 1900 until his death. The Miners’ Federation (the “Old Union”), which he led with Arthur Lamendin, only joined the CGT in 1908, after heated debates with the “Young Union” of Pas-de-Calais miners, led by Benoît Broutchoux and affiliated with the Confederation.

Clément Beausoleil (1859-1912). Member of the Seine Employees’ Union, secretary of the first CGT (General Confederation of Labour) confederal bureau, and delegate from the Versailles Bourse du Travail (Labour Exchange) to the 1898 congress of the Federation of Bourses. In September 1900, he participated in the national trade union congress in Paris. In 1907, he was one of the twelve signatories of the poster “Government of Assassins,” displayed in Paris on June 23 to protest the authorities’ response to the demonstrations by winegrowers in the Midi region.

Pierre Biétry (1872-1918), a watchmaker, initially joined Jules Guesde’s party before distancing himself from socialism and advocating class collaboration. He was appointed assistant secretary of Paul Lanoir’s Federation of Independent Trade Unions, founded in 1901 to counter the “red” unionism of the CGT (General Confederation of Labour). Breaking with Lanoir, he created the National Federation of Yellows on April 1, ¹⁹⁰² , which held congresses in 1904, 1906, 1907, and 1909. In 1906, he was elected deputy for Brest as an anti-socialist candidate. Two years later, he founded the Proprietary Party.

Jean Boyanique, a glassmaker, was one of the driving forces behind the Albi Labor Exchange, founded in 1899, which he represented at the 10th ^Congress of the National Federation of Labor Exchanges (Algiers, September 1902). He attended the CGT congress in Bourges, representing the printers of his city. In 1906, he ran for the legislative elections in Castres as a Socialist Party candidate. An administrator of the Albi Workers’ Glassworks, he also managed the Carmaux socialist newspaper, Le Cri des travailleurs (The Workers’ Cry).

Paul Brousse (1844-1912). Physician and politician. A militant of the First International, he played an important role within the Swiss section of the International, the Jura Federation. He later moved towards reformist socialism and led the Federation of Socialist Workers of France (FTSF). In 1902, his faction merged with that of Jaurès to form the PSF (French Socialist Party). He joined the ranks of the SFIO (French Section of the Workers’ International) in 1905.

Gilbert Cotte (1856-1905). A coal miner and trade union activist from the Loire region, he was elected general secretary of the Saint-Étienne Labor Exchange in 1895, and later of the National Federation of Miners of France. His popularity among the miners was affected by the delaying tactics of the national committee in 1901 and 1902. In March 1903, the Loire federation, Cotte’s creation, left the national organization with the intention of joining the CGT (General Confederation of Labour), which, however, refused any relations with him.

CoupAt, Pierre (1860-?). A mechanic and socialist activist in the Saint-Étienne region since the 1880s, he was appointed secretary of the Mechanics’ Federation in 1901. Associated with Millerand, he became one of the leading representatives of the reformist wing of the CGT (General Confederation of Labour), along with Keufer and the former Allemanist Guérard. Present at the Amiens congress in 1906, he nevertheless rallied to the motion of the Confederal Committee, after having signed the agenda presented by Keufer.

Crettiez (family). Owners of a watchmaking company founded in 1862 in Arâches (Haute-Savoie) and established in Cluses ten years later. It became famous in July 1904, when, during a strike, the Crettiez sons fired on a procession of demonstrators, causing three deaths and about a hundred injuries.

Raymond Dubéros (1881-?). Hairdresser, revolutionary syndicalist. Belonging to the Blanquist faction, he participated in the general congress of socialist organizations held at the Salle Japy (Paris) in December 1899. He was also present at the Bourges congress, where he had been mandated by the Clog Makers’ Federation.

and various unions, there he developed the “Report on the organization of agitation for the conquest of the eight hours”, which earned him the immediate support of Pouget and marked the beginning of the confederation’s eight-hour campaign.

Johann Georg Eccarius (1818-1889). Originally from Thuringia, he was a tailor by trade. Living in London from 1846, he joined the League of the Just and later the Communist League. From 1864 to 1872, he served on the General Council of the International Workingmen’s Association, becoming its General Secretary from 1867 to 1871.

Auguste Garnery (1865-1935). Revolutionary syndicalist, secretary of the Jewelry Federation (affiliated with the CGT) from its founding in 1901 until 1910. He participated in all the confederation congresses held from 1904 to 1910. In 1906, in Amiens, he signed the motion presented by Victor Griffuelhes. In 1908, after the events in Villeneuve-Saint-Georges, he replaced Yvetot as secretary of the Bourses du Travail (Labor Exchanges). He was one of the very few pre-1914 syndicalists to remain in contact with Pouget until the latter’s death.

Auguste Gervais (1857-1917). A career soldier, journalist (particularly for La Petite République and L’Aurore) , and politician, he was a radical and a Freemason. Deputy mayor of Issy-les-Moulineaux and later president of the Seine General Council, he was elected to the Chamber of Deputies in 1898, and re-elected in 1902 and 1906. Three years later, he entered the Senate.

Victor Griffuelhes (1874-1922). A shoemaker by trade, a trade unionist, and co-author, with Pouget, of the resolution drafted on behalf of the Confederal Committee following the 1906 congress. Born in Nérac (Lot-et-Garonne), he settled in Paris in 1893. A former Blanquist, he was elected secretary of the Leather and Hide Federation in 1900 and then general secretary of the CGT in September 1901. His desire to maintain a militant stance within the CGT led to his imprisonment before May Day ¹⁹⁰⁶ and again shortly after the events of July 30, 1908, in Villeneuve-Saint-Georges. After his release, his rivals on the Confederal Committee campaigned against him, criticizing his financial management of the Maison des Fédérations (House of Federations). His resignation on February 24, 1909, highlighted the latent crisis within the Confederation. Once Louis Niel was removed from the general secretariat, Griffuelhes continued to influence CGT policy through Léon Jouhaux, the new confederate secretary from July 1909. He was part of the founding core of * La Bataille syndicaliste*, the revolutionary syndicalist daily whose first issue appeared on April 27, 1911, but quickly withdrew from it. In 1912, he launched the monthly *L’Encyclopédie du mouvement syndicaliste*, aiming to compete with * La Vie ouvrière* , edited by Monatte and his associates. He left behind several works, including *L’Action syndicaliste * (1908) and * Voyage révolutionnaire : impressions d’un propagandiste * (1909).

Eugène Guérard (1859-1931), a railway worker, socialist trade unionist of the “Allemanist” tendency, and member of the Chevalerie du Travail (Chevaliere of Labor), was one of the first propagandists for the general strike within the French labor movement. The principal leader of the Railway Employees’ Union, he was appointed general secretary of the CGT (General Confederation of Labour) in April 1901. His appointment in 1900 to the Superior Council of Labour, the softening of his positions, and his support for proportional representation made him a prime target for the revolutionaries within the Confederation. Opposed to the Confederal Bureau elected at the 1902 congress, he aligned himself with the reformists of the CGT, with whom he published L’Action Ouvrière (Workers’ Action) from 1908 to 1910. Subjected to intense attacks, he was forced in December 1909 to resign from the position he had held for eighteen years.

Jules Guesde (1845-1922). Pseudonym of Jules Bazile, French journalist and politician. After a period with the Jura Federation, one of the sections of the International Workingmen’s Association (IWA) committed to Bakunin’s ideas, Guesde converted to Marxism and, along with Paul Lafargue, founded the POF (French Workers’ Party), the first French party to ever claim to follow Marx’s teachings. Initially a proponent of the insurrectionary path to socialism, his party’s early successes quickly led him to adopt a parliamentary approach, without, however, abandoning revolutionary rhetoric. He was elected representative for Roubaix from 1893 to 1896, then deputy for Lille from 1906 to 1922, under the banner of the SFIO (French Section of the Workers’ International).

Hardy, Éloi, a farrier, was a candidate for the POSR in the 1896 elections in Paris. He was a delegate to the 12th ^National Trade Union Congress (the sixth of the CGT), held in Lyon in September 1901, representing the farriers of Paris. He also attended the Marseille congress in 1908 for the National Federation of Farriers, where he spoke in favor of proportional representation.

Henriot, H., a match maker and revolutionary syndicalist, was a delegate to the 14th ^Trade Union Congress (the eighth of the CGT) and to the Conference of Labor Exchanges, held in Bourges from September 12 to 20, 1904. Representing the Match Makers’ Federation, he declared himself “clearly opposed” to proportional representation. He also attended the following congress in Amiens, where he signed the agenda presented by Griffuelhes on behalf of the Confederal Committee. He died young of tuberculosis.

Jules Joffrin (1846-1890). French politician. Elected to the Paris Commune, he was forced into exile after the Bloody Week and took refuge in England, where he lived for about ten years. He joined the “possibilist” branch of the socialist movement, of which he was one of the leaders, along with Paul Brousse and Benoît Malon. After the amnesty, he returned to France and, in 1882, became a member of the Paris municipal council. In 1889, he was elected deputy for the 18th ^{arrondissement} of Paris.

Auguste Keufer (1851-1924). A typesetter by profession, he was a reformist trade unionist. Secretary of the Book Workers’ Federation, he was among the founders of the CGT (General Confederation of Labour), of which he was the first treasurer. A member of the positivist school, affiliated with the Socialist Party and a member of the Higher Labour Council, he consistently opposed the revolutionary tendency within the CGT, which he accused of wanting to transform the Confederation into an “anarchist party”.

Arthur Lamendin (1852-1920). Trade unionist and politician from northern France, with a reformist bent. Having founded the first miners’ union in Lens in 1882, he became, along with Basly, one of the leading figures of the mining union movement in the Pas-de-Calais basin. He served as mayor of Liévin from 1905 to 1912 and as a member of parliament from 1892 to 1919.

Ferdinand Lassalle (1825-1864). A radical democrat and socialist, he participated in the revolutionary movement in Düsseldorf in 1848-1849. In 1862, he embarked on a new political career and, in 1863, founded the ADV (General Association of German Workers). Its merger with the German Social Democratic Workers’ Party of Bebel and Liebknecht led to the creation of the SPD, the Social Democratic Party of Germany. Lassalle soon moved towards a strongly nationalist and statist reformist socialism.

Jean Latapie. A revolutionary syndicalist, he served as secretary of the Metalworkers’ Federation alongside Merrheim and Galantus from 1902. That same year, he succeeded Girard as secretary of the General Strike Committee. A member of the CGT’s Confederal Committee, he was chosen at the Amiens Congress to represent, along with Benoît Broutchoux and Alphonse Merrheim, the position of the Confederation’s majority faction. Speaking on the morning of October 13, he concluded his address by emphasizing the need for the delegates to take a position, for the first time, on the “new doctrine: syndicalism,” a theory he situated “between anarchist and socialist theories.” Linked to Aristide Briand, he would later move towards reformist positions.

Lévy, Albert (1871-1926). An employee, coming from the ranks of the Germanist movement, he was treasurer of the Federation of Labor Exchanges until 1901, a position he would hold at the CGT until 1909. He was the one who initiated the affair of the House of Federations, which forced Griffuelhes to resign from the general secretariat of the CGT in 1909.

Luquet, Alexandre (1874-1930). Hairdresser by profession, revolutionary syndicalist, from the Guesdist school. Secretary of the Hairdressers’ Federation, he belonged to the CGT’s confederal committee before 1914 and was one of the main instigators of the campaign against employment agencies and in favor of weekly rest.

Merzet, Étienne (1869-1934). Mine worker, trade unionist and socialist activist. Employed by the Blanzy mining company, he is considered to have been the instigator of the great 1899 strike in Montceau-les-Mines. In 1901, as a member of the national council of the Miners’ Federation, he tried unsuccessfully to get it to support the strike launched on January 21 of that year. Merzet’s union and a few others, feeling betrayed by management, left the federation and formed,

^On May 1, 1904, he was appointed secretary of the Miners’ Federation, affiliated with the CGT (General Confederation of Labour). Occupying a centrist position between the old federation and the revolutionaries of Broutchoux’s “Young Union,” he championed the cause of mining unity, the principle of which he accepted at the old federation’s congress (June 27-July 6, 1906). According to Griffuelhes’ testimony, he was present during the drafting of the motion written by Griffuelhes and Pouget following the Amiens congress. In July 1908, he joined the executive committee of the new miners’ organization, the National Federation of Miners’ Unions. According to Rolande Trempé, he served as a model for the union leader Jean-Désiré Bernard, a character in Charles Malato’s novel * The Great Strike* (1905).

Monot, Henri (?-1908). Lumberjack, trade unionist. In 1899, he helped to re-establish the trade unions for his profession and was appointed president of the Lumberjacks of La Guerche (Cher). In 1903, he was convicted of sabotage. In 1907, he was secretary of the local labor exchange, affiliated with the CGT (General Confederation of Labour).

Louis Niel (1872-1952). Trade unionist, waiter, then typesetter. Appointed secretary of the Montpellier Bourse du Travail (Labor Exchange) in 1901, he played a leading role in the process of “worker unity,” which saw the merger of the Federation of Labor Exchanges and the CGT (General Confederation of Labour). Initially close to anarchists, he gradually moved towards reformist positions. In 1909, after Victor Griffuelhes’ resignation, he was appointed general secretary of the CGT thanks to an unexpected alliance between the reformist wing, of which he was then one of the most prominent spokespeople, and certain revolutionaries within the Confederation. However, he was forced to resign after a few months, following the failure of the postal workers’ strike.

Robert Owen (1771-1858). British reformer and socialist. He began by implementing a program of social reforms in the New Lanark textile company (Scotland), of which he was a co-owner. In 1812, he proposed a plan for transforming social legislation in his work *New Views on Society* , and then attempted to found a communist colony, New Harmony, in Indiana (United States). Returning to England, he expounded communist and utopian theories in the journal *The New Moral World * (1836-1844), which contributed to the development of the Chartist movement and influenced the French socialist Étienne Cabet.

Moritz Rittinghausen (1814-1890), a politician born in Hüchaswagen (Rhineland province), was a proponent of direct legislation by the people. He participated in the work of the Frankfurt Parliament in 1848 and also helped to spread socialist ideas in Belgium. A member of the International Workingmen’s Association, he participated in its major congresses. He is the author of the pamphlet *Direct Legislation by the People, or True Democracy* (1851).

Marcel Sembat (1862-1922). French socialist and Freemason. A Doctor of Law and lawyer at the Paris court, he was a legal columnist for Gambetta’s newspaper, La République française. A member of the Central Revolutionary Committee (Blanquist), then of the Revolutionary Socialist Party (successor to the former), and finally of the Socialist Party of France (PSdF, which brought together Guesdists and Blanquists), he joined the SFIO upon its creation in 1905. He edited La Petite République and contributed to other publications (including La Revue socialiste and L’Humanité). Elected Socialist deputy for Paris in 1893, he was consistently re-elected until his death.

August Spies (1855-1887). One of the “Chicago Martyrs.” Born in Germany and trained as a surveyor, he learned the upholstery trade after settling in Chicago, USA. He became involved in the labor movement in 1877 as a member of the Socialist Workers’ Party and the Chicago branch of the International Workingmen’s Association (IWA). In 1880, he was appointed administrator of the German-language newspaper Die Arbeiter Zeitung (The Worker’s Daily). When the Workers’ Party branch split between a moderate faction and a revolutionary wing, he sided with the latter and gravitated toward anarchism, which was very influential in Chicago. In 1886, he participated in the movement demanding the eight-hour workday. On May 3, the police opened fire on a group of strikers, killing four workers. Spies immediately published a leaflet, written in English and German, demanding revenge for the murdered workers. The following day, during a meeting held at the Haymarket, a bomb was thrown at the police, who retaliated by firing into the crowd. Although they were not present at the scene, Spies and seven of his companions were arrested the very next day. Five of them were sentenced to death in August 1886 and hanged in November 1887, with the exception of Louis Lingg, who committed suicide in his cell. Georges Trouillot (1851-1916) was a French politician. A deputy for the Jura region representing the radical left from 1889 to 1906, he held ministerial positions in the governments formed by Henri Brisson, Émile Combes, Maurice Rouvier, and Aristide Briand. When, at the end of 1904, Pouget wrote his report on the Bourges congress for * Le Mouvement socialiste*, Georges Trouillot was Minister of Commerce, Industry, Posts, and Telegraphs in Émile Combes’s government.

Émile Vandervelde (1866-1938) was a Belgian socialist with doctorates in law, social sciences, and political economy. He joined the Belgian Workers’ Party (POB) upon its founding in 1884. In 1894, he drafted the POB’s foundational document, the Charter of Quaregnon. A member of parliament for Charleroi and later Brussels, he presided over the Second International from 1900 to 1918. It was at his instigation that Belgian socialists entered into coalition governments. He himself served as a minister several times. A professor at the Free University of Brussels, he authored numerous works.

Jean Vibert (1867-1951). Molder at the Brest arsenal, trade unionist and socialist. Secretary of the Brest port workers’ committee in 1899, he transformed it into a revolutionary union and played a major role in the 1904 Brest port strike. In 1909, he became secretary of the arsenal workers. A socialist city councilor, he joined the SFIO (French Section of the Workers’ International) upon its creation in 1905.

Villeval, Albin (1870-1933). Anarchist, then revolutionary syndicalist. Closely associated with Paul Delesalle, he began as a typesetter’s apprentice, then led an adventurous life that took him to numerous cities in France and abroad. After a period in prison, he became a proofreader and was admitted to the profession’s union in September 1904. Heading the Proofreaders’ Union from 1905 to 1910, he led the fight against the reformist leadership of the Book Federation. Present at the Bourges Congress, he spoke out against proportional representation.

Georges Yvetot (1868-1942), a typesetter by profession and an anarchist, succeeded Pelloutier as secretary of the Federation of Labor Exchanges upon the latter’s death, a position he held until 1918. He represented French trade unionism at international trade union conferences in Dublin in 1903, Paris in 1909, and Germany in 1911. An antimilitarist and antipatriot, he founded, with other anarchists, the Antimilitarist League, which, after the 1904 Amsterdam Congress, became a section of the AIA (International Antimilitarist Association). He was appointed secretary of the AIA, along with Miguel Almereyda, of the newspaper La Guerre sociale. His activities in this area led to numerous arrests and convictions. He was among the group of CGT leaders arrested after the events in Villeneuve-Saint-Georges. He is the author of a number of pamphlets, including Towards the General Strike, ABC syndicalist and The New Soldier’s Manual.

The four pamphlets we reproduce here contain the essence of the revolutionary syndicalist concept. These essays are complemented by three texts relating to the campaign for the eight-hour day launched in 1904. Essential for understanding the “revolutionary moment” of French syndicalism, these manuals of workers’ revolt are also a source of inspiration for all those who cannot resign themselves to a social “order” as intolerable today as it was a century ago.

Founder of Père Peinard, Émile Pouget (1860-1931) illustrates the evolution of many French anarchists towards revolutionary syndicalism at the end of the 19th ^century : abandoning the activity of small libertarian groups, he became involved in 1901 within the young CGT, where he became the secretary for professional federations and the head of La Voix du Peuple.

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Footnotes

^[1] I. Émile Pouget Ad Memoriam, op. cit., p. 9.

II. “Report of La Voix du Peuple”, in 1906. The Congress of the Charter of Amiens, Editions of the CGT Institute of Social History, 1983, p. 188.

^[2] Émile Pouget Ad Memoriam, op. cit., p. 9.

^[3] La Voix du Peuple, special May Day issue 1901, p. 4. I. Pouget was, moreover, one of the very first to use the term under which this resolution has gone down in history. He did so in the article “Reformist Statistics,” published in L’Humanité on March 5, 1908: “The agenda presented by Griffuelhes and numerous comrades […] which has become, one might say, the ‘charter’ of syndicalism…”

II. The Voice of the People. July 29–August 5, 1906. The main articles of the “Amiens controversy” are collected in the volume Revolutionary Syndicalism, the Charter of Amiens and Workers’ Autonomy, CNT-RP Editions, 2009

^[4] Article 1 (paragraph 2) of the CGT statutes adopted in 1902 states: “The CGT groups together, outside of any political school, all workers aware of the struggle to be waged for the disappearance of wage labor and employers.”

^[5] Because it was adopted almost unanimously by the voters, the Amiens Declaration is often interpreted as the result of a prior compromise between revolutionaries and reformists aimed at countering the offensive of those advocating the subordination of the trade union to the socialist party. This near-unanimity, however, is more apparent than real: not only did nearly a hundred delegates abstain from voting, but, moreover, the reformists only rallied to it at the very last moment, for strategic reasons. Irritated by this last-minute maneuver, Pouget was to write shortly afterward that, “if the reformists had the ulterior motive of mitigating the revolutionary scope of this motion, they made a miscalculation” (Le Congrès syndicaliste d’Amiens, Éditions CNT-RP 2006, p. I 18).

I. “And I would add that I cannot conceive of trade unionism as anything other than absolutely autonomous. Consequently, I consider that it cannot affiliate itself with or subordinate itself to any party or sect.” (“Ambiguity dispelled!” L’Humanité, September 8, 1906.)

II. The first, The Foundations of Trade Unionism, was announced at the end of December 1903 by the confederation’s newspaper. The Union was featured in the issue of April 24 to May 1 ^, 1904. Finally, The Party of Labour appeared at the end of December 1905.

III. As much of the information contained in this brochure appears both in Le Parti du Travail and in the article devoted to the debates of the Bourges congress (see second part of this collection), we have opted not to incorporate this brochure into this volume, despite its undeniable interest.

Contrary to what one might read here and there, for example in the work of Professor Droz, who reserved the label “theorists of syndicalism” solely for intellectuals of the Socialist Movement (see PJ. Proudhon. 1809-1865, Librairie de « Pages Libres », 1909, p. 90), it is important to remember that, despite the interest of their writings, these intellectuals were merely accomplices of syndicalism, to which they contributed not a single new idea. However important the idea of ​​the “general strike” as a “social myth”—the great contribution of Georges Sorel—may be, it is foreign to the body of syndicalist doctrine.

See below, note II, pp. 107-108.

At the end of 1901, he had already given the Socialist Movement a long review of the confederation congress in Lyon.

It is this text which was taken up in 2006 by Éditions CNT-RR under its original title, in the already mentioned work Le Congrès syndicaliste d’Amiens.

^[6] This barb is directed against the Guesdists—in other words, the socialists of the faction led by Jules Guesde, the introducers of Marxism to France—who, worthy precursors of Leninism on this point and many others, considered trade unions to be a mere branch of the revolutionary party. They were undoubtedly the most resolute opponents, within the socialist camp, of revolutionary syndicalism, which they considered, moreover, to be “anarchist syndicalism,” a simple variant of anarchism.

^[7] Pouget and Griffuelhes would take up this theme again in a well-known passage of the “Charter” of Amiens – the name given a posteriori (from 1908) to the motion written by Pouget and Griffuelhes at the end of the CGT congress held in Amiens in October 1906 – where it is stated that “the trade union, today a resistance group, will be, in the future, the production and distribution group, the basis of social reorganization”.

^[8] Regarding the use of this expression, which was not coined by Pouget, see the historical details provided by Jean Maitron in his * Histoire du mouvement anarchiste en France* (volume I, Gallimard, 1992, pp. 322-323, note 169 [first published in 1951 by the Société universitaire d’édition et de librairie]). The trade unionist Alexandre Bourchet used it in his article “Le parti du Travail”. published in La Voix du Peuple (December 20-28, 1902, No. 111) and, well before that, in 1896, it was already found in a manifesto signed by the National Council of the CGT enjoining “all trade union organizations […] to make themselves represented at the Tours congress, so that, in these workers’ meetings, a true Labour Party may be founded, unified for the conquest of unrecognized rights” (report of the proceedings of the Tours congress. September 14-19, 1896. pp. 46-47).

^[9] This word is a neologism coined from the infinitive “s’acoquiner”.

^[10] In a lecture given at the School for Advanced Social Studies on the subject of the general strike, Vandervelde acknowledged the value of the methods of French revolutionary syndicalism: “It cannot be doubted that the overall favorable results of French syndicalist action are due, to a large extent, to the fact that this action is more revolutionary, that it translates, more frequently than in other countries, into acts of revolt, which intimidate employers or which push the government to exert action, more or less direct, on employers to force them to yield.” He nevertheless stated his conviction that these methods could not be “exportable products”: “Try to do in Germany, or even in England, what is done in France, and you will only achieve the result of implacable repression.” (The General Strike, Ghent, 1909, pp. 21-22.)

^[11] Vandervelde’s article had appeared on the occasion of a popular demonstration organized on August 15, 1906 in Brussels in favor of the reduction of working hours. Pouget had already used this same extract in the text “Workers’ Disunion”, published in La Voix du Peuple (August 19-26, 1906) shortly before the Amiens congress, at a time when the debate was raging around the proposal of the Guesdists of the North aimed at establishing permanent relations between the CGT and the S Fl O.

^[12] Knights errands.

^[13] Pouget is referring here to the increasing concentration of industries into large capitalist trusts, which would have the effect of gradually eliminating small industrialists in favor of the large bourgeoisie who own these trusts.

I. Pouget is referring here to Jules Guesde, who had published an article on “The Law of Wages and its Consequences” as early as 1878, which has been constantly reprinted ever since and supplemented, in 1881, with a response to objections raised by Clemenceau. Pouget had already attacked this idea a few years earlier, particularly in his Almanach du Père Peinard, in his characteristic style of those years: “It is constantly repeated that workers’ pay should never exceed the minimum necessary for existence… No, it is not the stomach that determines the wage rate: it is our biceps. If we are energetic, the boss is lenient and does not dare to cut wages and lengthen working hours.” (Almanach du Père Peinard, 1894, p. 54).

II. Almost a literal quote from a sentence by Guesde who, in “The Law of Wages and its Consequences”, wrote that “the average wage should not normally exceed the tantum necessary for the worker to be able to live and reproduce”.

^[14] The entire final section of this text is a reworking, with only minor revisions or additions of a few sentences, of the essay “The Characteristics of Direct Action,” which appeared in the Illustrated Almanac of the Revolution for the year 1909. These pages were written in Corbeil prison between August and October 1908, during Pouget’s imprisonment following the events at Villeneuve-Saint-Georges (see “The Characteristics of Direct Action,” Agone, 2005, no. 33, pp. II-15). For more on these events, see above, pp. 33-35.

^[15] Pouget’s criticism was directed at a proposal put forward by Jaurès during August and September 1908 in numerous articles (“Strike and Referendum,” “Strike and Universal Workers’ Suffrage,” “Revolutionary Spirit and Universal Workers’ Suffrage,” etc.) published in L’Humanité, which concerned the use of referendums in the event of strike action. This proposal immediately earned the socialist leader strong attacks from his detractors, particularly from certain writers for La Guerre sociale, such as André Bruckère, in an article entitled “Referendums for Strikes and Cauterizes for Wooden Legs” (August 26-September 1, ¹⁹⁰⁸ ), or Georges Yvetot* – who signed simply “Y” – in “Castration Referendum” (September 2-9, 1908).

I. Pouget is merely repeating arguments used here, under the cover of the propaganda commission of the general strike (CGT), in his 1901 polemic with Jaurès, which reinforces the idea that this response to Jaurès was the work of Pouget alone: ​​the two texts, “General Strike & Revolution” and “The Revolutionary General Strike. Response to Jaurès”, are reproduced in Dispossessing the Possessors (op. cit., pp. 111-127 and 128-145).

I. It was common practice in revolutionary circles to transform the name “faubourg Saint-Antoine” into “faubourg Antoine”.

^[16] As we shall see, the Book Workers’ Federation, led by Auguste Keufer, along with the Railway Workers’ Union, was the quintessential reformist federation. The Metalworkers’ Federation, led by Latapie*, Galantus, and Merrheim, for its part, represented one of the most resolutely revolutionary federations.

^[17] A word formed on the model of “votard”, which was used by Pouget and the libertarians to describe the supporters of parliamentary action.

^[18] We have corrected the original text which, by mistake, read “it may be that […] a majority […] takes the initiative”.

^[19] Line supra, note 11, p. 107.

^[20] The “Inquiry” Pouget refers to appeared in June, July, and September 1904 in * Le Mouvement socialiste*, before being republished in 1905 by Édouard Cornély under the title * La Grève générale et le socialisme*, with a foreword and general conclusion by Hubert Lagardelle. This international inquiry certainly gathered writings from the spokespeople of “general strikeism,” but it also gave a voice to some of its detractors, both French and foreign social democrats. Pouget contributed a lengthy essay on the history of the idea of ​​the general strike, a reproduction of which can be found in the collection * Déposséder les propres* (op. cit., pp. 49-65).

^[21] I. In one of the general assemblies of the Parisian printers’ union preceding the congress, an extraordinary assembly was convened to discuss sending a delegate to Bourges and the mandate to be given to him. The union council disregarded this decision; it did not call the general assembly and, on its own authority, sent a delegate to the congress. A protest against this procedure, signed by 158 members of the Paris section, reached the congress. [nda]

^[22] Allusion to the political commitment of the general secretary of the CGT, Victor Griffuelhes, who came from the ranks of Blanquism, like many founders of the Confederation.

^[23] The original text mistakenly read “that they have”.

^[24] This refers, strictly speaking, to the Knights of Labor, or more precisely the Noble and Holy Order of the Knights of Labor, a pre-union workers’ defense organization founded in 1869 in the United States by Terence Powderly, which drew inspiration from the Masonic model and the guilds. Operating secretly for nearly ten years, it experienced significant growth until 1886 and managed to gather more than 700,000 members: skilled and unskilled workers, farm laborers, but also artisans, small shopkeepers, farmers, and independent workers. The famous activist Mary Harris Jones, known as Mother Jones (1837-1930), was one of the best-known members of this organization. There was also an Order of the Knights of Labor in France, founded in 1893, which brought together many anarchist, socialist, and syndicalist activists. One of the great historians of the French labour movement, Maurice Dommanget, devoted a book to this organisation, La Chevalerie du travail française (1893-1911), published in 1967 by Rencontres, of Lausanne, and still unsurpassed.

^[25] See above, note I, p. 222.

^[26] A synonym, now obsolete, for “fear”.

^[27] Maurice Dommanget devotes a passage of his History of the First of May to the “great fear” of the propertied classes aroused by the May ^Day movement of 1906. We can read a corroboration of this “great fear” in the Memoirs of Countess Jean de Pange (How I Saw 1900. Confidences of a Young Girl, Grasset, 1956, Volume 2, pp. 229-231).

^[28] Same meaning as “reactionary”.

^[29] Pouget is referring here to the pseudo-anarcho-monarchist plot used by the authorities to imprison some militants of the Confederation on the eve of May 1, ^1906. According to Pierre Monatte, the invention of the “Plot” was the work of the newspaper Le Réveil du Nord, the organ of moderate socialism in the North, which saw it as a weapon against those it called the “Parisian anarcho-syndicalists” dispatched by the CGT after the Courrières disaster (see his intervention at the beginning of the Amiens congress in / 906. The Congress of the Charter of Amiens, op. cit, p. 211).

^[30] The so-called “villainous laws” were enacted during the anarchist attacks of the late 19th ^century , particularly after Vaillant threw a bomb into the Chamber of Deputies on December 9, 1893. There were three of them: the law of December 12, 1893, amending the law of July 29, 1881, on the press; the law of December 18 of the same year on criminal associations; and finally, the law of July 28, 1894, which aimed to repress “anarchist activities.” The first two were presented by the President of the Council, Casimir-Périer, and his Minister of Justice, Antonin Dubost. The third was presented, after the assassination of Sadi Carnot, by Charles Dupuy and Eugène Guérin. In the July 15, 1898 issue of La Revue blanche, Pouget devoted a long study to “the application of the exceptional laws of 1893-1894”. This text was reprinted in a small volume published a year later by Éditions de La Revue blanche, with an essay by the journalist Francis de Pressensé and one by an “anonymous jurist” (who was none other than Léon Blum), under the title Les Lois scélérates de 1893-1894 (reissued by Le Flibustier 2008).

[1] See, for example, the article “The savages in suits and ties” (Le Point, January 17, 2007, no. 1738). After expressing concern about the “rampant vandalism” of many employees in their workplace, the author of the article wondered whether these new “savages” in companies would follow “the advice of Émile Pouget, an anarchist syndicalist, whose work Le Sabotage, first published at the beginning of the 20th ^century , is experiencing a revival.”

[1] See, for example, the article “The savages in suits and ties” (Le Point, January 17, 2007, no. 1738). After expressing concern about the “rampant vandalism” of many employees in their workplace, the author of the article wondered whether these new “savages” in companies would follow “the advice of Émile Pouget, an anarchist syndicalist, whose work Le Sabotage, first published at the beginning of the 20th ^century , is experiencing a revival.”

[1] See, for example, the article “The savages in suits and ties” (Le Point, January 17, 2007, no. 1738). After expressing concern about the “rampant vandalism” of many employees in their workplace, the author of the article wondered whether these new “savages” in companies would follow “the advice of Émile Pouget, an anarchist syndicalist, whose work Le Sabotage, first published at the beginning of the 20th ^century , is experiencing a revival.”

[2] In doing so, both sides seem to endorse the absurd idea that Pouget – or, more generally, revolutionary syndicalism before 1914 – was somehow the “inventor” of a mode of action that obviously did not wait for the syndicalists of the Belle Époque to exist.

[2] In doing so, both sides seem to endorse the absurd idea that Pouget – or, more generally, revolutionary syndicalism before 1914 – was somehow the “inventor” of a mode of action that obviously did not wait for the syndicalists of the Belle Époque to exist.

[2] In doing so, both sides seem to endorse the absurd idea that Pouget – or, more generally, revolutionary syndicalism before 1914 – was somehow the “inventor” of a mode of action that obviously did not wait for the syndicalists of the Belle Époque to exist.

[3] It should be noted that Émile Pouget was born on October 12, 1860 in Pont-de-Salars, near Rodez. He died on July 21, 1931, in Lozère (municipality of Palaiseau, in the former department of Seine-et-Oise).

[3] It should be noted that Émile Pouget was born on October 12, 1860 in Pont-de-Salars, near Rodez. He died on July 21, 1931, in Lozère (municipality of Palaiseau, in the former department of Seine-et-Oise).

[3] It should be noted that Émile Pouget was born on October 12, 1860 in Pont-de-Salars, near Rodez. He died on July 21, 1931, in Lozère (municipality of Palaiseau, in the former department of Seine-et-Oise).

[4] All this information comes from the short biographical notice of Flax (Victor Méric) published in 1908 in the publication Les Hommes du jour.

[4] All this information comes from the short biographical notice of Flax (Victor Méric) published in 1908 in the publication Les Hommes du jour.

[4] All this information comes from the short biographical notice of Flax (Victor Méric) published in 1908 in the publication Les Hommes du jour.

[5] Read Félix Dubois, Le Péril anarchiste, Flammarion. 1894, p. 116. He was still a bookseller when he was arrested in March 1883, after the “meeting of the starving” at the Invalides, as evidenced by the note published in Le Révolté on June 23.

[5] Read Félix Dubois, Le Péril anarchiste, Flammarion. 1894, p. 116. He was still a bookseller when he was arrested in March 1883, after the “meeting of the starving” at the Invalides, as evidenced by the note published in Le Révolté on June 23.

[5] Read Félix Dubois, Le Péril anarchiste, Flammarion. 1894, p. 116. He was still a bookseller when he was arrested in March 1883, after the “meeting of the starving” at the Invalides, as evidenced by the note published in Le Révolté on June 23.

[5] Read Félix Dubois, Le Péril anarchiste, Flammarion. 1894, p. 116. He was still a bookseller when he was arrested in March 1883, after the “meeting of the starving” at the Invalides, as evidenced by the note published in Le Révolté on June 23.

[6] This is what he confided to Maurice Chambelland, one of Pierre Monatte’s close associates, shortly before dying (Émile Pouget, Ad Memoriam, La Publication sociale, 1931, p. 13).

[6] This is what he confided to Maurice Chambelland, one of Pierre Monatte’s close associates, shortly before dying (Émile Pouget, Ad Memoriam, La Publication sociale, 1931, p. 13).

[6] This is what he confided to Maurice Chambelland, one of Pierre Monatte’s close associates, shortly before dying (Émile Pouget, Ad Memoriam, La Publication sociale, 1931, p. 13).

[7] It was learned shortly afterwards, thanks to the Memoirs of Prefect Louis Andrieux, that it owed its short existence to the money distributed by one of its agents (see Souvenirs d’un préfet de police, tome I, Jules Rouff et Cie ^publishers , 1885, p. 337-344).

[7] It was learned shortly afterwards, thanks to the Memoirs of Prefect Louis Andrieux, that it owed its short existence to the money distributed by one of its agents (see Souvenirs d’un préfet de police, tome I, Jules Rouff et Cie ^publishers , 1885, p. 337-344).

[7] It was learned shortly afterwards, thanks to the Memoirs of Prefect Louis Andrieux, that it owed its short existence to the money distributed by one of its agents (see Souvenirs d’un préfet de police, tome I, Jules Rouff et Cie ^publishers , 1885, p. 337-344).

[8] It was Paul Delesalle, one of those many libertarians who came to trade unionism at the end of the 19th ^century , who made this judgment in the article “The militant life of Émile Pouget”, reproduced in the small volume Émile Pouget, Ad Memoriam, op. cit.

[8] It was Paul Delesalle, one of those many libertarians who came to trade unionism at the end of the 19th ^century , who made this judgment in the article “The militant life of Émile Pouget”, reproduced in the small volume Émile Pouget, Ad Memoriam, op. cit.

[8] It was Paul Delesalle, one of those many libertarians who came to trade unionism at the end of the 19th ^century , who made this judgment in the article “The militant life of Émile Pouget”, reproduced in the small volume Émile Pouget, Ad Memoriam, op. cit.

[9] Égide Spilleux, his real name, often identified as the agent of the police prefect who had succeeded, as we have seen above, in infiltrating La Révolution sociale.

[9] Égide Spilleux, his real name, often identified as the agent of the police prefect who had succeeded, as we have seen above, in infiltrating La Révolution sociale.

[9] Égide Spilleux, his real name, often identified as the agent of the police prefect who had succeeded, as we have seen above, in infiltrating La Révolution sociale.

[10] It was on this same day that Louise Michel first displayed the black flag, “improvised, says Maurice Dommanget, with a broom handle and an old petticoat” (Histoire du drapeau rouge, Le Mot et le reste, 2006, p. 208), which would soon compete with the red flag within anarchist groups.

[10] It was on this same day that Louise Michel first displayed the black flag, “improvised, says Maurice Dommanget, with a broom handle and an old petticoat” (Histoire du drapeau rouge, Le Mot et le reste, 2006, p. 208), which would soon compete with the red flag within anarchist groups.

[10] It was on this same day that Louise Michel first displayed the black flag, “improvised, says Maurice Dommanget, with a broom handle and an old petticoat” (Histoire du drapeau rouge, Le Mot et le reste, 2006, p. 208), which would soon compete with the red flag within anarchist groups.

[11] Information taken from the anarchist newspaper Le Révolté. July 7, 1883. The tone of this anti-militarist pamphlet—entitled To the Army and apparently written by Pouget and Digeon—can be judged from the following extract concerning the “means to be employed by soldiers resolved on revolution, whatever their number”: “1. ^At the first news of the insurrection, each revolutionary soldier must set fire to the barracks where he is stationed. […] 2. In the midst of the confusion that will necessarily occur as soon as the fire has spread, it will be necessary to incite the revolt and strike the officers mercilessly until not one remains standing.”

[11] Information taken from the anarchist newspaper Le Révolté. July 7, 1883. The tone of this anti-militarist pamphlet—entitled To the Army and apparently written by Pouget and Digeon—can be judged from the following extract concerning the “means to be employed by soldiers resolved on revolution, whatever their number”: “1. ^At the first news of the insurrection, each revolutionary soldier must set fire to the barracks where he is stationed. […] 2. In the midst of the confusion that will necessarily occur as soon as the fire has spread, it will be necessary to incite the revolt and strike the officers mercilessly until not one remains standing.”

[11] Information taken from the anarchist newspaper Le Révolté. July 7, 1883. The tone of this anti-militarist pamphlet—entitled To the Army and apparently written by Pouget and Digeon—can be judged from the following extract concerning the “means to be employed by soldiers resolved on revolution, whatever their number”: “1. ^At the first news of the insurrection, each revolutionary soldier must set fire to the barracks where he is stationed. […] 2. In the midst of the confusion that will necessarily occur as soon as the fire has spread, it will be necessary to incite the revolt and strike the officers mercilessly until not one remains standing.”

[12] Le Ça ira, no. 3, June 24, 1888.

[12] Le Ça ira, no. 3, June 24, 1888.

[12] Le Ça ira, no. 3, June 24, 1888.

[13] In his beautiful book The Banners of Revolt: Anarchism, Literature and the Anticolonial Imagination (La Découverte, 2005, p. 188), Benedict Anderson recalls that “most of the great Parisian novelists, poets and painters were then [in 1889] faithful readers” of La Révolte.

[13] In his beautiful book The Banners of Revolt: Anarchism, Literature and the Anticolonial Imagination (La Découverte, 2005, p. 188), Benedict Anderson recalls that “most of the great Parisian novelists, poets and painters were then [in 1889] faithful readers” of La Révolte.

[13] In his beautiful book The Banners of Revolt: Anarchism, Literature and the Anticolonial Imagination (La Découverte, 2005, p. 188), Benedict Anderson recalls that “most of the great Parisian novelists, poets and painters were then [in 1889] faithful readers” of La Révolte.

[14] The trial of the Thirty began on August 6, 1894, just a few weeks after the anarchist Caserio’s assassination attempt against President Sadi Carnot. The leading figures of militant anarchism were in the dock, accused of “criminal conspiracy”.

[14] The trial of the Thirty began on August 6, 1894, just a few weeks after the anarchist Caserio’s assassination attempt against President Sadi Carnot. The leading figures of militant anarchism were in the dock, accused of “criminal conspiracy”.

[15] Some of these contributors sometimes sign with their name or initials, while others use pseudonyms, such as the tireless Père Barbassou, author of “La Babillarde d’un campluchard [Propos d’un paysan]” (The Ramblings of a Peasant), who, under his real name, Henri Beaujardin, would follow Pouget to La Voix du Peuple. The art critic and writer Félix Fénéon, future editor-in-chief of the elegant Revue blanche, is among the (occasional) contributors to Père Peinard, with four articles published in the spring of 1893: “Balade chez les artisses indépendants” (April 9 and 16) and “Chez les barbouilleurs” (April 30 and May 14), written in the finest style of the publication.

[15] Some of these contributors sometimes sign with their name or initials, while others use pseudonyms, such as the tireless Père Barbassou, author of “La Babillarde d’un campluchard [Propos d’un paysan]” (The Ramblings of a Peasant), who, under his real name, Henri Beaujardin, would follow Pouget to La Voix du Peuple. The art critic and writer Félix Fénéon, future editor-in-chief of the elegant Revue blanche, is among the (occasional) contributors to Père Peinard, with four articles published in the spring of 1893: “Balade chez les artisses indépendants” (April 9 and 16) and “Chez les barbouilleurs” (April 30 and May 14), written in the finest style of the publication.

[15] Some of these contributors sometimes sign with their name or initials, while others use pseudonyms, such as the tireless Père Barbassou, author of “La Babillarde d’un campluchard [Propos d’un paysan]” (The Ramblings of a Peasant), who, under his real name, Henri Beaujardin, would follow Pouget to La Voix du Peuple. The art critic and writer Félix Fénéon, future editor-in-chief of the elegant Revue blanche, is among the (occasional) contributors to Père Peinard, with four articles published in the spring of 1893: “Balade chez les artisses indépendants” (April 9 and 16) and “Chez les barbouilleurs” (April 30 and May 14), written in the finest style of the publication.

[16] Le Père Peinard, no. 1, February 24, 1889.

[16] Le Père Peinard, no. 1, February 24, 1889.

[16] Le Père Peinard, no. 1, February 24, 1889.

[17] Le Père Peinard. November 3, 1889, no. 36, p. 3.

[17] Le Père Peinard. November 3, 1889, no. 36, p. 3.

[17] Le Père Peinard. November 3, 1889, no. 36, p. 3.

[18] Le Père Peinard, January 12, 1890, no. 45, p. 9.

[18] Le Père Peinard, January 12, 1890, no. 45, p. 9.

[18] Le Père Peinard, January 12, 1890, no. 45, p. 9.