L'HISTOIRE D'UNE BRIGADE

by Marion Ronca

Marianne Enckell

A conversation with Marianne Enckell about her work and her worldview

Directly behind the cantonal hospital in Lausanne, in the middle of a small park, there is a house surrounded by old cedars and a vegetable garden. A wooden sign discretely announces the existence of an unusual library: the CIRA Đ International Center for Research on Anarchism.

The CIRA was founded at the end of the 1950's in Geneva, by conscientious objectors from France and Italy. When they had to leave Switzerland a few years later, its administration was taken over by Marianne Enckell and her mother. Several years ago, the CIRA relocated to Lausanne, where it now has its permanent location.

The collection of the CIRA includes some 15,000 books and brochures, as well as a large number of videos, music cassettes and posters.

Marianne Enckell has been taking care of the CIRA for the past forty years without salary. We talked to her about the unusual library and its visitors, about the application of anarchist principles in everyday life, about Switzerland, and about her advice to today's youth.

Marion Ronca (M.R.): Which functions does the CIRA serve? What types of visitors come here?

Marianne Enckell (M.E.): The CIRA is first and foremost a library, where documents can be consulted on the spot or, in some cases, can be loaned out. Many documents can also be checked out long- distance, per post. Visits are sporadic; sometimes four people come on one afternoon, sometimes none. Sometimes visitors are people from around here, school children, students, or militants, or they are just curious. Sometimes they are researchers who come to Lausanne from other countries in order to pursue specific research work. These people usually come not only to read, but also to talk and to get to know the people from the CIRA. It's always nice when people get to know each other at the CIRA. Once, a French researcher and a Japanese researcher, who were both writing about anarchist movements in China, were both visiting the CIRA on the same day and got to talking with one another. Young visitors often like to talk, too. They are intimidated by the sheer numbers of the documents and don't know where to begin looking. That's why we always do our best to make the library as visitor-friendly as possible; for example, we always put the new issues of periodicals right at the entrance. Generally, we try to organize this space so that people can search and work as independently as possible. The ones who are happiest are always the ones who are a bit curious by nature, even at the cost of efficiency. This also applies to the librarians, who are either researchers themselves and work part-time at the CIRA, or young men who are doing their civilian service here. The videos also tend to draw more and more people in, the longer they are. Sometimes that makes me grumble a little bit, because the tapes get pushed into the VCR one after another, and people just make themselves at home on the couch and then thank you as they're leaving. If they say thank you at all...

M.R.: There are, to a certain extent, two different types of documents: contemporary and more historical. Do they attract a different type of audience?

M.E.: Things cross over. For example, feminists or anarcho-feminists often think of their movement as something new. Here, they discover that there were women in Austria and Argentina at the end of the 19th Century who swore Neither God, nor master, nor man. They marvel at the realization that, over a century ago, there existed a very clear concept of the struggle against Capitalism and against the state, as well as against oppressive conditions in the family. Knowledge of the history of anarchism can be very helpful in enriching current discourse. In any event, I think that any activity, whether militant, creative or everyday, that has no memory is much more fragile than one which knows where its origin lies. It runs the risk of being quickly forgotten, just like last year's fashion. Perhaps that can be attributed to certain comforts of Liberalism. The fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989 led to the loss of the fruitful and interactive tension between Capitalism and Communism, so that now we are left with only the political hegemony of the United States. One used to be able to say: Neither Washington nor Moscow. There was a debate. After the fall of Communism, the world fell into in a political vacuum for a while.

Suddenly, things are taking off again. But young people don't necessarily have knowledge of the past, though, and they aren't particularly eager to follow in the footsteps of their elders -- they want to invent something new. Gradually, however, they develop a desire for knowledge. You want to have some kind of reference point - not just outwardly, but inside the group as well - because conflicts may arise. Whether the discussion is about the WEF or the Zapatistas or the gender conflict then makes no difference. Debate is one thing, but reading and references are equally indispensable and useful, because elsewhere, similar experiences have already been made.

M.R.: No need to reinvent the wheel... Do you know of any communities today that operate autonomously according to anarchist principles?

M.E.: Self-administration is one aspect of anarchist practice. Sometimes, anarchists who are highly involved in the social struggle in cities, in unions or in the labor movement in a wider sense are pitted against anarchists living in communities outside of the city. In principle, I believe that these communities come from a movement that calls itself individualistic anarchy; in spite of collective organization, the individual retains his or her importance and doesn't get lost in the masses of a demonstration or anonymous struggle. If these communities don't collapse under the everyday workload - as could be the case in the Alps, for example, where is so tired in the evening one that one doesn't want to debate anymore Đ then they definitely have their share in the movement. They prove that another life is possible, a life without money and without hierarchical structures.

This type of community can be found all over, but most of them are able to survive above all because they exist on the edge of a wealthy society and are able to live by recycling, to a great extent. But this is primarily true for Central Europe. In Argentina, for example, it is significantly more difficult. There, still-usable objects don't just get thrown away. You hardly find anything on the street, and you can't just go to the supermarket and ask for slightly moldy vegetables. Another difference is that, in our part of the world, we can rely on social welfare and are therefore never completely without means.

There are a few autonomous communities in the Pyrenees, mostly in areas where the climate isn't too harsh. Then, there are also communities of a somewhat different form, in which the people no longer have to live there during the entire year but spend only a few months of the year there. They rotate. In this way, they can live in an ideal communal form out in the country without completely relinquishing city life. This is a kind of realizable utopia. Another example are communities which have settled in abandoned Spanish villages, where sometimes the entire region is abandoned and the people have to be much more strongly organized.

Often, problems arise which are completely unforeseen: a factory pollutes the ground water; children need to be vaccinated or put into school.

At the beginning of the last century there was an anarchist author who had already analyzed such communal forms. He was of the opinion that those with a religious basis are able to survive the longest. For one, because faith helps people to endure difficult situations and, for another, because it constitutes a sort of authority. In my opinion, the communities that survive the longest are the ones that no longer pose a threat to society. They have been forced to make compromises, and are no longer subversive. There is an autonomous community in Uruguay that has been in existence for fifty years now. They live from agriculture, a printing shop, and the production of ceramics. This community has been through a lot of ups and downs; its members were forced into exile in Sweden for fifteen or twenty years during one of the various Uruguayan episodes of dictatorship. The police arrested all the adults and left the children and the elderly to fend for themselves. With the help of Amnesty International, they were able to get asylum. Some of them returned to Uruguay in the 1980's. Some, especially the younger ones, stayed in Sweden, some founded communities elsewhere. These communities can also be threatened from within, of course. For one thing, there are the dangers of conformity and unchallenged conventions, which can be particularly problematic for young people. This is why many long-existing communities have copied the model of the Kibbutz, where young people have to leave the community for one year at age eighteen, in order to see the world. Another danger that is often underestimated is that of curious people, of tourists and journalists. In the long term, the feeling of being on display can become extremely exhausting.

M.R.: Is there a kind of community around the CIRA? How many of you are there?

M.E.: For a long time, I took care of the CIRA together with my mother. Today she is handicapped, in a wheelchair, and can no longer speak. There were always people around the CIRA, who would help out for a few years and then moved on. We are also always trying to recruit users of the CIRA to help with its administration. Since we have the vegetable garden, many friends of the CIRA associate physical labor with intellectual labor. Yes, books and potatoes go well together. Then there are the young men who absolve their civilian service here at the CIRA. They usually stay for a few months. We don't really have regular meetings. Sometimes, someone will call and say: »I'll come every two weeks on Wednesday afternoon.« That's practical, I just prepare the things that need to be done, and then people can work independently.

M.R.: How does the future look? Will the CIRA stay here?

M.E.: As long as we are able to keep this house, and as long as I'm not completely senile, of course we will stay here. It is an advantage to be able to stay in one location, because that location always has to be in working order. You have to know people in the area who can help out. It's also important that there are accommodations available for people who come from other countries and may want to stay a little bit longer.

In Lausanne, we have very good contacts to people from Espace Autogéré, which is a very spirited and dynamic place. We have also organized meetings there, on the subject of »Free Education«, for example. You can cook there and smoke there, that's really practical.

M.R.: Let's move on to the personal questions. What is your life philosophy?

M.E.: I was very young when I was introduced to anarchism. I got to know people who had some ideas that were appealing to me. The way that they dealt with one another impressed me. I was a student in Geneva then. There were intellectuals, old proletarians, and pacifists, as well as people prone to violence. But first and foremost, my choice is the CIRA. I've been doing this work without pay for forty years. I do some other things, too, but I try to sustain myself and live a little discreetly, because if I were to be arrested and sent to prison for three months, it certainly wouldn't be beneficial to the CIRA.

Of course, there are basic principles regarding the equality of all people and the expansion of personal as well as collective freedom with which I agree completely. The anarchist idea is often incorrectly cited by people who say: »My freedom ends where the freedom of another begins.« In my opinion, the opposite is true. The more freedom I have, the more freedom others have, as well. In order to be able to function within this freedom, I decided I didn't want to pursue a professional career. In such systems, it's inevitable that you eventually land either in the category of the oppressor or the oppressed. Giving and obeying orders are both equally unpleasant to me. I am not married, I survive with little money, try to live in harmony with my ideas Đ even though I do some stupid things, like smoke or drive my car to the supermarket. I suppose I act somewhat as a mediator between the documents in the CIRA and the people who want to change things. Sometimes I take part in projects for refugees or against prisons. I know a lot of people who have had to go to prison for conscientious objection to war or military service, and that sensitized me. For a long time, I worked in labor unions; since today I am self-employed, I have less need for that. I've seen a lot of movements from the inside Đ the women's strike in the '90's, May '68. That enables me to better understand and appreciate contemporary movements. I am often impressed by how smoothly some meetings run, because I know how easily they can end up in endless discussions.

M.R.: What do you think of Switzerland, the country you live in?

M.E.: Yes, I do live in Switzerland. I don't go vote. It's easy to leave Switzerland. On the one hand, I feel at home in Switzerland, on the other, this country gets on my nerves. We'll have to wait a long time before anything changes in Switzerland. By the way, that is the greatest success of Swiss democracy Đ the prevention of change. It may be able avert a dictatorship of the radical right or left, but it also makes processes of change extremely cumbersome and slow.

M.R.: Do you have any advice for young people today?

M.E.: No, I can't give any advice, I'm not old enough for that yet. You have to stick with it. Well, young people... The young people who I see more often don't go to McDonald's, and if they do, then in secret. They read, make music, are conscious of what they eat, sometimes they smoke too much hash. I don't need to teach them anything. I don't know young people who are completely mainstream, passive consumer addicts. Yes, if I have any advice for them, it would be this: Don't allow yourself be lamed and passively integrated by the system; listen to the sounds of the world and know how to differentiate them.

CENTRE INTERNATIONAL DE RECHERCHES SUR L'ANARCHISMES

Bibliothèque du CIRA

24, avenue de Beaumont, CH - 1012 Lausanne tel. fax: +41 (0) 21 652 35 43

The library is open weekdays from 4-7 p.m., or by appointment. (The library is closed in August)