THIRTY-FIVE years ago, I was having a discussion with the father of a close friend and he asked whether the practical fulfilment of a revolutionary society – as I then conceived it – would later cause me to rebel against that, too. In other words, he was trying to establish whether I possessed the kind of restless and volatile mindset that might lead one to behave in an ‘anti-social’ fashion in any number of different contexts.

It was something that I hadn’t really considered before, I must admit, and a phenomenon that I have since come to recognise among those who describe themselves as ‘anarchists’ and yet base their entire weltanschauung on upsetting someone in authority for cheap gratification. You often see this in punk circles, especially, where for many ‘anarchism’ means little more than setting out to shock people in order to draw attention to oneself. Although, to be fair, I acted in a very similar fashion during the chaos that marked my own youth and becoming a political activist changed my entire outlook on life and presented everything in a brand new light.

In reply to my friend’s father, therefore, I explained that I would not seek to act as a disruptive force within a revolutionary society and that I was genuinely interested in achieving peace, justice and fulfilment both for myself and for others. Although many of us are considered ‘anti-social’ within the parameters of a modern society which, by its very nature, is anti-social, even the most ‘difficult’ and ‘awkward’ individuals have a unique place waiting for them in some as-of-yet unrealised or perhaps unconceived-of dimension. The frustration of trying to force a round peg into a square hole does not have to become an indefinite or unresolved process.

At the same time, to actively seek conflict and controversy within the framework of the existing capitalist dystopia makes it far easier to be vilified and criminalised by one’s political opponents. Friedrich Nietzsche made a similar observation, when he said that “He who cannot obey himself will be commanded”. What he meant by this, of course, is that a failure to exercise sufficient discipline and self-control will inevitably bring one into conflict with those one is seeking to overthrow and this inevitably favours the oppressor at the expense of the individual.

The solution to this problem, I believe, is to engage in the kind of meaningful activity that either replicates or activates what one regards as the achievement of a revolutionary state of affairs. Retaining an abrasive attitude whilst hoping that the collapse of capitalism will take place at a particular time on a particular day is clearly a tragic waste of human existence. I would compare it to the role of labour within the context of the zen monastery. If Japanese monks just sat around meditating all day, as is often the case with forms of Indian asceticism, the entire foundation of this practice would have crumbled many centuries ago. Without meaningful activity, or what may be described in politics as a permanent state of revolution, the idea soon dissipates and particularly when it centres around a leader upon whom its very survival depends. The permanent revolution, however, is not about endless conflict in which one generation of anarchists is perpetually replaced by its more disagreeable successors, but of long-term stability achieved through solidarity and consensus.

The revolutionary society – which, given the right environment, can operate immediately – must be settled and yet dynamic at the same time. If you are not looking for authentic harmony, order and self-realisation, then you are clearly barking up the wrong tree.