Long before the word "anarchism" entered the lexicon, its spirit pulsed through human history. It thrived in the philosophies, spiritual traditions, and everyday practices of people who resisted domination and sought harmony—between themselves, their communities, and the world around them. These roots reveal that anarchism is not a modern invention but a reflection of something deeply human: the yearning for a free and cooperative existence.

Take Lao Tzu (6th Century BCE), for example, whose Tao Te Ching whispers truths about the dangers of rigidity and the wisdom of natural balance. "The Tao that can be told is not the eternal Tao," he writes, urging us to shed attachment to abstract ideals and live in accordance with the flow of life. The anarchist refusal to bow to artificial authority finds its echo here, in the Taoist embrace of spontaneity and self-organization.

Zhuangzi (4th–3rd Century BCE), too, speaks to this. His parables laugh at those who cling to power or try to shape the world to their narrow will. Instead, he offers the vision of a life unencumbered by hierarchy—a life where freedom is found in letting go and trusting the organic relationships that bind us to each other and to the earth.

Even within the spiritual traditions of the West, we see this thread. Jesus of Nazareth (c. 30–33 CE), in his radical insistence that "the last will be first," turned power structures on their heads. His message of solidarity with the oppressed and rejection of material greed aligns with the anarchist principle that true freedom comes only when all are free.

Across the globe, indigenous communities (Prehistory–Present) engaged in mutual aid and decision-making through consensus, often organizing without centralized authority. From the Haudenosaunee Confederacy (c. 12th–18th century) to egalitarian hunter-gatherer societies, these practices highlight how cooperation and collective responsibility have been vital to human survival. Their traditions challenge the assumption that hierarchy is a natural or inevitable aspect of human organization, revealing it instead as a constructed system.

As cooperative and egalitarian ideas began to crystallize in the 18th and 19th centuries, they encountered new challenges and possibilities. This era saw the emergence of anarchist thought as a distinct philosophy, intertwined with and sharpened by the revolutionary critiques of Marxism. The interplay between these traditions exposed the complexities of domination and exploitation, ultimately deepening the anarchist commitment to dismantling hierarchy in all its forms.

William Godwin (1793–1830s), often considered the first to articulate proto-anarchist ideas, set the stage with his 1793 work Political Justice. He rejected the legitimacy of authority and envisioned a society organized around rational cooperation and mutual aid. Godwin’s critique of government as a coercive force opened the door to what would later become a cornerstone of anarchist thought.

Pierre-Joseph Proudhon (1840–1865) built upon these ideas in 1840 with his provocative declaration, “Property is theft!” Proudhon exposed how private ownership concentrated power and perpetuated inequality, proposing instead a mutualist system of equitable exchange where workers controlled their own labor. Yet, while Proudhon’s analysis struck at the heart of exploitation, it left intact the abstraction of money as a neutral medium, overlooking its role in perpetuating capitalist domination.

Here, Marxist critique proved invaluable. Karl Marx (1844–1883) demonstrated that it was not just the ownership of property but the very structure of the commodity form and the abstraction of money that generated exploitation under capitalism. By reducing human labor to an exchangeable unit, the system commodified workers themselves, perpetuating alienation and inequality. Marx’s incisive analysis revealed that capitalism’s core mechanism—the drive to accumulate surplus value—could not be reformed but must be abolished.

Anarchists, however, took Marx’s insights further. While Marx focused on the abolition of class society through the control of the means of production, anarchists like Mikhail Bakunin (1860s–1870s) extended this critique to encompass the state itself. For Bakunin, the state was not merely an instrument of class rule but an oppressive hierarchy in its own right, requiring dismantlement alongside capitalism. In this way, anarchists synthesized Marxist economic critique with a broader opposition to domination, whether in the form of the state, religion, or even internalized hierarchies.

Mikhail Bakunin took Marx’s materialist critique of capitalism and extended it to the state, offering one of the most compelling anarchist visions of his time. For Bakunin, the state was not a neutral instrument that could be wielded for liberation but a structure of domination inseparable from oppression. He saw state socialism, as advocated by Marx, as a dangerous replacement for capitalist hierarchy—a system that would simply replace one elite with another. Bakunin warned that entrusting power to a centralized authority, no matter how noble its stated intentions, would inevitably reproduce the same patterns of coercion, inequality, and control. In his view, true freedom could only arise from decentralized, voluntary cooperation, rooted in collective decision-making and mutual aid.

But the anarchist critique didn’t stop with Bakunin. Friedrich Nietzsche (1870s–1900) pushed the boundaries of thought further, unveiling the insidious ways power operates not only through institutions but within the fabric of culture and morality itself. Nietzsche exposed how abstract ideals—such as morality, duty, and even "truth"—are tools of control, used to suppress individual creativity and autonomy.

He argued that replacing one institutionalized set of values, such as capitalism, with another, like the moral codes of state socialism, would not lead to liberation but to a new kind of bondage. Instead, Nietzsche called for the abandonment of institutionalized morality altogether, advocating a life of self-overcoming and freedom from imposed norms. His critique resonated deeply with Taoist ideas of relinquishing control and embracing the natural flow of life, further enriching the philosophical foundations of anarchism.

Building on these insights, Peter Kropotkin (1870s–1917) emerged as a visionary who synthesized anarchism’s many threads into a cohesive and practical philosophy. In The Conquest of Bread and Mutual Aid, Kropotkin demonstrated how cooperation, rather than competition, is the driving force of both human and evolutionary survival. He argued that mutual aid—care, solidarity, and collective action—was not only a moral imperative but the natural order of life.

Kropotkin envisioned an anarchist society as a dynamic, adaptable system, not a rigid institutional structure. Instead of conferring power onto individuals, offices, or bureaucracies, anarchism would subvert power preventively, organizing society around free-flowing principles that allowed people to respond to their needs and contexts in real time.

Anarchist thought deepened as it evolved, grappling with not only systemic structures of domination but also the more insidious ways power manifests in human relationships and consciousness. Each new thinker uncovered previously hidden dynamics of coercion, enriching anarchist philosophy with sharper critiques and more profound visions for a free and cooperative society.

Nestor Makhno (1917–1921) brought anarchism into the realm of lived praxis, offering a roadmap for how anarchist principles could function on a large scale. During the Russian Civil War, Makhno led the Makhnovshchina, a decentralized, self-managed society in Ukraine that resisted both capitalist forces and the centralized Bolshevik state. Makhno’s contribution to anarchist thought was practical: he demonstrated that local autonomy, mutual aid, and direct action could sustain resistance and build alternative structures even in the face of immense external pressures.

What Makhno added to anarchism was the realization that theory could not be static—it needed to adapt dynamically to context. His refusal to consolidate power or create rigid hierarchies within the movement emphasized the anarchist commitment to decentralization as an active principle, not just a theoretical ideal. Makhno proved that anarchism’s strength lay in its flexibility and its trust in people’s capacity to organize their lives without coercion.

Emma Goldman (1890s–1930s) revolutionized anarchist thought by extending its critique of power into personal relationships, particularly those between men and women. She argued that freedom could not exist while patriarchal structures dominated even the most intimate aspects of life. For Goldman, marriage was not merely a social institution but a mechanism of economic and psychological control, binding women to roles of servitude and dependence. She showed how love itself, under systems of domination, could become another tool of oppression, twisted by expectations, ownership, and sacrifice demanded of women.

Goldman’s vision of love, however, was anarchistic: a free, voluntary connection rooted in mutual respect, where neither partner held power over the other. This critique sharpened anarchism by showing that liberation could not stop at dismantling state and capitalist hierarchies—it had to subvert all forms of power, even those embedded in cultural norms and personal relationships. Her insights demonstrated that the anarchist project wasn’t just about transforming external systems; it was about reshaping how we relate to one another at the most fundamental levels.

Aldous Huxley (1930s–1960s) took anarchist philosophy to a deeper, existential level, showing that power doesn’t just exist in external institutions or relationships—it infiltrates our consciousness and shapes how we see the world and ourselves. In his exploration of the “perennial philosophy,” Huxley argued that the boundaries we perceive—between self and other, subject and object—are illusions created by the ego’s need for control. He aligned with Taoist and Buddhist thought, emphasizing interdependence and the interconnected nature of existence.

For Huxley, true freedom required dissolving the ego and recognizing that the self is not an isolated, dominating entity but part of an interdependent whole. He rejected the idea of replacing one rigid system with another, warning that institutionalizing any ideology—whether capitalist or socialist—recreates the same patterns of domination. Instead, Huxley called for a disposition of openness, adaptability, and harmony with life’s natural flow, echoing anarchism’s rejection of rigid authority and its embrace of mutual aid as life’s natural state.

By uncovering the relationship between power and consciousness, Huxley extended anarchism’s critique into the realm of being itself. He showed that freedom isn’t just about dismantling external hierarchies but about transforming how we understand and live within the world. This insight pushed anarchism beyond political theory into a holistic philosophy of life, one that aligns with the interdependent nature of existence and creates conditions for people to express themselves authentically while complementing their environment rather than exploiting it.

Anarchist philosophy continued to evolve and encompass not just politics and economics but the environment, personal practice, symbolic systems, and the very fabric of human existence. The thinkers of this era revealed that anarchism is not merely a rejection of hierarchy but a profound embrace of interdependence, adaptability, and the continuous pursuit of freedom at every level of life. This perennial philosophy offers a vision of a world where individuals and communities thrive in harmony, recognizing that liberation is both a collective and personal journey.

Murray Bookchin (1960s–1980s) fundamentally reshaped anarchism by introducing ecology as a central concern. He argued that hierarchical domination over nature mirrored the hierarchies within human societies. In his work on social ecology, Bookchin demonstrated that environmental destruction is not merely a byproduct of industrial capitalism but a reflection of its logic: a system built on control, exploitation, and short-term profit inevitably consumes the very ecosystems it depends on.

Bookchin furthered anarchism by showing that dismantling capitalism and the state was insufficient—anarchism must also dismantle the human-nature divide and foster a society based on ecological harmony. By linking the liberation of humanity with the health of the environment, Bookchin redefined anarchism as not just a social and political movement but an environmental one, rooted in a deep understanding of our interdependence with the natural world.

Maharishi Mahesh Yogi (1950s–1970s) took anarchist philosophy inward, showing how freedom is not only a collective endeavor but also a deeply personal practice. His introduction of Transcendental Meditation (TM) provided a practical method for individuals to explore and transform their inner lives. TM resonates with Huxley’s insight that freedom is not simply about dismantling external hierarchies but about reimagining how we live and understand our existence.

Judith Butler (1990s–Present) took this internal critique further, demonstrating in The Psychic Life of Power how power structures are not merely external but deeply internalized. Butler argued that humans need symbols to navigate the world and act within it, but these symbols often become rigid, reified systems of control. Her work sharpened Nietzsche’s critique by showing how symbolic systems—like gender, morality, and identity—are both necessary and contingent.

Butler revealed that it is impossible to escape these systems entirely, but it is essential to continually reflect on and challenge them, especially when they become institutionalized within our own psyche or relationships. She added to anarchist thought by highlighting the importance of recognizing the fluidity of norms and refusing to let any set of symbols dominate our understanding of ourselves or our interactions. For Butler, freedom requires an ongoing process of critique and reinvention, both internally and socially.

Maharishi’s practice emphasized sitting with oneself, confronting the ego, and observing the interplay between internal beliefs and external influences. TM teaches individuals to accept that their thoughts are shaped by this complex interaction, while simultaneously providing a means to step back from it, creating a space where ego and interdependence coexist without domination. By bringing anarchism into the realm of personal practice, Maharishi showed how individuals could internalize its principles and live them out, even within a world still shaped by systems of power.

David Graeber (2000–2020) brought anarchism full circle, grounding its philosophy in the historical and anthropological realities of human society. He deepened Kropotkin’s understanding of mutual aid by demonstrating how it has been a fundamental organizing principle of human communities throughout history. Graeber showed that for most of our existence, humans have lived in flexible, adaptable societies that recognized the contingencies of social norms and rearranged their structures whenever needed. While these societies were never entirely free from abstract ideals, they avoided the rigid hierarchies that characterize capitalism and the state.

Graeber also revealed how capitalism, far from being a natural economic order, is a political and social project designed to limit freedom. Its grow-or-die profit logic depends on fostering dependency, coercing people into systems of wage labor, debt, and consumption. By exposing capitalism as a deliberate restriction of human potential, Graeber enriched anarchist philosophy with a clearer understanding of how freedom has been systematically undermined. He showed that anarchism isn’t an abstract ideal but a return to the more fluid, adaptable ways of living that humanity has practiced for millennia, while also pushing these practices further through the recognition of symbolic contingencies and the internalization of power.