The Voluntaryist
"If one takes care of the means, the end will take care of itself."
	VOL. 1, NO. 4		April 1983

	INTERVIEW WITH PAUL JACOB
	THE ETHICS OF VOTING - PART THREE
		by George H. Smith

_________________________

		INTERVIEW WITH PAUL JACOB

	Paul Jacob, a libertarian activist, was indicted
by the Arkansas Grand Jury on September 23, 1982 for
failure to register for the draft. Although he is the
11th person to be indicted for this offense, Jacob's
case is unique in that he is the only one the F.B.I. cannot
locate for prosecution, despite a nationwide search.

		Interview by Wendy McElroy

	V:
	Has your opinion of the libertarian movement or
the direction libertarianism needs to take changed
during the period you have lived underground?

	PJ:
	It has solidified. It has hardened. Before I
joined the Libertarian Party (LP), I considered myself
a libertarian and I was dedicated, at least to a major
degree, to political activity such as draft resistance.
I was talking to people and trying to educate people
about freedom and individualism. Someone told me
"Well, if this is so good, why don't you join the LP?"
At that moment, I couldn't think what to say, so I said
"I think I will." I was organizing before I joined the LP
and my idea then was that the only way to stop the
government was to resist the government. In fact, the
main thing I tried to get across was that if we want
to change something, we can't accept it. I have always
been against people who say you can only change
things through the system. I have always felt the
exact opposite. Once you are part of the system there is
nothing to change. You would have to change yourself.

	V:
	You are the problem?

	PJ:
	Yes.  At points after becoming a libertarian,
I was more in favor of political, electoral strategies,
but as the draft issue developed I began to see there is
really no chance for 18 to 23 year olds to vote out
everyone over 23.

	V:
	Are you saying the draft is an issue which
cannot be effectively approached through the electoral
process?

	PJ:
	Effectively, no. It could be made an issue
electorally, but you are not going to see major party
politicians buck the voting strength of those over 23
to satisfy those 18 to 23. If we could somehow
convince a majority of those over 23 that the draft
was wrong, then there might be some hope in the
electoral process to end it, but I think that is asking
a little too much. Anyway, as Carter started
registration, it was clear to me that I wasn't going
to register and that the only way, the most effective
way for those of us threatened with the draft to beat
it was to resist. Since I have been underground and
since I have traveled different places, I feel more and
more sure that the way to stop government slavery in
this and all other issues is to resist it physically,
personally. It is not enough to try and convince people
to think as you do. You must act on what you think.
Convincing the masses is much easier if you have
taken action yourself, if you can say "this is what I
did" rather than "this is what I think."

	V:
	I am surprised that you are not more of
a cause celebre in libertarianism as our own
"fugitive from the FBI"...

	PJ:
	I am in isolated pockets.

	V:
	Can you speculate as to why you have not
received more support from libertarian organizations,
particularly,the LP?

	PJ:
	Well, I would like to preface it by saying
that quite a few individuals and some organizations
have given me support. I think one reason is because
there is a question as to whether the LP should
support people who break the law-for the life of me
I don't understand why. If we believe that taxation
is theft, that the draft is slavery-and any libertarian
I call a libertarian believes those things-then, why
wouldn't we want to support someone who decided
not to be robbed or enslaved? It seems like those are
the very people we would want to support. But the
only thing that I can figure is they want to look like
a credible, all American party. When I think of myself
as all American, I think of America as a land mass.
I think they are confusing America with a national
government. They want to emulate the other political
parties who obviously don't support people who break
the law, but the other political parties made those
laws. So, the LP made a mistake. They were trying to
follow a path that was made by statists rather than
by libertarians.

	V:
	One of the differences between socialism
and libertarianism.  as movements seems to be that
socialists give support to movement people who are
victimized by the State. Is it simply that there is a
stigma to breaking the law in libertarianism which
does not exist in socialism, or is there a fuller
answer?

	PJ:
	For one thing, I think that libertarians as
a group have been less victimized than socialists or
communists. There was a time, and in many places in
the United States it still is the case, that killing a
communist was a good thing to do. Many policemen in
places I have been would just as soon kill a communist
as eat breakfast. They don't necessarily feel that way
toward libertarians.

	V:
	Are you saying that the movement has not
had to evolve to deal with this problem?

	PJ:
	What I am saying is that although our changes
are much more radical than the changes socialists or
communists would bring - what we have today is much
closer to what they are talking about than to what we
are talking about - as seen through the media and through
the image we are projecting, we are more mainstream
America. The socialists and communists know good and
well they are not mainstream America and have no chance
of portraying themselves that way. They want members
and no one is going to join the Communist Party if, when
the police start pounding down your door and you are sent
to prison, you get no support. The fact they are such
minor and victimized parties forces them to do that. If
libertarians would speak the truth, speak what is really
on their minds, they would find themselves becoming
more and more the victims of State aggression. We would
see more and more FBI activity in the Party and we might
be the victims of a few wiretaps, illegal searches, etc.
Basically, we have not attempted to portray ourselves as
an opposition and we have not used resistance to the State.
We really have not accepted that as a means to freedom.

	V:
	The libertarian movement of the 19th Century
used to accept that you opposed the State by openly
refusing to obey . . . Thoreau's On Civil Disobedience, for
example. Do you think the LP and the trend toward politics
has made the movement more conservative?

	PJ:
	Yes, I think that is it.  In fact, at the Denver
Convention, the only one I have been to, I was surprised at
how conservative  the movement was. Ed Clark ran for
President on a platform of gaining credibility. Although
we might be as radical as any other group or more radical
in our thoughts, it is our actions which will be viewed by
the media and other people and our actions are not radical,
except for a few cases. In those cases, a lot of people
seem to be afraid that we are going to look anti-American
or communist. It is true that more ignorant people tend to
associate any type of radicalism with communism, but on
the whole I don't think this is a problem. Most people view
us as a right wing group because we are not willing to take
strong stands and use resistance in civil liberties areas.

	V:
	How familiar are you with the tradition of
non-violent resistance?

	PJ:
	Not very. I have not read a whole lot about it.
During high school, I read Thoreau. I read Emerson and
Thoreau together and I tended to think Emerson was
worthless and loved Thoreau. Today, I think the left tends
to use Thoreau more than we do when, in reality,
libertarian anarchists should have a special place in their
hearts for Thoreau who used the motto: "That government
which governs least governs best," and then turns around
and takes it to its logical conclusion which is that it
governs not at all.

	V:
	What is the best way for the libertarian
movement to help you?

	PJ:
	There are numerous things. They should
support every form of resistance to the State. Number
one priority. In other words, they should support tax
resisters, draft resisters, those who resist regulations,
drug users, prostitutes, and so on. A lot of people in
this country are victims of the law. Others are resisting
and becoming victims and they should be our first
priority. Our goal is not to take over the government but
to stop the government from oppressing people,
victimizing people, and we should never lose sight of
that. It would be much better to never get anyone elected
and yet to free one person from prison than to elect
every official as a libertarian and leave that one person
in prison.
	Also, if you have the right attitude you tend
to do the right things. Another attitude libertarians need
to have is that they shouldn't worry about what the
majority of Americans think of any particular policy.
That is for the Democrats and Republicans to worry
about because they are the ones who are in office. They
are getting the majority of votes. What we have to do
continually is to say what we have to say. Social
Security is a great example. There is no way Ronald
Reagan or any Republican can come out and say he is for
making Social Security voluntary. The media would kill
him and he would!d lose the election. He doesn't want to
do that because he sees the possibility of winning. Now,
in any race the chances of our getting 5% are not as
good as the Republicans or Democrats winning, so we
shouldn't worry about infuriating 80% of the voters.
We should be attracting the 2 or 3 or 10% of the people
truly against State coercion, truly in favor of individual
liberty. I think we need to keep in mind what we are doing
is right and it doesn't matter how the majority views our
actions, only that our actions are designed to bring
freedom to people who otherwise would not have it.

	V:
	If you could resist registration publicly right
now, what would be your first priority? What is the most
important thing for public people to do?

	PJ:
	Go to the high schools. When registration
affected me I was 20 years old which is only two years
older than 18, but I had been to college for a year. I had
lived on my own, supporting myself. You are a lot older,
especially if you have supported yourself, at 20 than at
18. You have been out of the public education prison for
two years and have a different outlook. I wonder what I
would have done at 18. I'm sure I would not have
registered. I don't know if I would have been public about
it and I know I would have been much more frightened
about it. So I think the main thing to do is to go to the
high schools and the 18 year olds because they are the
ones who are affected now. Get information to them.
18 year olds have been much better than my age group
about the draft. I think it hurts to some degree that they
are in public school because they are getting the party
line, so to speak. But, at the same time, they can see the
draft is slavery because many of them see public
education as slavery; they are in it. So they definitely
understand government control and they are very
receptive. It also would be a tremendous recruiting
thing to hit high school students with anti-draft
literature and just let them find out on their own at
the end of your pamphlet where it says Libertarian Party
or Libertarian Draft Group, let them find out about
libertarianism that way. I think they would be a lot more
receptive to libertarianism if they were helped by
libertarians and then found out about the ideas than if
you tried to cram the whole libertarian philosophy down
their throats. Another good thing about that age group
is that, although high school teachers are statist,
college professors are much more statist, much more
willing to come out and admit it and better able to
defend statism. And I think that if we wait until
students are in college for a couple of years or out of
college, they have not only been in public schools and
gotten the government line, they have also had very
intelligent people give them plausible excuses for
believing it. I think there are a million and one good
reasons to go to your high school. There is a possibility
you will be thrown out. But you won't know until you try.

	V:
	They can't throw you off the sidewalks outside.

	PJ:
	Right.  And call the newspapers and television
and let them see that public education is not allowing
diversity of opinion to be seen by the students.

	V:
	Newspapers don't seem to be diverse in their
opinions themselves. Have you approached newspapers and
had them show disinterest or hostility?

	PJ:
	From what I have been able to gather, if I
called The Arkansas Gazette or the Arkansas Democrat
for an interview, as soon as I was through with the
interview, they called the FBI and told them I had called.
If I happened to sneak into Arkansas and go to the
Gazette office to do an interview, they called the FBI as
soon as it was through or, perhaps, while it was in
progress. So, they don't necessarily expand what little
freedom of the press they have. There is not a great deal
of diversity. And one of the things I noticed was that
before I was indicted, they didn't seem to think it was
tremendously newsworthy. Once I was indicted, once the
government made their move, then it became newsworthy
and this is the way the press has been. The government
makes its move, it is newsworthy; resistance continues,
it is not newsworthy. The government makes another
move, it is newsworthy. You know, maybe it is just the
fact that they tend to wait for the government to hand
them the story and then they print it. It varies. All
newspapers are not this way, but most of the ones I
have been in contact with are very much in tune with
the government and not so much in tune with what the
people believe is news.

	V:
	You have said elsewhere that you didn't go
to court because it would constitute sanctioning the
system, acknowledging its authority.

	PJ:
	Exactly.

	V:
	Do you think Sasway and Wayte made a mistake
in going to court or do you see value to what they did?

	PJ:
	I think you could say fairly that Sasway
made a mistake.
I think they both made a mistake, not a moral mistake
so much as a strategic one. Wayte's mistake was
obviously lessened by the fact that the indictment
was dismissed. But if registration can be beaten in
court, it sends a message to 18 year olds, "Hey, you
don't have to worry so much after all." It looks like
they could lose easily on appeal but, at least for the
publicity he got, it has been very helpful.

	V:
	But for you, the decision to bypass the
court system was a moral, not a strategic one?

	PJ:
	Right. To go to court is to allow the men
who have been appointed by politicians who started
the program in the first place to decide whether you
are innocent or guilty. Just because they put on black
robes doesn't mean they have a right to decide our
innocence or guilt. And what they are deciding on is
a legal system for which, by our very act of not
registering, we show no respect. We are concerned
with justice. They are concerned with legality.
There is a big difference between the two.

	V:
	If you are apprehended, have you made
any plans for dealing with the court?

	PJ:
	Yes, I have made plans. I don't see anything
wrong morally with raising pretrial arguments. In
other words, if I was apprehended, I would argue or
have a lawyer argue in a pretrial hearing that I was
selectively prosecuted for being the head of a political
party, that I didn't have a continuing duty to register,
that the program was instituted 21 days after the
regulations were printed in the Federal Register and
federal regulations say it has to be printed 30 days
after. I would use those pretrial arguments to say they
have no right to take me to court. But, once I was in
court, I don't even know if I would speak. I definitely
would not have a lawyer and, if I were free, if I weren't
chained, I would get up and walk out as often as I could.
You know, there is no reason for me to be there. I am
obviously guilty. As I said in my press statement, I am
guilty of placing my individual freedom above the State
power and I will do so every chance I get. Once I am
taken to court and put before a judge to decide whether
I am innocent or guilty, to me, it is a farce and I will
not participate.

	V:
	Is the FBI actively seeking you?

	PJ:
	As far as I know, yes.  There is no way to
know how actively they are seeking me. Obviously, they
have not gotten close enough to grab me. I don't want to
wait around to find out how close they are. But I know
from at least one experience that they are actively
investigating. A contact had a car parked outside his
house for a couple of weeks - a black sedan with a big
antenna. When he asked the police to check it out, they
said it was "legitimate". I think this means a policeman
or a federal agent of some kind. There were other
telltale signs that they are actively seeking my arrest.

	V:
	How effective do you think the FBI is at
tracking down non-registrants?

	PJ:
	If people don't register and don't make
public statements about their refusal to register, I
don't think there is anything to worry about. I don't
think they will ever be harassed or prosecuted in any
way. If they do make public statements, they stand a
good chance of eventually being contacted and perhaps
prosecuted. As for going underground and avoiding
prosecution, I feel that any day I decide to cut all
contact with the LP, the media and my family, they
stand absolutely no chance of catching me. I could
stay underground forever and a day as long as I didn't
contact those three groups. But wanting to continue
to speak out and add my weight to the resistance, I
will try to continue contact with those three groups.
If someone doesn't want to register and, once
prosecution begins, decides they don't want to
continue to be vocal, they stand almost a perfect
chance of avoiding prosecution.

	V:
	How long do you think you can live underground?

	PJ:
	I think I will stay underground for as
long as it is making a valid point, for as long as it
is worthwhile. The point I have been trying to make
is, for one, that the court system is not a place to
find justice and, therefore, should be avoided by
anyone who is truly seeking justice. Secondly, I want
to make the point to 18 year olds that if you are not
vocal and you are a non registrant you stand no chance
of being prosecuted. But even if you are vocal, it is
not a certainty that you are going to go to jail. You can
avoid prosecution just as you avoided registration.
Basically, as long as I think those two points are
important to make and the first one will remain
important - at no time will I march into court and
say, "Let's decide this", so the first one is always
important and the second one will continue to be
important - as long as what I am doing is accomplishing
something, I will stay underground. After that point, I
will have to make a decision.


		THE ETHICS OF VOTING
		by George H. Smith

		PART THREE
VII. Recapitulation

In Part Two of this article I sketched a theory of
institutional analysis whereby individuals, filling
institutional roles, contribute unintentionally to
the goals of an association (i.e., a designed
institution). Institutional analysis does not violate
the principles of methodological individualism. On
the contrary, anarchist theory relies on institutional
analysis for its coherence. Anarchists who defend
political office-holding and electoral voting cannot
reasonably do so by opposing institutional analysis
as such. Unless political libertarians are willing to
purge their vocabulary of all institutional terms
("State," "society," the "market," etc.) and all
institutional propositions (e.g., "the State is invasive
per se"), then their objections to voluntaryist
arguments will reek of insincerity.
	Of course, it is possible to accept institutional
analysis and yet object to its particular application
in the case against office-holding and voting. This is
the only viable approach open to political Anarchists.
Unfortunately, we possess no body of libertarian
theory which treats institutional analysis in detail,
so a discussion of the institutional features of voting
requires considerable preliminary groundwork. Having
discussed some procedural issues in Part One and
institutional analysis in Part Two, I shall now explore
how institutional analysis applies specifically to the
State and to offices in the State. Then I shall move
from institutional analysis considered descriptively
to the normative or moral implications of institutional
analysis. To what extent are those individuals who
work within an association morally and/or legally
responsible for the institutional products of that
association? This thorny area is undoubtedly the most
complex and controversial aspect of institutional
analysis, yet it must be addressed if the moral
implications of electoral voting are to be flushed
out. Anarchist theory will never advance beyond a
rudimentary level so long as this issue remains
unresolved.
	Modern States, I have argued, are designed
institutions. They did not emerge spontaneously from
the unplanned coordination of individuals pursuing
disparate goals (such as in social division of labor).
The State resembles a business organization; it was
designed and established to achieve specific goals,
and it has developed a sophisticated division of labor
which furthers these goals.
	This does not mean that all features of the
modern State are designed. Economists point out that
even rigidly structured business organizations and
political bureaucracies exhibit signs of spontaneous
order, often caused by internal competition for
positions of prestige and power. Nevertheless, there
are crucial differences between undesigned and
designed institutions. Associations (designed
institutions) coordinate individual actions to further
homogeneous and predetermined goals. An auto
factory, for instance, does not assemble workers,
allow them to do as they please, and then accept
whatever results from their unplanned interaction.
Associations impose a structure of internal
organization, a division of labor, to achieve
particular goals. Any spontaneous order within
the association is subordinated to these goals.
	Modern States, far from evolving spontaneously,
arose from the desire of political rulers to establish
territorial sovereignty. The State's spontaneous order
occurs within these parameters. A State cannot allow
developments that weaken its territorial sovereignty;
it reacts quickly and decisively against all threats.
The spontaneous order in society generally, on the
contrary, operates under no such constraints. Social
institutions may change drastically or die altogether
without the interposition of force to prevent these
changes. A similar hands-off policy is unthinkable for
States.

VIII. "Invasive Per Se": The Minarchist-Anarchist Debate

	The core of anarchism is the claim that the State
is necessarily invasive, or invasive per se. This is also
the point of contention between anarchism and
minarchism. If the basic institutional purpose of the
State is one which could be accomplished by voluntary
means, then the State is not necessarily invasive. If
one were to argue (however implausibly) that the
institutional purpose of the State is to deliver mail,
then the fact that existing States use invasive means
(taxation and a coercive monopoly) to provide this
service would have no direct bearing on the theoretical
question of whether invasive means must be employed
to accomplish this goal. A totally voluntary mail
service could be established; and if mail delivery is
the defining characteristic of the State, then we have
the theoretical possibility of a "voluntary State." In
this view, one could push for the elimination of the
invasive aspects of the current government until it is
pared down to its "proper" function of mail delivery. If
we substitute "defense of individual rights" for "mail
delivery" (one is as arbitrary as the other), we have
the minarchist argument for the possibility of a
non-invasive State.
	The anarchist rejects the argument that the
basic institutional purpose of the State is one which
could theoretically be achieved by voluntary means.
The anarchist considers the fundamental purpose of
the State to be territorial sovereignty, and this is
inherently invasive. Beginning with the libertarian
prohibition of invasive acts, the anarchist adds the
insight that the State is invasive per se - i.e., it
must commit invasive acts to fulfill its basic
purpose. When the nonaggression premise is applied
to this view of the State, the consequence is a total
rejection of the State on libertarian grounds. Thus,
as I argued in Part One, anarchism is more than
libertarianism. Anarchism is the nonaggression
axiom combined with a particular view of the State
- a view that relies on institutional analysis.
	The minarchist-anarchist debate revolves
around the essential (or defining) purpose of
government. Minarchists assert that the "proper"
function of government is defense of individual
rights, broadly conceived (police, military, and
judicial system). But it is unclear what "proper"
means here. If it means "morally proper" - i.e., the
State cannot legitimately exceed these boundaries
- then no anarchist will disagree. No institution,
by whatever name we call it, may properly violate
rights. But why the State should be the focus of
defense remains a puzzle. Minarchists must show
that States were designed (in a substantial number
of cases) with the defense of rights as a fundamental
purpose. Unfortunately for them, history does not
smile on this thesis. Territorial sovereignty was
clearly the purpose leading to the organization and
consolidation of modern States. This required a
monopoly of legitimized coercion to eliminate
potential competitors or those opposed to
sovereignty altogether. The State's monopoly on the
means of coercion left it little choice but to provide
a semblance of defense for its subject. The provision
of these "services" plays an important role in
legitimizing State rule (to preserve "law and order"),
without which mass compliance would be difficult to
achieve.
	The anarchist thesis - that the State is invasive
per se is an institutional judgment. It attributes an
invasive purpose not to every person who joins the
State but to the institution itself. Most of the State's
members may not personally care care about,or even
know of, arcane subjects like territorial sovereignty.
They may work for the State just to make a living.
Others may find satisfaction in wielding power, and
still others may have the sincere desire to accomplish
something worthwhile. Political libertarians usually
fall in the latter category. They see themselves as
harbingers of freedom. When it is pointed out that
their personal intentions - why they choose to join
the State - are an issue distinct from their objective
role within the State apparatus; and when it is argued
that, insofar as they fulfill their roles as political
office-holders, they thereby contribute to the
institutional goals of the State, they protest that
they do not personally aggress against anyone. Short
of catching them with a smoking revolver, they claim
exemption from the anarchist curse of the State and
its agents. (Never mind that the smoking revolver test
would exonerate the vast majority of State employees
from personal liability; such inconvenient details are
passed over by the political anarchist.)
	The political anarchist professes to "hate the
State" while avoiding a clear identification of who, or
what, constitutes "the State." Understandably, he does
not wish to agonize over how to exempt libertarian
members of the State from his supposed disdain. The
political anarchist "hates" the State but seems to
"love" the political offices that comprise the State.
How the State is anything more than the combination
of these offices acting in concert to attain institutional
goals, is yet another mystery. If consistency is too
much to expect of political anarchists, they might at
least explain what they mean when they say that the
State is invasive per se.

IX. A MORAL PROBLEM

	Political anarchists sometimes speculate on
which governmental jobs they may consistently hold.
They frequently distinguish between jobs which are
necessarily invasive (tax collection, conscription) and
jobs which, though financed coercively at present,
would be permissible in a free society (mail delivery,
school teaching). This dichotomy presumably answers
the question of when libertarians may work for the
State. A libertarian could work for the post office,
for example, since mail delivery is not inherently
invasive; but a libertarian could not work for the
Internal Revenue Service. In deciding whether a
libertarian could hold a political office, therefore,
we should determine to which of these categories
the office belongs.
	I have heard this argument many times, though
it has not received much attention in print. But the
proposed criterion - distinguishing State offices
which are invasive per se creates serious difficulties
for the political anarchist.
	Consider the argument that anarchists should not
work for the Internal Revenue Service because tax
collection is "invasive per se." Note how this assertion
immerses us in institutional analysis. For what does
it mean to say that the I.R.S. is "invasive per se"? It
does not mean that theft is the personal goal of every
I.R.S. employee. Nor does it mean that every I.R.S.
employee personally aggresses. The secretary, the
file clerk, the accountant, the computer programmer
- these and similar I.R.S. jobs do not require
aggression or threats of aggression.
	Clearly, when the political anarchist says that
the I.R.S. is invasive per se, he means that the
institutional purpose of the I.R.S. - the end to which
lesser roles contribute - is invasive per se. So if it
is impermissible for anarchists to work for the I.R.S.,
this is because institutional roles (jobs) in the I.R.S.
contribute to its invasive purpose of theft - even
though the roles themselves, considered in isolation,
do not require personal aggression by all employees.
	The same argument applies to employment with
the Selective Service, drug enforcement agencies, and
so forth. Only a minority of their employees personally
aggress. Yet it is generally assumed by political
anarchists that working for these invasive agencies
violates libertarian principles.
	This line of reasoning has devastating implications
for political anarchism. An anarchist, it is said, cannot
work for the I.R.S. or the Selective Service because these
agencies are "invasive per se." Yet we have seen that the
essence of anarchism lies in the claim that the State
itself is invasive per se. If the invasive nature of the
I.R.S. precludes anarchists working for it, then why
doesn't the invasive nature of the State preclude
anarchists working for it as well? If anarchists may not
hire themselves out to the I.R.S. even if they avoid
personal acts of aggression, then neither may they hire
themselves out to the State in general - which is also
invasive per se - even if they likewise avoid personal
acts of aggression.
	The political anarchist cannot have it both ways.
He cannot invoke the "invasive per se" test with tax
collection, conscription, drug enforcement, etc., and
yet disregard it for the State in general. The political
anarchist has two options: (1) He may deny that the
State is invasive per se, thus defining himself out of
anarchism; or (2) he may concede that an anarchist may
properly work for an agency that is invasive per se, so
long as the anarchist does not personally aggress.
Neither of these options is very palatable. The first
strips the political anarchist of his anarchist
credentials, while the second opens a Pandora's Box
of job opportunities for anarchists. If the political
anarchist seriously wishes to defend the propriety
of anarchists working for the I.R.S., Selective Service,
drug enforcement, the C.I.A. - the list goes on and on
- then let him make his case.
	The political anarchist is thus caught on the horns
of a dilemma. He cannot reject the "invasive per se"
criterion for the State while using it for particular
agencies in the State. He cannot deny institutional
objections to political office-holding, invoking the
smoking revolver test instead, while advancing
institutional objections against particular State
agencies, thereby discarding the smoking revolver
test when it suits his fancy.
	Thus, either the political anarchist must become
a voluntaryist, or he must introduce new (and hitherto
undreamed of) employment opportunities for
"anarchists." Either he must abandon the case for
political office-holding, or he must champion the
legitimacy of anarchist employment in a wide variety of
repulsive agencies. The latter is the only option short of
capitulation.

X. Office-Holding and State Membership

	The State, like all associations, has an identifiable
membership. The institutionalized power of the State is
a scarce resource; not everyone can benefit from its use
simultaneously. The fierce competition thus generated
for the control of State power necessitates membership
criteria to restrict entry.
	Membership criteria vary according to the form of
government. An accident of birth may qualify one for
membership in hereditary monarchies and aristocracies.
Some forms of aristocracy encouraged the sale of
political offices ("venal offices"), which then could be
transferred like private property.
	State membership in a democracy is theoretically
bestowed by popular election, or by appointment
authorized by a duly elected official.
	Whatever the membership requirements, an
office-holder acquires special privileges (legal rights)
denied to the public at large. On the lower levels of
State employment, this privilege may be nothing more
than a claim on tax revenue in the form of a regular
paycheck. As we ascend the hierarchy of power, however,
the privileges become more extensive. Higher level
office-holders enjoy considerable discretion in the
exercise of power.
	This power may be unlimited, as in despotism, or
restricted in some fashion, as in a constitutional republic.
But the privileges conferred by State offices always
entail legal rights denied to nonmembers.

	Political office bestows power on the occupant of
that office. Bertrand de Jouvenal (The Pure Theory of
Politics, Cam. bridge Univ. Press, 1963, p.118) makes
this point in an interesting way:

	In the museum at Corinth there are two statues,
	artistically worthless, which testify to the
	fashion under Roman rule of setting up in a place
	of vantage the standing figure of the governor.
	The sculptor has reproduced, with uninspired
	exactitude, every detail of the military costume
	borne upon occasions of state by the representative
	of the civitas imperans. Only the head is lacking,
	nor is it by accident: a hollow between the
	shoulders reveals grooves designed for the fitting
	of a removable head upon the massive body. Thus
	were the citizens spared the expense of putting up
	a new statue to honour a new governor: the old face
	was taken down and a new face was set in its
	stead. This can serve to symbolize established
	Authority. The statue has been set up at some
	previous time and lasts through many generations;
	but the face must be that of a living and active
	magistrate. The end of a life, or of a term, removes
	the transient head from the enduring shoulders.
	There is now a void to be filled, an opportunity for
	a new man to lift his head on to the shoulders of
	the statue ... A complex political system comprises
	many statues, and the procedures for lifting heads
	on to them are diverse.

	The legal rights of high political offices in the
United States are determined primarily by the
Constitution (including judicial interpretations of
the Constitution). We needn't engage in a lengthy
argument to show that political privileges thus
acquired run contrary to the principle of nonaggression.
A reading of the Constitution alone is sufficient.
Art. I, Sect. 10, for example, vests in Congress the
power "To lay and collect taxes, duties, imposts, and
excises ... To regulate commerce with foreign nations
... To coin money ... To establish post offices and build
roads ... To declare war ... To provide for calling forth
the militia to execute the laws of the Union," and so
forth. To say, as does Art. I, Sect. I, that these "powers"
are "vested in" Congress means that the physical might
of the State will be used to back up Congressional
decisions in these areas should any citizens disobey or
resist. Some members of the State, in other words, will
call on other members of the State (police, military,
etc.) to enforce their will.
	Members of Congress have immense power; their
decisions are backed by the physical coercion of the
State. If my neighbor decides to rob me, it is unlikely
that he can enlist the power the State to assist him.
But if a Senator decides to rob me (by voting for a tax
bill), the full weight of the State will fall on me
should I resist.
	Members of the State are thus allied in a common
cause; they share an enforcement mechanism whereby
their decisions will be enforced at the point of a gun.
An office-holder has objective power commensurate
with his legal rights. The more privileges he enjoys,
the more power he wields. This power exists
independently of what he decides to do with it. It
exists prior to any action he may take in office,
because it is inherent in the office. By the fact that
an individual qualifies for an office, he acquires the
legal rights of that office.
	Legal rights - privileges enforced by the State
- exist apart from their exercise, just as natural
rights do. A man has a natural right, say, to purchase
an aardvark, even though he may never actually purchase
an aardvark in his life. The right exists whether he
exercises it or not.
	Similarly, the office-holder acquires special legal
rights which exist independently of their exercise. The
Senator, for example, has the legal right to pass tax
laws - meaning that the State will back him up if he
does so. A particular Senator (e.g., a libertarian) may
never actually vote for a tax bill, but he has the legal
right nonetheless. The privilege resides in the office.
	A person elected to high political office allies
himself with the power of leviathan. He voluntarily
seeks and successfully achieves the privileges of
political office which permit him to aggress against
his neighbors - privileges enforced by the State.
	Such a person is a dangerous threat to innocent
persons everywhere. Not only has he captured a position
of immense power, but he also swears an oath of
allegiance to the Constitution and accepts payment
(i.e., stolen money) for "services rendered." When a
person voluntarily seeks and attains invasive power,
swears to enforce the rules that maintain his power,
and receives a handsome salary to boot, the conclusion
is inescapable: this person has become a full-fledged
member of the State. He accepts its privileges, pledges
his loyalty, and reaps its rewards. The protest of the
libertarian office-holder - that he intends to use his
power for beneficent ends - is beside the point. His
actions speak louder than words. He has joined the
"ruling class."

XI. The Ruling Class

	In the tradition of Mosca and Pareto, libertarian
anarchists embrace a theory of the ruling class based
on political, rather than economic, criteria. Those who
hold positions of significant political power, according
to this view, are members of the "ruling class."
	Political anarchists are hard-pressed to reconcile
their ruling class theory with their advocacy of political
action. Political criteria for the ruling class will
include libertarian politicians in their purview. The
specific behavior of politicians does not determine
whether they are part of the ruling elite. (A congressman
does not leave the ruling class when he votes correctly
and re-enter when he votes incorrectly.) Rather, those
who hold significant positions of power in the State
belong to the ruling class, regardless of what they do
with their power. This includes libertarian office-holders.
	Ruling class theory is just one of many areas where
the political anarchist dodges the implications of his
own theories. Sooner or later these issues must be
confronted. Is the libertarian congressman objectively
a member of the ruling class? If not, why not? If so,
then presumably a "ruling class" is not necessarily evil
or undesirable by anarchist standards. This, too, requires
some explaining.

XII. The Paradox of Liability

	In the earlier parts of this essay I touched on an
important subject without examining it in detail. Why
is it, I asked, that "anarchists often impute greatest
liability to the highest levels of political decision-making
(presidents, legislators, etc.). even though these levels
are far removed from physical enforcement"? I suggested
that such judgments occur within an institutional
framework, according to the role played by political
offices in sustaining State power. We are now able to
expand on this insight.
	We are addressing what I call the "paradox of
liability." As we ascend the hierarchy of political offices
we become more distant from the enforcement arms of
government. But we also come closer to those persons
who are, in a sense, most responsible for the State's
invasive activities. (As I pointed out in Part Two,
"There were more condemnations of President Johnson
during the Vietnam War than of individual bomber
pilots.")
	Perhaps ascribing liability to high political offices
is a mistake. Perhaps anarchists should blame only those
who literally use physical violence (which would
exonerate Hitler, Stalin, and others of their ilk). This
approach causes more problems than it solves, however,
not the least of which is the gutting of anarchist theory.
It is safe to assume that most anarchists subscribe to
some version of the liability paradox.
	But does this paradox make sense? Should not the
person who actually commits a crime be more liable
than the politician who authorizes or commands it? In
a sense, yes. A soldier who kills innocent civilians is
guilty of murder, pure and simple. He is fully liable for
his action. But the invasion of the individual soldier is
relatively limited in scope. He may murder, but he does
not determine the policy that authorizes murder on a
vast scale. This is a privilege reserved for high political
office (in most cases).
	In a war crimes trial, President Johnson would not
be as liable for a particular murder as the person who
physically committed the act. But Johnson shares some
liability for a vast number of similar acts. His degree of
liability for a particular murder may be less, but his
range of liability is far greater.
	Consider another example: the tax agent who
physically expropriates the property of a tax resister
or drags him off to jail. Would congressmen who support
taxes be as culpable as the tax agent who actually
commits the foul deed? Probably not. They would be
accomplices rather than principals. But the congressmen
are accomplices to many such invasive acts - far more
than can be perpetrated by a single agent. Although the
degree of liability may be less for the congressmen than
for the perpetrator, the scope of liability is far greater.
	This is only a suggestion. A libertarian theory of
liability awaits more work before any solution to the
liability paradox can hope to be securely grounded. But I
think my suggestion is a plausible step in the right direction.
Its two components may be summarized as follows:
	First, high political offices possess greater power
(more privileges and wider discretion to dispense power)
than enforcement personnel. Fundamental decisions are
made at this level; this is where invasive policies originate.
	Second, because the decisions of political
office-holders are more fundamental, they are also more
general in scope than the decisions of enforcement
personnel. Their applicability is broader, because political
decisions reverberate throughout the State and throughout
the territory over which it claims sovereignty. Thus,
when we say that President Johnson was "more
responsible" for murders than individual bomber
pilots, we mean:
	(1) President Johnson, utilizing the power of his
office, made fundamental decisions that set the State
apparatus in motion.
	(2) President Johnson was responsible, to whatever
degree, for a broader range of casualties (a greater
number of murders) than any individual bomber pilot.

XIII.     Political Offices as the Manifestation of Sovereignty

	The paradox of liability helps us to understand how
political offices bolster State sovereignty. High offices
are distinguished by their fundamentality and scope.
Therefore, we may reasonably expect territorial
sovereignty - the fundamental goal of the State - to be
embodied in the most powerful offices. This is indeed
what we find. The guardianship of State sovereignty is
the most significant institutional role of high offices.
They are designed to preserve and promote that
sovereignty; and this purpose is served regardless of
who occupies the office, so long as the occupant meets
the demands of his job. (See the discussion of the auto
worker in Part Two.)
	E.T. Hiller, in A Study in Principles of Sociology
(Harper and Row, 1947, pp.581-6), describes the relation
between offices and the association they comprise:

	Various functions are required to maintain an
	association and promote its aims. These functions,
	when standardized, constitute statuses which are
	usually referred to as offices. An office consists of
	the delegated administrative, executive, supervisory,
	and ceremonial functions belonging to an association
	(whether public or private, official or voluntary). It
	comprises prescribed, institutionalized duties and,
	comparable rights and privileges ... The office is an
	expression of the special aim or aims of the association
	... In each type of association the authority of an office
	is derived from the aim to which the association is
	committed, the authority proceeding from the higher
	to the lower ranking positions ... An office ... is an
	established system of social relations which constitutes
	a part of the social organization. By entering [an office]
	the incumbent is required to play the specified part in
	maintaining the given social structure.

	The highest legislative, executive, and judicial
offices are the incarnation of sovereignty. This was
obvious to the framers of the Constitution, even if it
escapes many political libertarians. Assertions of
sovereignty precede the enumeration of powers for
each branch of government. To wit:
		Art.I, Sect.I:
"All legislative powers herein granted shall be vested in
a Congress of the United States .. ."
		Art.II, Sect.I:
"The executive power shall be vested in a President of
the United States of America."
		Art.III, Sect.I:
"The judicial power of the United States shall be vested
in one Supreme Court, and in such inferior courts as the
Congress may from time to time ordain and establish."

	Note well the wording. "All legislative powers,"
"The executive power," "The judicial power."
An absolute monopoly of these functions is proclaimed at
the outset - a monopoly enforced at the point of a gun. No
competition can ever be permitted at this level. The State
could abandon its monopoly on virtually every "public
service" and yet remain a sovereign entity. But it cannot
surrender its monopoly of political decision-making
without surrendering its sovereign lifeblood.
	Major political offices thus embody the basic claim
of sovereignty: that members of the State have the sole
legal right to rule a certain territory. If power reflects a
spirit of arrogance - the impertinence that one person
has the right to tell another person how to live - then
political office is the body in which that spirit dwells.
	Suppose a libertarian Senator votes against every
piece of invasive legislation. Can he be held accountable
for that legislation, if it passes despite his opposition?
No. But that Senator is responsible for sustaining State
power on a more fundamental, if less obvious, level. In
filling his role as Senator - taking his oath of office,
exercising his monopoly privilege to decide how we shall
be ruled, etc. - he furthers the basic institutional goal
of the State: territorial sovereignty. By accepting the
framework in which the State operates, by capitulating
to its conditions and demands, by voluntarily joining
the "ruling class," thereby acquiring legal privileges
backed by leviathan - in a myriad of ways does the
libertarian politician do all that the State requires
of him.
	The libertarian politician, brimming with good
intentions. believes that he will use the State to further
his ends. The sad truth is that the State will use the
libertarian politician to further its ends.
 
ON-GOING STUDY GROUPS:

Carl Water is conducting a "free university" class in
"voluntaryism" at Johns Hopkins University in Baltimore,
Maryland, Classes begin on March 16 and will run for
8 weeks.

	Two groups, one in the planning stages and the
other conducting on-going meetings, are dealing with
the nonviolent strategies suggested by Gene Sharp.
A Los Angeles area study group, organized by Wendy
McElroy and George Smith, has been meeting since late
January and have,been using Sharp's The Politics of
Nonviolent Action as their text. Dyanne Petersen and
Chuck Hamilton in New York City are organizing a
similar study group.

	For further information regarding cassette tapes
or study group information, please contact
The Voluntaryists.
Carl Watner

		Statement of Purpose

The Voluntaryists are libertarians who have organized
to promote non-political strategies to achieve a free
society. We reject electoral politics, in theory and in
practice, as incompatible with libertarian principles.
Governments must cloak their actions in an aura of moral
legitimacy in order to sustain their power, and political
methods invariably strengthen that legitimacy.
Voluntaryists seek instead to delegitimize the State
through education, and we advocate withdrawal of the
co-operation and tacit consent on which State power
ultimately depends.