When Mr Borodin aka Prince Peter Kropotkin Came To Aberdeen – Part 2

Kropotkin returned to Aberdeen in October 1889 and gave a talk to Aberdeen Junior Liberal Association entitled “Socialism its Modern Tendencies”. Once again it was under the aegis of a respectable organisation, one founded in 1882 with the intention of promoting Gladstonian liberalism and to give a forum open to wide-ranging discussion of politics and social policy. More directly political than the talk given in March 1889 Kropotkin argued that material wealth came from the combined efforts of women, men and children working together, however, these communal acts were fractured when it came to distribution this because commodities became the private property of owners and shareholders leaving, at the best of times, workers with access to only a small fraction of the wealth produced collectively. Hence to achieve a just society all land and factors of production “must belong to the whole community” with individuals making “free agreement” as to how wealth would be divided. Of course this was one of the key disagreements between the anarchists on one side and on the other Marxists who argued on the necessity for the revolutionary state to guard and guide the introduction of a new society, a notion which under the Bolsheviks in Russia became the belief that the revolutionary party embodied and lead workers to where and how their energies should be employed. Not everybody was enamoured at Kropotkin’s idealism. One was the editor of the Aberdeen Evening Gazette he described the world envisioned by the anarchist as wholly impossible, the product of a “poet and a dreamer” who failed to grasp the reality that humanity was essentially egotistical and selfish.

As a political refugee Kropotkin was happy to lecture middle class audiences on the profoundly social nature of humanity so it was that he accepted the invitations to come to Aberdeen. But on all occasions he grasped the opportunity to meet with socialists in the city. By 1889 he was surprised and pleased to find that the movement in Britain had advanced far beyond that from which he fled in the early 1880s. In March 1889, as a local editor put it, Kropotkin met with “friends of the socialistic cause” with George Bisset President of the Trades Council in the chair; showing the breadth of the movement of the time and the willingness to be non-sectarian it included the Rev. Alexander Webster, a Christian Anarchist who gave the vote of thanks.

The following October Kropotkin once again availed himself of the opportunity for propagandising. George Bisset again chaired the gathering which was an animated affair not because of the Prince’s radicalism and him being on the run from the Russian state. No, the flurry of discussion centred on an ongoing labour dispute between workers and management at one of the area’s paper mills. An ideal opportunity for propaganda it would seem.

The dispute centred upon working conditions at Pirie’s paper mill at Stoneywood. Men at the paper-making machine laboured five days 6 a.m. to 6 p.m. followed once a fortnight with a Saturday 6 a.m. until 11 p.m. Compounding the toil these men had no fixed hours for meals, according to Aberdeen Weekly News, having to “snatch their food just as they have the chance while attending the machinery”. Men asked that hours be reduced to 68 per week. Management’s response was, irrespective of later claims, a non-negotiable refusal leaving something like 150 men in the dilemma what to do next? This was about 20th October. It should be recalled that the 1880s was a time of increasing militancy and unionisation of unskilled an semi-skilled workers so unsurprisingly the men looked to solidarity at the mill and fraternal assistance from other workers. They decided to form a union to the consternation and absolute opposition of management who resorted to a lockout of all men,

Pirie’s forced the issue by insisting that only men who signed a document declaring they would not join a union and would accept the existing working hours, only they would be allowed back into the mill. By 22nd of the month about 100 men were locked out with 40 men bowing to management demands. For a very brief period it looked as if the struggle would be drawn-out. Financial donations in support of mill workers were collected locally as well as from paper workers to the south of Aberdeen. Locked-out men demanded the right to “liberty as Wallace and Bruce had done before them”, which meant freedom to join a union. But Pirie would only allow the liberty of a long working week and the freedom for men from other mills to be blacklegs, to take jobs previously held by men in dispute. Anger emerged. At one moment with a rumour doing the rounds that men from the local mill at Muggiemoss were looking to exploit the situation, locked out workers under cover of darkness made an effigy of a blackleg, carried it to the road to Aberdeen and alongside a railway line, there the “blackleg” was hung from a tree where, come daylight, it was stoned by supporters.

For a week militancy and solidarity developed culminating on the 28th October with a mass meeting of about 400 at Aberdeen’s Castlegate, traditionally the gathering place for demonstrations. The meeting was led by men from the Trades Council. All seemed set for a solid front against the bullying tactics of management. But it was not to be. By the following day the headline “Collapse of the Agitation” greeted men. Pirie’s management planted false claims as to the basis of the dispute, trying to split uncertain men from those more committed to the union struggle. Faced with the assertion that nobody in the union would get their jobs back, faced with this it is hardly surprising that men wavered and began to go to the mill gates pledging allegiance to the militant management.

Bitterness and disappointment swept through the men still holding out. Blacksmith George Bisset, leading light in the Trades Council, said of the men who signed the anti-union document that “he never knew a body of men to act so foolishly” an act he said designed to undermine organised labour and give employers the whip hand. Better, he said, that instead of eventual capitulation to management’s demands that the men had never supported the struggle in the first place.

On the 30th Aberdeen Free Press followed the line being spun by the employer, blaming the disruption on “local agitators” telling readers “This is not the first occasion of recent times that the same parties [from the Trades Council] have interfered in labour disputes in which they had little or no concern . . . to foment strife and prejudice . . . reckless and wrong-headed”. William Livingstone, then President of the Trades Council, echoed the anger of his colleague George Bisset when he described those who capitulated as “truckling knaves . . . cringing back to their masters, licking the very dust off their boots”. He must have been consumed by his fury as he went on to wish them the worst, “He hoped the employers would put the screw on them very much more than before . . . would take the very last drop of blood out of their veins”. In the space of a week men had gone from the utmost optimism to the depths of defeat and this was briefly witnessed by Peter Kropotkin, no stranger to the rise and fall and rise again of class struggles.

On the day of defeat, announced by the local Press, the Russian addressed two meetings. One was to the Junior Liberal Association on the subject “Socialism its Modern Tendencies” and later in the evening when workmen and women were better able to attend, with free entry, the Prince took as his subject “Is Socialism Practicable?” In the earlier meeting he argued that the very dynamics of capitalism laid the foundation of what he described as socialism. Not only did “modern” society draw workers into extended communal enterprise but this was done on the back of increasing productivity with the help of science and technology making it possible and probable that a society without borders with material plenty was historically necessary.

At the evening meeting with a more working class audience Kropotkin advanced his argument that socialism, or anarchism as he preferred to term it, was not simply material tinkering with the share of a national cake rather it was revolution with authoritarian institutions overthrown to be replaced by federal living and active moral choices made by individuals. Hence Kropotkin did not doubt, for example, that free school meals would benefit poor children, however, he argued this was not socialism. Nor was winning an eight hour day for workers as this did not free men and women from exploitation; it simply tweaked the pattern of wealth being appropriated by capital. Nonetheless, struggle was necessary,whether it was rural or urban labour, without struggle nothing was possible with the proviso that those who fought needed to see beyond immediate demands to greater possible goals. Kropotkin praised, for example, the great London dockers strike of August 1889 at the same time insisting that labour had to raise its voice against authority, property and capital as such, go beyond amelioration of an unjust world.

Dockers’ Strike 1889

He chose as two examples of what might be achieved when men and women united around opposition to big social-economic evils, grasping different historical forces in the fight for liberty: the abolition of serfdom in Russia and slavery in the USA. The former had been achieved without resort to violent revolution (although he well-knew that free peasants suffered under the new system); on the other hand the struggle in America had required the bloodiest of wars a consequence of the absolute refusal of the South to condone any freeing of slaves. Hence violent change followed. This underpinned Kropotkin’s stance on whether violent revolution was necessary. He did not condemn anarchist “outrages”, individual acts of terror and assassination, circumstances dictated what might or might not be done. Given the unbending Tsarist opposition to democracy nihilism and violent attacks upon the Russian state were established tactics in Kropotkin’s home country. Amongst his closest of friends and political confidants was the nihilist Stepniak, responsible in 1878 for the assassination of the head of Russia’s secret police. If the owners of wealth and capital refused to bend towards the just demands of workers then revolution could only take a violent course. As he said to the assembled workers in Aberdeen “if the owning classes were unable to understand [the justice of working class demands], the change would happen the nevertheless” as the whole of Europe was ripe for revolution. Stepniak called Kropotkin an “ardent searcher after truth”.

Stepniak
Artist’s Impression of Underground Russian Nihilist Meeting

For the next twenty eight years the anarchist’s search for truth continued to reach across Europe; he remained an exile from this native land returning only in 1917 following the Russian revolutions of that year. The world had moved on. No more clear perhaps than when in 1916 the revolutionary Kropotkin gave his support to allied powers in the conflict with Germany, reflecting the deep division then separating revolutionaries from reformers and imperialists. With the emergence of soviets and mass class struggle opposed to the autocratic Russian regime the now aged anarchist must have had such hopes for the future. Sadly for the Prince, his dream of liberation was not realised. The Bolshevik Revolution was far from the free-association of individuals envisaged by the anarchist. Political ideology, the forces of the counter-revolution and the exigencies of class war conspired to leave the idealism of Kropotkin all but a footnote in the history of struggle. He died February 1921. His funeral drew thousands to mark the passing of the man.

Not that he is forgotten. Anarchism continues to motivate individuals and groups across the world. Kropotkin’s published works remain guides to followers, especially his Mutual Aid which is a counterblast to some evolutionary Darwinism, positing that the natural inclinations of humankind to cooperate rather than compete was a sound base for anarchism.

In Aberdeen the Prince’s views found echoes in the emergence of a local group calling itself Aberdeen Anarchist Communists. In March 1893 Agnes Henry gave a lecture on the ideals of the movement being founded on “science and facts”. The group debated the rights and wrongs, the strengths and weaknesses of the dominant trend towards parliamentary socialism and the values of the Independent Labour Party. The anarchists attended local demonstrations such as May Day with banners calling for Bread and Liberty and at times decrying the timidity of labour-trade union representatives. The Trades Council became the focus of criticism when there was, to say the least, a hesitancy for the local “voice” of workers to be seen associating with anarchists. In July of 1895 they clashed when the local followers of Kropotkin asked the Trades Council to join with them in protesting the jailing of Walsall anarchists on trumped up terrorist charges. Aberdeen’s anarchists were denounced and described as following a “revolutionary catechism . . . of the dagger and the rope”. But grudgingly it was decided to send delegates to the protest, however, when push came to shove only representatives of the Social Democratic Federation made an appearance. Respectable labour stayed away but some 300 others attended which would have gratified the far from wholly respectable Kropotkin.

Death of Kropotkin

When Mr Borodin aka Prince Peter Kropotkin Came To Aberdeen – Part 1

Peter Kropotkin

Tall with a bushy beard and a distinct Russian accent, this was the man who stood before an attentive audience at the Christian Institute in Aberdeen. It was March 1889. The theme of his talk was “What Geography Ought To Be”. Under the auspices of the Aberdeen branch of the Royal Scottish Geographical Society this was a highly respectable forum evident in the lecture being chaired by David Stewart of Banchory, manager of what was claimed to be the largest combworks in the world, a staunch Conservative and a future Lord Provost of Aberdeen. A close friend described the speaker as “an incomparable agitator . . . he becomes all passion when he mounts the platform . . . he trembles with emotion”.

The speaker was Prince Peter Kropotkin, one-time secretary to the Russian Geographical Society, famed for his explorations in Siberia and Manchuria in the 1860s and with an impeccable family background. Born into the Russian aristocracy in I842 he was brought up to admire and follow the moral and social codes of the privileged elite which ruled the country. His father’s estate was worked by 1200 serfs, women, men and children without even the freedom of wage labourers. “Owned” by their master this feudal condition was only abolished in the 1860s. For the first twenty years of his life Kropotkin could see at first hand the sometimes very brutal treatment of individual serfs and grasped the larger injustices of the system not to mention the sheer waste of human energies of serfdom.

Into the his mid-twenties Kropotkin followed the path expected of sons of the nobility: first educated by private tutors then on to military service and training which stressed the need for hierarchy, privilege and the supremacy of the Tsar. However, this structured social world did not preclude emerging critics such as Alexander Herzen who went into exile to escape being imprisoned for questioning and thus threatening the pyramid of privilege. Tsarist secret police did all they could to suppress voices of dissent. Many men and women sent into harsh exile in Siberia, some were executed, all were potential outlaws.

But revolutionary and critical works, nonetheless, circulated underground and by the late 1850s the young Kropotkin, in military service, was seeking and reading Herzen. The prince was enraptured by the writing of the exiled Russian: “the beauty of the style . . . the breadth of his ideas, and his deep love of Russia took possession of me” he wrote in his evocative memoirs; this motivated him to “edit my first revolutionary paper” But we should not think that he was then advocating wholesale overturning of the Tsarist regime rather it was as he himself said constitutional change he desired, proposing significant alterations to the state bureaucracy and a loosening of the hierarchy. Nonetheless the teenage prince was on dangerous ground, evident in the fact that the “paper” which he circulated were three handwritten copies of his views which he secretly passed to fellow military students. For all the brevity and to say the least limited circulation of his “paper” if caught he faced the prospect of exile to Siberia.

Artist’s Impression of Arrest of Russian Nihilist

Kropotkin remained in military service until 1867 when he entered university much against the wishes of his family and expectations of his army colleagues. It was in military service that he had undertaken work in Siberia as well as explorations including travelling to Manchuria. His years in Siberia had opened his eyes to the creative potential of the Russian peasantry. Rural labour and communal work was something to be praised. As a consequence “I lost in Siberia whatever faith in state discipline I had cherished before I was prepared to become an anarchist”. University life offered him new opportunities, with higher education, some freedom from reactionary authority and the possibility of meeting liberal scholars. Henceforward he put his faith in what he called “the constructive work of the masses” which apart from the organisational strengths of peasants in rural communes had been spectacularly demonstrated in the Paris Commune of 1871 and the self-organisation of Communards. Beyond this Kropotkin became convinced that the loose federal organisation of Swiss Jura watchmakers provided a model of how society might be free of the dictatorial control of centralised states.

In this period the European socialist movement was widening its spread and deepening its critique of capitalism with three main strands emerging: a reformist strand which was finding strong expression in the British trade union movement, this was in contrast to the two revolutionary wings usually characterised as struggles between Marxism and Anarchism, personified in the critiques made by Karl Marx on one side and Michael Bakunin the other. Kropotkin moved towards the anarchist side.

In 1872 the Prince travelled to Switzerland where he immersed himself in discussions with members of the International Working Men’s Association, he clarified his thinking on revolution and decided to return to Russia to propagandise for the overthrow of the Tsarist regime. This put him on the path to imprisonment and exile. “Agitate, organise” became his watchwords. Literally he lived amongst urban workers and peasants, dressing as they did and doing all he could to avoid the regime’s spies. Travelling and propagandising under the name of Borodin he dodged the police until 1874 when almost inevitably he was arrested and imprisoned in the Peter-Paul fortress of St Petersburg. For two years, without being brought to trial, he suffered the deprivations of Tsar Alexander II’s reactionary policies. In 1876 he had the good-fortune to be moved to an “immense show prison” where conditions were better, nonetheless, he fell critically ill with scurvy resulting in him being sent to a military hospital. Recovery was slow with the constant threat of being returned to the more closely watched prison. As he gained strength so he looked to escape. Daring and dangerous describes it best. Conspiring with comrades he decided straight out the front door of the hospital was easiest. Chased by armed soldiers Kropotkin dashed to a waiting carriage which took him to relative safety just off the city’s Nevsky Prospekt. Having become an outlaw and faced with the threat of recapture and many years of probable imprisonment the Prince had no option but to go into exile: first it was on to Sweden, then by steamer to England. Unlike the Britain of the 21st century that of the later 19th century offered refuge for revolutionaries, as Kropotkin wrote on seeing the steamer which was to take him from Sweden, “Under which flag does she sail? . . . Then I saw floating above the stern the union jack, the flag under which so many refugees . . . have found an asylum. I greeted that flag from the depth of my heart”.

Marx and Bakunin

Now in exile, with the Tsarist sate ever watchful hoping to get their hands on the anarchist, Kropotkin’s revolutionary propaganda centred on European workers. For periods he lived in Scotland, England, Belgium, France and Switzerland. By 1881 he was back in England but was alienated from the politics of Britain, as he put it there was “no atmosphere to breathe in”; in other words the country did not, as far he could see, have an appetite for insurgent politics so he took himself off to France in 1882 saying “Better a French prison” than the apparently quiet world of British labour. As it happened the 1880s proved to be a period of great class struggle in Britain with strikes and the growth of militancy amongst previously disorganised unskilled workers, women and men.

But Kropotkin could not know this hence he was off to France where there was a very active anarchist movement including those who favoured terrorist action as propaganda by the deed. And, almost needless to say, having recently unleashed a “carnival of blood” against the Communards of 1871 the French state was ever-keen to lock up anarchists and remove “foreigners” who posed a threat to property and so Kropotkin found himself in that French prison he’d earlier seen as his possible fate. This particular episode was linked to the prosecution of anarchist workers in Lyon, accused of planting explosives. Kropotkin was rounded up and along with others faced trial. They were found guilty of belonging to the International Working Men’s Association and the Russian with three others was sentenced to five years incarceration. This was 1883. For three years he languished in the system gaining his freedom in 1886 following agitation by French supporters.

Paris Commune

On release he crossed the Channel to Britain. It was in this period that Kropotkin made his way to give a talk in Aberdeen. With his charm, mastery of the English language and rhetorical and intellectual skills the Russian anarchist was well-able to address not only groups of socialist inclined workers, men and women attracted to anarcho-communism but equally acceptable to more middle-class audiences. Hence it was he addressed the Aberdeen branch of the Royal Scottish Geographical Society on the subject “What Geography Ought To Be”.

March 1889 and Kropotkin faced the respectable Aberdeen audience and in his own way he nudged them towards a very liberal and nonetheless scientific view of the discipline of geography. He understood that the work of the geographer was a political exercise, making clear that the science was particularly important for British citizens this because their country was then “the greatest colonising Power the world ever knew, and whose sons have added new realms to civilisation while developing and extending” the wider conventions and social values of Europe. Geography, he said, was the science of first importance as it encompassed and in some sense unified other sciences primarily geology, climatology and the geographical spread of plants, animals extending to understanding the diversity of human societies dispersed across the globe, in other words anthropology. And, drawing on his anarchist principles, he proposed that what we might now call a holistic approach to geography would lay the basis for understanding that there was “the greatest likeness between the masses of the toilers of the soil and the workers in all nationalities”.

Unlike arch imperialists who often saw indigenous conquered peoples as “savages” living in societies lacking in rational legitimacy Kropotkin thought otherwise recognising that the Victorian world of individualised private property was an alien concept to many societies. He maintained that communal property demanded very different codes of behaviour which were as legitimate as any promulgated by imperialist nations. Being a man of his time and having implicit commitment to the truths of science Kropotkin had little doubt that social progress was built into the very fabric of the human world and it was “the duty of the geographer to show that every nationality was doing its own part in the development of humanity and was laying its own foundation stone for the benefit of mankind”.

Civilising the World

At the lecture a member of the audience suggested that the Russian should look at the practice of Aberdeen’s Robert Gordon’s College where theoretical and practical sessions brought students to a wider understanding of the subjects studied. The anarchist paid close attention to this suggestion as evidenced in 1890, writing for the serial publication The Nineteenth Century he waxed lyrical on what was taught at the Aberdeen school. His topic for discussion was “Brain Work and Manual Work” the core of which argued the necessity for these two expressions of labour to come together for achieving a richer understanding of the world. Kropotkin argued that in their daily lives and with practical skills the so-called uneducated masses generated solutions to problems as a matter of course but sadly were seldom given credit for their creative abilities; at the same time more often than not they were excluded from the more abstract sciences which were left to specialists who in their turn were more usually ignorant of the crafts and organisations of rural and urban workers, This, he said impoverished both sides and as result hindered the progress of society; bring them together and things could only get better. He found this in place at the Aberdeen school, “There I found the system . . . had been applied with full success”, scientific education combined with workshop training across a number of trades: it was evident that the Gordon’s College industrial department was not a mere “copy of any foreign school; on the contrary, I should permit myself to suggest that if Aberdeen made that excellent move towards combining science with handicraft, the move was a natural outcome of what has been practised long since, on a smaller scale in the Aberdeen daily schools.”

It’s a moot point whether the anarchist’s evaluation of the educational strengths of the city’s schools is deserving, more certain is that the horrors and dangers of industrial work (for example those of the matchmaking industry which were exposed by the strike of 1888) brought forward the idea of rejecting the factory system as at all beneficial to humankind and unsustainable under socialism. Kropotkin as I’ve said favoured the craft organisation of Swiss watch makers and similarly the ardent socialist William Morris combined his Arts & Crafts aesthetic in the visionary notion that work might be organised along something like a guild structure with creative production for all, an escape from the tyranny of the factory clock and serial production. Morris and Kropotkin became friends during the anarchist’s exile in Britain. In his utopian novel News from Nowhere Morris gave voice to notions which would have found favour with the anarcho-communist such as “The wares which we make are made because they are needed, men make for their neighbours’ use . . . not for a vague market of which they know nothing, and over which they have no control . . . no inferior goods are made”.

The Ideal Of Intellectual and Manual Labour Combined