This chapter explores the newspapers anarchists used to create and disseminate an anarchist Latinidad that was a radical, transnational, anti-capitalist, anticlerical, anti-imperial, and Spanish language-based identity forged initially by US-based migrant anarchists from Spain and Cuba. Using the anarchist press in Florida and New York, anarchists rejected the importance of identifying themselves as “Spanish” or “Cuban” and instead forged a cross-border working-class identity. In creating this identity, anarchists focused on their encounters with US capitalism and republican democracy from 1886 to 1898. Such encounters conditioned their perspectives on what an independent Cuba could look like and what it should avoid. Anarchists also debated whether or not to support the Cuban War for Independence. Was it just another nationalist project that would usher in a new, exploitative ruling elite, or could an independent, non-nationalist anarchist society be constructed? These latter debates began in mid-1891– three and a half years before the mambises launched their uprising against Spanish colonialism.

In light of police raids and de facto forms of censorship, Shelley Streeby has powerfully pointed to what she aptly terms “the limits of print as an archive of radical memory,” and, so too, the limits within American literary studies in so far recognizing the various and voluminous genres of nineteenth-century radical print culture – from fiery speeches and satirical strike songs to political pamphlets, worker song-poems, insurgent novels, and experimental biography – as literature. This chapter explores the ways American literature nevertheless archives radical movements and the ways nineteenth-century radicals engaged with and rethought the canon of American literature. It also considers how nineteenth-century US radicalism shaped American literature more broadly by turning to Henry James’s 1886 novel The Bostonians as an unexpectedly rich archive of radical abolition and its legacies.

Resisting Racial Capitalism begins with the premise that we need to look beyond the hegemony of the state and its grammars of justice. Drawing on C. L. R. James and Cedric Robinson, it argues that the state is not a neutral arbiter of justice that can or should be appealed to for rights, recognition, or restitution. Rather, the state is a relation of violence which is central to racial capitalism. This is a type of violence which cannot be reformed away through a politics that merely strives to make oppressive institutions more diverse, inclusive, or tolerant. As a permanent war waged on those deemed delinquent, wayward, and undeserving, the state must itself be abolished.

This chapter examines socialist-secularist intellectuals. Secularist intellectuals were noted both for their quick rise within the socialist party, which offered them newspaper editorships and Reichstag candidacies, and for their tendency to heresy. They provided many of the key figures in anarchism, revisionism and radicalism. The first section focuses on how an important oppositional movement of 1890 to 1893, the so-called “revolt of the Jungen” was led by some of the Berlin secularists introduced in Chapter 1. The Jungen have been the subject of a number of reflections on the role of intellectuals in the party; however, none of these has dealt with the secularist dimension of this conflict. By taking up this lacuna, the chapter reinterprets key aspects of the history and the theory of the intellectual. The second section of this chapter shows how Berlin secularists strategically employed heresy as a means of developing their charisma as autonomous intellectuals within the socialist milieu.

The introductory chapter presents the aims and outline of the book’s argument. It then situates the book within the broader ideological landscape by explaining the relationship between its argument, the anarchist movement, and some of the defended position’s philosophical rivals. Specifically, it considers, first, the question of what it means for a moral position to be an anarchist position and, next, whether the position defended by the book can be reasonably characterized as “social anarchism.” The introduction then discusses the central aims of the book in a bit more detail, with the primary two being (1) showing that social anarchism is coherent (in a sense to be described below) and (2) showing that the position is independently plausible. Finally, the introduction concludes by arguing that social anarchism will be attractive (in at least some respect) to partisans of a number of rival philosophical positions.

Chapter 1 introduces the five moral principles that compose the social anarchist position. Specifically, it defines social anarchism as the conjunction of five theses: (1) the consent theory of legitimacy, which holds that persons are obligated to obey the laws of the state only if they have consented to do so; (2) the Lockean proviso, which holds that persons can acquire property rights over some natural resource iff they leave “enough and as good” for others; (3) the self-ownership thesis, which asserts that each person has the same rights over her body that she would have over a fully owned thing; (4) the contention that persons do not have private property rights over any external natural resources; and (5) an endorsement of luck egalitarianism as the moral principle regulating the permissible use of unowned external objects. It also adjusts these principles in various ways to render them more plausible.

Making good decisions about sustainability requires explicit consideration about what criteria to use. Three grand traditions dominate most policy discussions: utilitarianism, deliberative ethics and anarchism/libertarianism. The chapter proposes seven criteria for good decisions. Three are criteria for the outcomes. A good decision should enhance the well-being of humans and other species while reducing stress on the environment; be efficient in allocating resources; and enhance individual freedoms. Four are criteria about process: take account of uncertainty in both facts and values, as well as value conflicts; promote fairness in both the decision process and its outcomes; rely on human cognitive strengths and compensate for weaknesses; and allow for social learning.

Volume 2 of The Cambridge History of Global Migrations presents an authoritative overview of the various continuities and changes in migration and globalization from the 1800s to the present day. Despite revolutionary changes in communication technologies, the growing accessibility of long-distance travel, and globalization across major economies, the rise of nation-states empowered immigration regulation and bureaucratic capacities for enforcement that curtailed migration. One major theme worldwide across the post-1800 centuries was the differentiation between “skilled” and “unskilled” workers, often considered through a racialized lens; it emerged as the primary divide between greater rights of immigration and citizenship for the former, and confinement to temporary or unauthorized migrant status for the latter. Through thirty-one chapters, this volume further evaluates the long global history of migration; and it shows that despite the increased disciplinary systems, the primacy of migration remains and continues to shape political, economic, and social landscapes around the world.

Chapter 8 treats Ivan Turgenev’s influential portrait of a nihilist in his character Bazarov from the novel Fathers and Sons. Turgenev portrays the rise of nihilism as a conflict between the older and the younger generation in Russia that took place after the emancipation of the serfs in 1861. With his character sketch of Bazarov, Turgenev made the Russian nihilist movement famous throughout Europe. The story tells of the homecoming of the young Arkady Kirsanov who brings with him his friend from the university, Bazarov. The novel depicts the conflicts that arise when the two young men stay at the rural estate of Arkady’s father. Bazarov claims that nihilism is about negation, and his goal is to destroy everything and start again. When asked what his positive program is for afterwards, he surprisingly says that he does not have one. While Turgenev generally gives a sympathetic sketch of Bazarov, he cannot subscribe to his ideas. Like Jean Paul and Møller, he believes it is impossible to accept the idea that death is annihilation. His model is rather Bazarov’s simple grieving parents, who believe in something higher than death.

This chapter tracks the impact of George and the Land War on some of the central ideological currents of the period, revealing how the transatlantic Land War came to occupy its fractious place in liberal political thinking. It suggests the importance of George’s radical campaigns and the Irish land agitation in accelerating acceptance of the more technocratic sightlines of new liberalism and economic marginalism. Pressed by the destabilising threat of demands for access to land grounded in natural rights, liberal political thinkers discarded the last vestiges of the tradition’s democratic-republican heritage in favour of a statist and ostensibly ‘value-free’ perspective enunciated in a language of scientific authority. Henry George’s social and intellectual networks are examined, as well as the work of liberal political theorists dealing with the land question, George, and the Irish crisis. The chapter argues that the contradictions between liberty and property – between natural freedoms and private accumulation – that the Land War exposed forced liberalism to finally and more fully dispose of its older individualistic assumptions in order to protect social order, property, ‘progress’, and ‘civilization’.

Known for its brutal descriptions of punishment – and the resistance of its narrator – The History of Mary Prince is usually read as a slave narrative that argues for abolition by way of affective appeals. While its explicit set pieces of violence and sexual humiliation played upon the sentiments of British readers, provoking an instinctual repulsion towards slavery, these scenes may have also encouraged readers to identify the enslaved as permanently degraded. Mary Prince and her editor Thomas Pringle, however, challenge this acceptable debasement of slaves by connecting the concept of honor to Prince’s physical character. In doing so, the History addresses a prejudice long-held by both abolitionists and colonialists towards the black female body and demonstrates how Romantic abolitionism could pivot from the bourgeois liberal ideal of freedom – or the negative right of non-restraint – to dignity, a positive, material affirmation of social worth. A concluding section treats the History as a prospectus – or, perhaps, Afrofuturist manifesto – for the political subject that can exist outside of the state, capitalist institutions, and even the bounds of recognizable sovereignty.

The period between 1870 and 1930 saw the beginning of the Latin American anarchist movement. Latin American anarchist literature emerged in the context of the tensions between the modernization process and the sudden reappearance of supposedly premodern intellectual traditions. Amid these tensions, the anarchist movement allowed for the professionalization of subaltern intellectuals, as well as for lettered intellectuals to move into popular spaces. This chapter examines this juncture through some documents from the German anarchist Max Nettlau’s personal archive, which provide clues to the construction of these intellectual and political networks (from Cuba to Mexico and the United States; from Europe to Argentina, and from there to the rest of the continent). Through the study of these networks, this essay reconstructs the history of some anarchist editorial projects and of some of the working-class intellectuals who developed their work within these spaces.

Labor’s gloves are off, and the country is rocked by waves of strikes, all backed by militant battle songs. The Pullman Strike brings to the fore Eugene Debs and other champions of labor and socialism, Coxey’s Army marches on Washington (singing), German immigrants fly the red flag of Anarchism (in song), and Jews fleeing from Russian pogroms swell the streets and sweatshops of New York’s Lower East Side, transforming the national soundscape with Yiddish labor anthems and laying the foundations of modern musical theater. The Mexican corrido becomes more prominent amidst white nativist hostility, and in California the Chinese community continues to pit their authentic songs of struggle against the slanders of minstrelsy and the insult of the Chinese Exclusion Act. On the western plains, the Lakota Ghost Dance and its attendant songs drive the US government into a panic born of ignorance, culminating in the massacre at Wounded Knee. With the frontier officially closed and white settler colonialism entrenched from sea to shining sea, the champions of Manifest Destiny look further westward, to the Pacific islands, where a songwriter named Lili’uokalani, the queen of Hawai’i, awaits her overthrow.