Nonviolence Versus Capitalism

The most valuable part of Nonviolence Versus Capitalism may be the suggestions Martin offers on how to assess the anti-capitalistic merits of campaigns involved with environmental issues, worker’s rights, etc. Though Martin admits that a campaign might be extremely important even though it doesn’t directly oppose capitalism, his method of assessment, which he condenses into a few sobering questions, is for a specific anti-capitalistic purpose and as such has tremendous value to those who are interested in determining whether or not a strategy merely tweaks the status quo by subtractive and additive reforms, or promotes revolutionary changes that would effectively challenge the underpinnings of capitalism. 

A strike for higher pay, he points out, can be valuable to exploited workers, but it does not challenge the asymmetry of power in the relationship between employers and workers. A strategy aimed to give workers control over what they produce and what they would charge for their labor, however, is quite different since it challenges, among other things, the legitimacy of hierarchical relations. 

In a similar critique of nonviolent strategy, Martin points out how “withdrawal of consent as a nonviolent tactic can be used to change relationships to means of production, but revolutionary change is not just a matter of withdrawing consent from a particular factory owner, but of withdrawing consent from ownership itself.” 

It is worth noting that although factory owners, corporate directors, CEOs, etc., may be the master thieves, they are nonetheless not the capitalist machine. We are all both guests and hosts in the market-economy hotel. Expending energy to modify the behavior of those in the penthouse has proven to be generally useless. Identifying and killing those who dominate and exploit is a “clear the slate” strategy that presents troubling problems not the least of which is the fact that it attracts extremists who, under some illusion of being in possession of the “true way,” practice a kind of despotic self-righteousness. Lastly, bombing the top floor of the hotel is tantamount to collective suicide. 

What is really going to matter in the years ahead is how carefully the hotel is dismantled and if the number of people effectively challenging the legitimacy of capitalism can reach a tipping point. 

Martin does not underestimate the difficulties associated with challenging intricately distributed systems of domination; he is aware that technocratic societies produce a surfeit of disinformation and info-tainment. He also understands how—beyond the mystifications of consumerism—capitalism is sustained by belief systems including property, entitlement, individualism, and everyday behaviors including status enhancement, the pursuit of autonomy, and selfishness. 

Again, in the struggle against capitalism, Martin emphasizes that what is going to matter is numbers, i.e., enough people who are enchanted with the possibility of a more humane social reality to be true to the task of developing local initiatives where important questions can be collectively addressed questions such as: “How would I really like to live?” “In what kind of society (or non-society) would I feel most comfortable?” “In what kind of system can individuals live up to themselves?” 

Nonviolence, Martin reminded me, is a method of waging conflict. It is not mere passive resistance, far more than a precautionary principal, and no more neutral than a gun. 

Martin’s book has given me hope, and he has earned my infinite respect, in that his book models the faith in human rationality that I believe would be a principle feature of a post-capitalistic world.... A world that has removed all removable injustices, extended civil associations beyond coercive institutions and states, and accepted the necessity to defend a biocentric ethic that takes Life more seriously than individual gain