Anarchism frightens people as much as it fascinates them. Because anarchism has already destabilized states and inspired the assassinations of kings and military leaders; because anarchism is the love of freedom, the dream of emancipation for all, the end of wars and armies, the end of the exploitation of humans by humans, it is that rebellious force that refuses to be confined, constrained, or controlled. A profoundly anti-authoritarian movement that seeks to do away with leaders, the anarchist ideal stands in direct opposition to the system in which we currently live, yet it is by no means impervious to it. Influenced by its era and its environment, anarchism is shaped by various currents and its own internal tensions. However, it must be acknowledged that, in France today, anarchism is no longer on the rise. In the 1990s, Murray Bookchin, an American anarchist, warned: "...the revolutionary and social goals of anarchism are suffering far-reaching erosion to a point where the word anarchy will become part of the chic bourgeois vocabulary of the coming century — naughty, rebellious, insouciant, but deliciously safe."
In his book Social Anarchism or Lifestyle Anarchism: An Unbridgeable Chasm, Bookchin criticized the rise of a kind of “folklorized” anarchism, one stripped of its substance and revolutionary goals, retaining only its aesthetic, spectacular, and individualistic aspects. Indeed, what better way is there to render a movement harmless than to capitalize on its aesthetics while stripping it of its revolutionary aspirations?
Others besides Bookchin have warned against bourgeois excesses or against the forms of oppression that these excesses perpetuated within the movement.
In the 1990s, the African-American anarchist Lorenzo Kom’boa Ervin also pointed out the excesses within the anarchist movement, which was becoming more of a counter-cultural movement composed primarily of white middle-class people than a revolutionary movement.
In 1936, the anarchist-feminists of Mujeres Libres were fighting and organizing against patriarchal influences and violence within the anarchist movement.
And in 1914, Luigi Fabbri, an Italian anarchist, denounced bourgeois influences on anarchism, particularly those coming from cultural circles: "For these artists and writers, the beauty of the gesture takes the place of social utility, with which they don't concern themselves. So, they've idealized the figure of the anarchist dynamiter because even in its most tragic manifestations it presents undeniable characteristics of originality and attractiveness. This literary and artistic idealization has exercised its influence among many anarchists, who, for lack of knowledge, or unfamiliarity with reason and logic, or by temperament, have taken it as propagation of ideas even though it's nothing more than an artistic manifestation."
The opening ceremony of the 2024 Olympic Games, the quintessential showcase of capitalism and nationalism, where Louise Michel was “celebrated”, is a recent example of this.
Revolutionary symbols transformed into a harmless aesthetic by the Parisian art scene in the presence of heads of state complicit in the worst military atrocities, this is how anarchism is stripped of its political power.
The “start-up nation” is a way of thinking, a way of viewing the world and forging connections. It influences our struggles, our communal spaces, and our relationships. But while it is true that a bourgeois framework diverts anarchism from its original purpose, “petty-bourgeois” and “liberal” can also be convenient insults used to discredit an argument and win a debate. Lenin himself used the term “petty-bourgeois” to (dis)qualify anarchists. That is why we felt it was important to redefine what these “liberal deviations” are and how to identify them.
Introduction
Liberal, libertarian [libertaire, a synonym of anarchiste in French or anarchist in English], libertarian [libertarien in French, referring to what is commonly known as "American libertarianism"]: three words, the same root… but that’s where the comparison ends.
The first thing to clarify is the differences between these three concepts.
The liberal system, first and foremost, is characterized by limited government intervention, with the state performing sovereign functions (justice, police, military) and acting as a social arbiter, while supporting the market economy and the free establishment of businesses. It emphasizes individual freedom, private property, and free competition.
Over time, liberalism has evolved and transformed, particularly in response to the social unrest of the 1930s, which made it necessary to protect the weakened economic and political system. We must therefore reassess the role of the state as the primary instrument for defending market rules. This is what some people refer to as “neoliberalism”, that is, placing the state directly at the service of capitalism. The economy remains central to social organization: the rules of capitalism form the framework for the rules of social life, and neoliberal policy governs society as a whole.
Some even use the term “authoritarian neoliberalism” to describe certain political regimes. In other words, in addition to the characteristics of classical (neo)liberalism, there is increased repression of social movements or popular protests, as well as the restriction of freedoms to uphold these policies and the legitimization of inequalities as necessary for competitiveness and economic efficiency.
In France, Macron pursues a neoliberal policy, that is, a liberal right-wing policy combined with strong state intervention. Macron is the champion of the “start-up nation,” with a market economy centered on free enterprise and competition, yet at the same time featuring very strong social control and the perpetuation of inequality as the foundation of society.
To sum up, we live in an authoritarian capitalist system in which the state exercises socio-economic control, with an all-powerful market economy and individuals who can find fulfillment only through work, consumption, and production. Both individuals and the state are at the service of all-powerful capitalism.
The libertarian movement, on the other hand, goes even further: it advocates a minimal role for the state, or even its abolition, in favor of an unrestricted economy and individual freedom above all else. The state’s sovereign functions are carried out by private agencies.
Libertarian ideas, influenced by Murray Rothbard, who developed the concept of anarcho-capitalism, and Ayn Rand, the founder of Objectivism, are gaining traction today. The most recent example is undoubtedly Javier Milei in Argentina. Elon Musk and Jeff Bezos also regularly promote these ideas.
Although libertarianism and anarcho-capitalism may share a common etymology with anarchism, the two movements are opposed to one another.
Anarchism, while it does advocate for the end of the state, also advocates for the end of private property, the labor theory of value, and privileges.
Even individualist anarchism, which might, perhaps, overlap with libertarianism, does not advocate the use of private authorities to replace sovereign functions, but rather the free association of individuals.
Some people deliberately perpetuate confusion and try to portray anarchism as something it is not: an ideology without rules or any form of organization, in which individual freedom is central and stands in opposition to the collective and equality.
Pascal Praud, a well-known far-right columnist, told Le Parisien: “They’re making me out to be a reactionary, when I’m actually more of an anarchist. I love freedom above all else.” He went on to confirm in another interview with the same newspaper:
“I have a bit of an anarchist streak: I’m right-wing when I’m with left-wing people, and left-wing when I’m with right-wing people. And I have a hard time with all these rules that keep piling up.”
This confusion regarding the definition of anarchism, which has been reduced to “everyone does what they want”, is deliberately exploited by our political enemies. The problem is that this confusion is also found within our own circles.
However, the definition of freedom differs greatly between the liberal/libertarian view and that of anarchists.
“The freedom of liberals is that of isolated individuals, cast into a hostile world. Resistant to any notion of equality, these ‘king-like’ individuals view the institution of the state among themselves as a necessary evil, erecting walls between themselves to prevent them from killing one another [...] It is the freedom of an individual-consumer who believes himself to be all-powerful.”
Conversely:
“For anarchists, freedom is necessarily social, not private. To be exercised, it requires the economic, social, and political equality of individuals. This real equality enables the real exercise of freedom, which is not merely a word but a practice. Freedom is made up of connections, not of severing ties with the world.”
But while anarchism advocates for freedom that is inseparable from equality for all, liberalism advocates for individual freedom at the expense of equality.
The liberal demands freedom for oneself; the anarchist demands freedom for all!
Throughout this pamphlet, the term “liberal” will refer to “that which stems from liberalism” (and, by extension, from neoliberalism) to identify liberal deviations within activist circles. By this we mean discourses and practices that, while they may appear to align with anarchist theory, are in reality inspired by economic liberalism, and thus by a certain form of liberal individualism, the defense of private property, the commodification of the world, competition, and the labor theory of value. We have identified three main deviations that are found in all revolutionary movements but seem particularly dangerous when they affect anarchists.
No. 1: Anarcho-Populism in the Service of Social Democracy
a) Populism as a Vision
While social democracy may once have inspired hope in Marx and Lenin for a radical transformation of society, anarchists have long known that this is not the case.
The first pitfall to avoid is believing that social democracy is the only system capable of opposing capitalism or that it is a necessary step toward revolution. Social democracy is not our friend, and there is no such thing as “liberalism with a human face.”
As long as there are governments and nations, emancipation will not be possible. The electoral farce that unfolded this summer of 2024 proved to us, once again, the trap of “participatory democracy.” The system does not need to be regulated or reformed; it needs to be radically changed. And that begins with keeping a revolutionary force free from reformist, electoralist, civic-centered, and/or populist frameworks.
Yet today, within anarchist circles, we are increasingly witnessing a relativism regarding social democracy, to the point, at times, of tolerating reformist or even reactionary rhetoric. We are seeing the resurgence of debates around sovereignty, the defense of identity, nations, and borders. But anti-capitalism is not emancipatory if the critique of capital is used to defend a nation, a national identity, or even reformism. For example, the struggle against foreign financial markets reflects a desire for nationalist protectionism. We must clearly distinguish between a critique of capitalism as a deadly system and a critique of capitalism in its current form, which, it is claimed, merely needs to be regulated or reformed in the name of defending the economy or the French people.
In his book "The Mask and the Flag: Populism, Citizenism, and Global Protests", Paolo Gerbaudo explores the potential connection between anarchism and populism.
He cites as an example the public square occupation movements of the 2000s, such as Nuit Debout, which, in their self-organized and horizontal structure, resemble anarchism but, in their demands, lean toward populism. This is particularly true regarding the issue of sovereignty:
“Whereas horizontality affirms the idea of participation among equal individuals without leaders, sovereignty expresses the vertical necessity of the unity of the people and their control over and through the state.”
He refers to this blend of anarchist practices and populist demands as “anarcho-populism.” Take, for example, the recent movement against pension reform, during which elected officials’ offices were attacked under the slogan “the motion or the cobblestone,” in the hope of pressuring the National Assembly’s vote. Or, more recently, the spontaneous demonstrations of July 2024, when all attention was focused on the elections and the NFP’s victory. The Yellow Vests movement also succumbed to populism, and demands centered on the RIC came to overshadow the more revolutionary ones.
Anarchist practices and direct action are used to defend social democracy, thereby blurring the lines with reformist rhetoric.
Revolutionary anti-capitalist demands are replaced by a rejection of the world of finance and the plutocracy. Demands for the abolition of the state are replaced by anti-elitist, anti-corporate rhetoric. Nationalism (or international patriotism) then becomes a bulwark against international finance.
Populism does not reject the state; it seeks to regulate it and eliminate the oligarchy, replacing it with a group of sovereign citizens.
This is LFI’s anti-establishment rhetoric, which is sometimes championed in anarchist circles. It is even encouraged by some whose goal is to win local elections or to “govern the revolution.”
The problem is that left-wing populism overlaps with right-wing populism. Gramsci’s influence and his concepts of hegemony and the cultural struggle can be found among both left-wing and far-right theorists.
It would also be wrong to deny the influence of the discourse of the national revolutionaries. One need only look at Soral’s influence in certain so-called revolutionary movements and the lack of reaction to the recognition of one of the worst far-right ideologues as a credible theorist.
You don't fight the far-right and its supporters by stepping on their turf.
The unveiling of Pierre-Edouard Stérin's “Périclès” project
, a French libertarian and billionaire, shows us that, in the tradition of Rothbard and Rand, the issues debated even within the revolutionary left are precisely those championed by the far right.
The Overton window, which the far-right in France is continually expanding, has shifted the focus toward reactionary issues, and we are struggling to maintain a clear ideological line and a coherent revolutionary vision.
As political lines shift, the range of possibilities seems to be narrowing. The ongoing ecological catastrophe, the massacres and endless wars, widespread surveillance aided by AI, and so on, leave little room today for a bright future. And the further the hope for radical change recedes, the more certain people seem to cling to the branches of social democracy, which may seem a more accessible horizon than that of revolution.
b) Citizenship as a means of action:
“Citizen” means a person who enjoys civil and political rights in the state to which he or she belongs, including the right to vote.
Before the French Revolution, it was the “bourgeoisie” who enjoyed civil rights. The concept of “citizen” emerged during the French Revolution, from which women were excluded. In the early days of the Revolution, foreigners residing in France were eligible for citizenship, but the rule changed quickly, and French nationality became an essential requirement for obtaining the status of a French citizen.
This strong link between French nationality and citizenship persists under the Fifth Republic. The French state has the power to marginalize anyone deemed not French enough or not a good enough citizen to be granted rights. Hence the debates and issues surrounding the revocation of nationality and the “right of blood,” which are championed by the far-right.
It is the state that determines who has rights in society, which serves to justify racist rhetoric (the criminalization of OQTF orders), patriarchal rhetoric (access to changes in civil status), and ableist rhetoric (people under legal guardianship have had the right to vote only since 2019), etc.
Citizenism opposes the state on the grounds that it does not play by the rules of social democracy. As a result, it positions the state as a legitimate partner and social democracy as a viable model in need of reform. To move beyond citizenism is to stop viewing the state as a mediator between us and an emancipatory life, and instead see it as a comprehensive system that must be overthrown.
The COVID crisis has shown that it is very difficult to establish a system of self-defense in the health sector outside the state apparatus. The conflicts that the pandemic has sparked within activist circles have highlighted this difficulty in defending oneself outside the state without falling into the most crass conspiracy theories or anti-scientific obscurantism.
Given the omnipotence we attribute to the state, it becomes the guarantor of our rights and, therefore, of our survival. And we don’t bite the hand that feeds us. It is this constant tension between our immediate survival and our revolutionary ideal that drives us.
That is the very complexity of our struggles: we live within, and are dependent on, the system we want to destroy. It’s like sawing off the branch we’re sitting on, and even though we know that this branch is uncomfortable and will eventually give way, it protects us from the void and the unknown. Our safety net is to start building solidarity and practices outside the state right now, to break free from this alienation. Because we don’t want a slice of the cake, we want to blow up the whole bakery!
c) Moralism as a compass:
Citizenism rests on another shaky pillar: moralism. In philosophy, moralism places moral value above all other concerns. Moralism in this sense is convenient because it allows us to simplify complex issues. We need only view things in terms of “good” and “evil.” Thus, doing “good” brings personal gratification. For our part, it is not a matter of campaigning to earn some place in a metaphorical paradise, but of fighting capitalism with concrete tools here and now.
The danger is that the system itself sets the standard for morality, and moralism can be used as a tool to keep citizens on the straight and narrow path of legality and social control.
As anarchists, we do not reject moral values in and of themselves, which are necessary for any society, but we do reject moralism and its dictates, which are based on a biased standard where the state and its judicial system are the ones handing out rewards. For example, the state considers stealing to be immoral, yet it is perfectly acceptable for bailiffs to evict families.
Interpretive frameworks that are guided solely by moral imperatives are humanitarian acts, not revolutionary ones.
Charity and humanitarian work are based on similar principles: “doing good” without questioning or seeking to understand the root causes of the injustices they claim to alleviate. These practices often aim to maintain social peace and ease the guilt of those who engage in them. They allow people to avoid confronting their own responsibility or powerlessness while ignoring the mechanisms that enable these inequalities.
Similarly, “white saviorism”, which, under the guise of anti-racism, often draws on colonial tropes to “save” victims of racism, yet rarely examines the deep-rooted causes of racism or how it manifests, instead essentializes, fetishizes, or oversimplifies complex power dynamics.
Relying exclusively on moralism and charity does not lead to revolutionary visions, but rather contributes to a form of fetishization, essentialization, and even dehumanization of those whom the system exploits.
We do not want to “save” or “be saved,” but rather to forge revolutionary bonds of solidarity in our quest for emancipation.
No. 2: Anarcho-Therapy: From Self-Management to the Startup Nation
a) Be your own boss! :
The liberal view of freedom, which places the all-powerful individual at the center, creates self-centered frameworks for understanding the world. The world is viewed solely through a cult of “me, myself, and I,” in which society must satisfy immediate and paramount desires. This is the principle of Ayn Rand’s Objectivist philosophy, praised by libertarianism, which positions the individual as the sole master of his or her own happiness within a triumphant capitalist system.
Where anarchists see freedom for all as emancipatory and free from exploitation, liberal freedom sees it as the right to be one’s own boss; as the power to transform oneself and, in doing so, to govern oneself. The rise of liberal influence brings, in addition to state control, an internalized form of control. Basically, “we are our own police.” It is the “uberization” of social control.
In a liberal society, the individual is a self-employed enterprise in his or her own right, and individual freedom is transformed into a market share that must be invested in.
The result: we can only rely on ourselves, at the expense of collective solidarity. As Murray Bookchin put it: "The ego, identified almost fetishistically as the locus of emancipation, turns out to be identical to the ‘sovereign individual’ of laissez-faire individualism."
Liberal freedom boils down to a series of options from which to choose, the most desirable… or the least worst! This is the myth of participatory democracy. In a recent study, researcher Sophia Rosenfeld laments that such an approach "potentially blame[s] individuals for the bad choices they make, when, of course, the options all of us can choose from are very different depending on our horizons [socioeconomic background]. The idea that everybody should be responsible for all the consequences of their own choices is a potentially merciless way to think about human life. But even more, too much stock in individual choice diminishes our ability and even our energy for collective decisions about the greater good [public interest]..."
The inequalities we face are blamed on us as the result of poor individual choices. In a society where our choices are limited, this meritocracy marginalizes and harms many people. But the anger generated by this exclusion must be addressed not with the system as a whole, but with oneself. We must come to terms with exploitation, transform it, and move beyond it. This is the famous “resilience” advocated by Macron.
Class struggle, for example, is an issue that is becoming less and less prominent, since “class” is sold to us as a category that can be transcended. We are led to believe that the CEO is no longer an adversary but a role model to emulate, a symbol of success. The old antagonisms of capitalism are becoming less and less apparent as liberalism evolves. Work should no longer be seen as a constraint but as a choice and a stepping stone to happiness.
It’s no longer about abolishing work but about integrating it into our lives as a key component of happiness. Chief happiness officer, team building, coworking: anything goes when it comes to replacing the language of exploitation with cool, fun terminology. Work, the quintessential site of exploitation, is transformed, thanks to a few Anglicisms (and the complicity of certain unions), into a place of transformation and emancipation. The class struggle ends where team building begins. It’s no surprise that this belief has also taken hold within part of the revolutionary movement. Criticism of work has shifted to focus on improving working conditions rather than on abolishing work itself. Protecting workers does not prevent us from criticizing wage labor as a system of alienation.
This transformation in work relationships is also evident among activists, who are becoming career-focused “entrepreneurs of the struggle.” We’re seeing a semantic shift, such as so-called radical movements that “recruit volunteers” or seek to “strengthen their team” to avoid “activist burnout.” Or zines that have “publishing directors.” “Activist work” is becoming a full-fledged paid job where teams must be “managed” by directors to avoid ending up with activist burnout.
This kind of corporate rhetoric, which one might expect from the electoral left (which, after all, does have something to sell), is more troubling coming from anarchists.
b) Personal development and individual aspirations:
This liberal perspective is reflected in interpretive frameworks that prioritize individualism at the expense of a collective analysis of structures of oppression.
This is evident in the liberal excesses of “identity politics.” Theorized, among others, by the Combahee River Collective, which held that "...the only people who care enough about us to work consistently for our liberation are us. [...] This focusing upon our own oppression is embodied in the concept of identity politics. We believe that the most profound and potentially most radical politics come directly out of our own identity, as opposed to working to end somebody else's oppression."
We no longer fight for revolution but for the right to be exploiters just like everyone else. To echo Bookchin’s critique: “We must change ourselves without changing the world.”
Power dynamics are fragmented into a myriad of individual and personal struggles, with the risk that these struggles will compete with one another.
As a logical extension of these liberal tendencies, the struggle becomes a space for personal development, and political actions become forms of therapy. In fact, this is sometimes what certain activists call for, as they believe that the struggle should, above all, be a space for healing that serves their needs.
The problem with the individualistic perspective is that it does not allow for a proper analysis of the structural and material causes of state violence and perpetuates a certain degree of confusion. By focusing exclusively on individual feelings without any other form of analysis, we risk falling into subjectivism and relativism, where “the only truth is what I feel.”
Just like conspiracy theories, personal development simplifies the complexity of power dynamics. On one hand, it involves an imagined external entity (the Jewish lobby, the New World Order, the Great Replacement, the LGBT lobby, etc.); on the other, it involves an internal entity to be developed or transformed: oneself and only oneself (“me, myself, and I”).
Believing that an imagined external entity controls the world is part of the same rhetoric as believing that change can only come from within oneself. It is no coincidence that certain personal development practices are prone to veering into conspiracy theories or cult-like behavior. And we are already familiar with the overlap between radical circles and conspiracy theories, and, at times, the excessive tolerance shown toward the latter.
To avoid falling into a caricatured opposite, this is not to say that the individual bears no responsibility or must make no personal effort regarding the perpetuation of systems of domination, or that the feelings arising from oppression and the accounts of them should be dismissed without a second thought. Health, care, and well-being are not merely liberal concerns. Rejecting these issues outright is just as dangerous as elevating them to a framework for interpretation or an absolute goal. Power structures have very real consequences (psychological, social, political); refusing to acknowledge them prevents us from adapting our strategies for resistance. But seeking to combat only the consequences without addressing the causes leads to dead ends or even counterrevolutionary scams.
c) Collective powerlessness:
Hannah Arendt warned that the absence of a sense of community and connections to others is the first step toward totalitarianism. Isolation is a dead end and the result of collective failures when the pursuit of a common goal is undermined.
In an individualistic, hierarchical, and authoritarian Western society where the collective is limited to the workplace and/or the private sphere, self-management and the collective are certainly the hardest things to imagine. Because it’s not so easy to do away with bosses and the allure of power, successfully organizing collectively and horizontally is a major challenge.
From a liberal perspective, the collective can quickly become a tool in the service of individual ambitions. It is no longer about shaping new, livable horizons for everyone, but about ensuring that the world bends to our immediate desires. It is no longer about acting, thinking, and fighting together toward a common goal, but about demanding a personal position of power, individual gratification, and recognition.
Failing to recognize, outside the sphere of the “I,” the issues that affect others inevitably leads to rendering invisible or denying what does not directly concern us. How many specific movements (anti-racist, feminist, anti-speciesist, etc.) have fallen into the trap of pointing out the lack of consideration given to certain issues, while doing exactly the same thing to others? Or else, they address these issues merely as a performance to gain personal benefits.
We’ve already discussed the “knights of anti-racism” who buy themselves a moral high ground on the cheap without taking a genuine interest in revolutionary anti-racist struggles, sometimes coming across more like activist tourists in search of something exotic.
But we can also point to those activists who use their collective to further their own personal ambitions.
Those who fill their LinkedIn profiles with their “activist work,” who sign flyers or brochures with their first and last names, disregarding any collective strategy of anonymity. The opportunists who take advantage of spaces of struggle to sell their books and merchandise; the fair-weather activists who shift their political stance with the whims of trends and buzz, always seeking to stay on trend but never heading in the right direction. Those who use the struggle as a springboard for a career (in politics, civil society, etc.). These influencers who normalize the starification of struggles. In short, practices that strip revolutionary goals of their substance and reduce them to a profit-driven perspective. This brings us dangerously close to Bookchin’s observation: "Today, what passes for anarchism in America and increasingly in Europe is little more than an introspective personalism that denigrates responsible social commitment; an encounter group variously renamed a ‘collective’ or an ‘affinity group’; a state of mind that arrogantly derides structure, organization, and public involvement; and a playground for juvenile antics."
Today, there are activists and even entire collectives who call themselves anarchists but who, in reality, stray from anarchism and disregard its entire history, principles, and practices.
Today, you can call yourself an anarchist even if you support the NPA or are a fan of Mélenchon; you can call yourself an anarchist even if you reject any and all criticism of the electoral system outright; you can call yourself a libertarian communist and endorse conservative reactionaries; you can call yourself an anarchist even if you defend nations and borders. Anarchism is nothing more than a self-declared identity, a badge to wear to look cool. After all, if nothing makes sense anymore, why bother trying to define common political goals?
Concepts become malleable and adaptable depending on how they are perceived, but above all depending on how they can serve certain narratives and interests. Take, for example, Praud, who calls himself an anarchist, or Bardella, who says he isn’t a racist.
This form of confusionism and relativism is bound to undermine anarchism and destroy the prospect of collective solidarity. This political inconsistency prevents the development of the trust necessary for the collective and breeds constant mistrust.
The lack of trust and a shared political vision leads to the erosion of a genuine revolutionary force and its effectiveness.
No. 3: Anarchism-washing and the Struggles Over Commodities
a) Competition in the activist [militant] market:
In everyday language, competition refers to the rivalry among individuals for access to a position, a reward, a service, or an object.
In liberal economics, competition refers to the rivalry among economic actors who seek to attract customers by offering products or services and to gain market share in the same market by selling identical or similar goods. Competition is thus a contest among producers to capture consumer demand.
Today, competition is the central pillar of the market, and individuals have incorporated a model of behavior and relationships based on competition into every aspect of their lives. It is, therefore, an economic and social necessity. Anything collective is seen as an obstacle to competition because, in order to achieve the goal of individual happiness in the market, one must be competitive, first and foremost with oneself (“being the best version of oneself”), but also, and above all, with others.
In activist circles, this competition plays out on an individual level for positions of power and, at times, on a larger scale, between different groups and specific causes.
The problem with specific contemporary struggles (anti-speciesism, environmentalism, anti-racism, feminism, etc.) is that they are often not tied to any particular ideological current. From the Maoist-inspired Black Panthers to the anarchist-feminists of Bolivia’s Mujeres Creando, certain specific struggles are part of a desire to either draw inspiration from or integrate into specific ideological currents while maintaining their autonomy.
In France in 2025, specific struggles that are directly or indirectly linked to an ideological current are becoming increasingly rare. And even those that claim to be associated with such a current are often very far removed from it in their rhetoric and practices (and, in the process, contribute to stripping anarchism of its substance).
Specific struggles help us contribute to a broader goal by adding fuel to the fire of the revolution. Being a feminist isn’t enough; being anti-racist or an environmentalist isn’t enough, and so on.
However, certain specific struggles seem to drift through history, limiting themselves to demanding inclusion in the existing social order rather than radically challenging power structures and fundamental inequalities.
By occasionally granting rights, the state solidifies its role as protector. In the process, it incorporates identities that until then might have threatened to destabilize the established order, while seeking to exploit them (mostly for racist and Islamophobic purposes). And now we find ourselves with the first far-right gay collective!
The trap, into which many have fallen, is to discuss a struggle solely from the perspective of its instrumentalization and to position oneself only “in reaction” to the state’s positions, as if in a mirror image.
For example, if we limit ourselves to discussing feminism solely to denounce its exploitation for racist purposes without analyzing the hetero-patriarchal structure and how it intertwines with other forms of oppression, then we leave a void that our political enemies rush into to exploit it further. Stopping the struggle on feminist issues from a revolutionary perspective allows them to be stripped of their substance, assimilated, co-opted, exploited, and pitted against one another.
The state kills two birds with one stone: by pretending to be progressive, it maintains an acceptable image of social democracy while keeping power structures intact. This leads some activists to reduce feminism to a white bourgeois struggle, erasing the possibility of understanding it as a struggle for radical emancipation for everyone. Thus, not only is the feminist struggle neutralized, but it is done so under the guise of anti-capitalism or anti-racism.
This rhetoric of competition, which invokes progressive discourse to justify the oppression of another social group, is what North Americans call the “clash of rights.” For example, the idea that the rights of transgender people threaten the rights of cisgender women is based on the notion that there are opposing interests that must be fought for simultaneously, the rights of cisgender women and transgender people, even though misogyny and transphobia share common roots.
The fact that feminism is exploited or co-opted by the bourgeoisie should not discredit it as a whole. On the contrary, it underscores the need to draw clear lines between liberal deviations and the revolution.
This pitting of different forms of feminism against one another also has its roots in far-right masculinism. Soral described feminists as “left-wing bourgeois women […], who, thanks to the complacency of economic powers always eager to employ diversionary tactics, have managed to substitute a fantasized battle of the sexes for the very real class struggle, thereby robbing workers of their sole source of prestige: the moral prestige of the oppressed.”
Similarly, Soral justifies his anti-Semitism as anti-capitalism. By compiling all the racist stereotypes about Jews who control the financial world and pull the strings behind the scenes, Soral has spread anti-Semitic theories that have been taken up in revolutionary and left-wing circles, and that we must combat.
Similarly, the state’s exploitation of memory-related issues to serve the national narrative must not lead us to fall into the trap of pitting different memories and the dead against one another. While the state and far-right theorists employ this strategy quite openly, the fact that it is being adopted within our own circles does not bode well.
Competitive logic draws on hierarchies and compels those who face multiple forms of oppression to “choose sides,” forcing them to create rather disgusting comparison charts to determine which form of oppression would be the most “comfortable” or the “mildest.” Competition also transforms certain struggles into private property and monopolies and regards certain struggles as secondary and/or capable of existing only if they are subordinated to another struggle, a view of structures of oppression inherited from the vertical logic of the capitalist system.
At certain times, we may choose strategies that lead us to focus our efforts on a particular area of struggle (depending on available energy, local issues, and so on). One could, for example, legitimately argue that the environmental struggle should be an absolute priority. Indeed, if the planet is no longer habitable, what is the point of a revolution? But how can we effectively fight against the destruction of life without taking into account the conditions of production under capitalism that accelerate its loss, without taking into account imperialist issues, particularly those surrounding natural resources and the colonialist impact on populations (as seen recently in Mayotte), how can we fail to take into account the contributions of radical feminists regarding the dangers of essentializing nature, the links between patriarchy and the domination of living beings, etc.?
Pitting struggles against one another means depriving ourselves of this comprehensive understanding of systems of oppression. All struggles are equally important as long as they have revolutionary goals.
The fact that specific struggles involve different issues and operate according to different mechanisms does not negate the existence of common goals. Different practices and experiences can reinforce one another.
To avoid any ambiguity, the point is not to say that specific struggles divide the broader struggle. Nor is it to say that they must be sacrificed on the altar of the revolution and lose their autonomy, thereby blurring into one another. Nor do we deny the very necessary internal power dynamics.
Criticism centers on the way these issues are pitted against one another and depoliticized, on their exploitation, or on situations where power dynamics turn into a battle for individual power or a monopoly.
Because in a liberal worldview, where the goal isn’t to burn down the bakery but to get a slice of the cake, we’re forced to fight for the crumbs.
b) 100% marketing, 0% anarchist:
Under capitalism, every aspect of our lives can be commodified. (Hitchhiking is replaced by BlaBlaCar [French ridesharing app] or Uber; homes are turned into Airbnbs, etc.) Our struggles are no exception and are transformed into commodities that can be:
Ephemeral: Disconnected from its history, with no transmission of the past or vision for the future. We must constantly reinvent the wheel, filling empty spaces by fueling new, fruitless controversies or coming up with new academic concepts. For the activist clientele to keep consuming, there can be no sustainability. Like an electronic device that breaks down regularly, the struggle isn’t meant to last. It’s the activist version of planned obsolescence. Everything must be immediate. The struggle consists of a series of urgent outcries that pile up on top of one another. We jump from one issue to another, sometimes without coherence, but novelty sells, especially to casual activists. Those who come seeking the thrill of rebellion but leave as soon as things get serious or as soon as the spectacle collides with reality. A form of activist tourism/consumerism that isn’t very sustainable but sells well.
Inoffensive: The commodified struggle must be comfortable and reassure our egos. It must stroke us in the right direction and appeal to our emotions. It may even flatter our worst instincts. It must not clash with our behaviors, habits, or practices. The content must therefore not revolutionize our condition or force us to confront our contradictions (nothing that forces us to confront our rapist friends, for example). From the anarcho-populist perspective discussed above, the product must reaffirm our identities (as hicks or barbarians) and our political sovereignty. Moreover, to ensure this comfort, the enemy must always be a somewhat vague external figure. The goal is to denounce, but only to denounce; there’s no question of discussing concrete practices. The struggle must be a reassuring and harmless product; everything must be designed with the customers’ comfort in mind. And so what if it pacifies the struggles, the important thing is that the customers are happy.
Inconsistent: ready-made ideas that oversimplify complex political issues. The commodified struggle is meant to provide a turnkey, dogmatic narrative, but one that is always ideologically hollow. The product is “radical,” “anti-establishment,” and “anti-bourgeois,” but must never address the material conditions of existence or class struggle.
For customers to consume, they must not have to think. Any intellectual reflection, nuance, or criticism must be denounced as nitpicking and a manifestation of privilege.
To that end, the product must always be mainstream, safe, and binary, and must not challenge the prevailing hegemonic discourse too much. A more 'minoritarian' position would result in lower sales.
Folkloric: To sell a useless commodity, you have to create a need for it. So you have to bet everything on marketing and packaging. Aesthetics serve their own ends. Form takes precedence over substance and has no other purpose than the image it projects. Aesthetics must be radical, regardless of whether the political substance is compatible with capitalism. Balaclavas, Molotov cocktails, black raincoats, etc. All the symbolism of radicalism is used to drive sales by stripping the form of its substance. Balaclavas and black raincoats are merely an aesthetic and not tools in the service of collective anonymity. The struggle is transformed into folklore, into fads, that can be bought or sold to experience the thrill of rebellion.
Entertaining: Everything has to be Instagram-worthy (in fact, anything that isn’t on Instagram doesn’t exist). Protests turn into carnivals, with signs and party favors handed out. The only valid goal of an action is to create beautiful images. It’s rebellion for rebellion’s sake, action for action’s sake
. You have to maintain a constant public presence and be visible everywhere, all the time (even if it means trying to co-opt movements or actions for your own gain). This is performativity in the service of emptiness. You have to be disruptive and create visibility at all costs. To do this, you must promote polarizing and binary narratives. The product must generate buzz, conflict, drama, etc., which consumers can follow like a reality TV show
. And even negative buzz drives sales.
c) Gentrified anarchism:
Liberal excesses keep our goals trapped in a perpetual commodification of our revolts, and activist “salespeople” capitalize on the frustration stemming from powerlessness. Activist spaces are like supermarkets where our action is limited to choosing from the aisles of the struggle. But if there are people selling, it’s precisely because there are people consuming. Behaving like customers rather than autonomous political subjects keeps us stuck in political dead ends.
This commodification renders the struggle ineffective and harmless, serving only to provide an experience for activist tourists.
This is hardly surprising given the broader trend of the “disneylandisation” of the world. This concept refers to “the transformation of local societies and cultures brought about by the presence of tourists and in order to meet their expectations. It can also involve ‘museification’ and ‘folklorization,’ in that it freezes landscapes and practices in place to conform to the representations (or clichés) attributed to a given place or population.”
. Capitalism transforms every aspect of reality into a source of profit and a commodity—even cultures and values. To do so, it must strip these of their materiality and essence and tear them away from their historical uniqueness. And when reality cannot be transformed into a consumer good, it must be turned into symbols. The best way to destroy a culture and render it harmless is to turn it into a spectacle. Colonized peoples know this all too well.
Activist spaces are not immune to this “disneylandisation,” and the struggles, now confined to folklore, exist solely to please tourists.
Just as working-class neighborhoods undergo gentrification, anarchism is stripped of its potential for rebellion, leaving only its aesthetic—which makes reactionary rhetoric seem cool and trendy.
Far removed from a vision of a society that empowers everyone, the revolutionary movement no longer inspires much hope in anyone. The entire movement is discredited by being reduced to nothing more than a perpetual protest, with its sole focus on endless grievances that have gone unheeded. It’s as if all we have left is the capacity to be outraged. Fighting against liberalism means precisely fighting against these deadly tensions that crush every spark of hope and every wave of creativity.
These practices are mostly unconscious, as liberal logic has always permeated our imaginations. But sometimes they are a genuine opportunistic strategy.
The acceleration of liberalism goes hand in hand with its permeation of our collective imagination, and as the noose tightens, the societal changes of recent years should, on the contrary, lead us to strengthen our anarchist, anti-authoritarian stance and, above all, not give in to liberal blackmail.
Deconstructing our thought patterns—with all the discomfort, upheaval, and changes to our relationships with others that this entails. But since it’s easier to cling to ready-made folklore, the road to revolution may still be a long one. Riots, insurrections, and revolutions are nothing more than fetishes wrapped in cellophane.
The more our struggles are turned into commodities, the more confusing language becomes, and the harder it is to establish a 'cordon sanitaire' against reactionary, conservative, authoritarian, and disinformation-spreading influences. Fueling the neoliberal bulldozer will never open up collective, emancipatory prospects; it can only serve to enrich, whether in real or symbolic terms, a handful of careerist activists. It would be wrong to believe that this handful does no harm to the majority, for they merely shift the balance in an already suffocating context. Every small bridge that some people amuse themselves by building between right-wing, far-right, and authoritarian left ideologies and anarchism quickly turns into a gigantic bridge if we are not careful.
What is happening right now is the result of a well-established strategy. Many far-right theorists draw inspiration from leftist and even communist thinkers such as Gramsci. Most of Trump’s sources of inspiration can also be found among accelerationists inspired by Guattari and Deleuze.
By adopting certain leftist theories, the far-right is able to make deeply reactionary ideas seem cool and rebellious. In an era when fake news and conspiracy theories are everywhere, the battle is also being fought through language.
As Umberto Eco has shown, fascism arises from the simplification of language and the rejection of analytical criticism and critical thinking.
Anarchism must retain its meaning and its revolutionary power, and thus continue to attack the roots from which corpses spring.
Conclusion :
In short, anarchism today is getting bogged down in liberal excesses, notably:
- A form of citizenship that defends social democracy
- A succession of moralistic outcries that reinforce hollow stances
- Anti-establishment populism that blends the struggle for autonomy with the defense of a sovereign nation-people
- Self-centered individualism that leads to isolation and widespread powerlessness
- A neglect of class issues and the defense of the value of labor
- Competition at the heart of interactions between individuals and/or specific struggles
- Capitalizing on commodified struggles
- The gentrification and “disneylandisation” of our spaces
These abuses are not merely “problematic”; they are part of a continuum of normalization within the capitalist world. They infiltrate our struggles, undermine them, and ultimately spit them out as a confusing mishmash that, far from weakening the state, actually strengthens it.
While it is impossible to transcend history and predict the future, we can nevertheless acknowledge that the political climate is not particularly favorable to anarchist ideals. This loss of momentum can only be resolved by rediscovering a desirable revolutionary ideal that goes beyond the mere fetishization of rioting or the illusion of elections.
The path to revolution is fraught with doubts, but it is also paved with certainties: we detest the state and everything it produces or protects, from its borders to its prisons. We must view the world through a profoundly revolutionary lens, not a populist or reformist one.
Those who spread confusion and reaction are accelerating the end of revolutionary movements. On the contrary, we believe that all over the world there are anarchists who are unaware of their own identity, who do not identify as anarchists, and who are not particularly familiar with anarchist theory, but whose worldview places them 100 times closer to us than the confused opportunists. And it is with the former that we prefer to forge connections, because while it is no big deal not to call oneself an anarchist while sharing the vision of a desirable future, it is, on the other hand, dangerous to call oneself an anarchist while promoting neoliberalism. For, as Léo Löwenthal said, "Can one imagine a greater triumph for any system than this adoption of its values and behavior by its powerless victims?"
It's up to us to outsmart them!
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