Humanity’s history is punctuated by moments of upheaval, conflict, and dramatic social change. These events are often referred to as revolutions, but it is worth questioning whether any of these occurrences truly qualify as revolutionary. Is it accurate to say that humanity has experienced revolutions, or should we more properly describe these moments as rebellions—temporary disruptions that, while significant, ultimately reinforce the existing structures they sought to dismantle?
Albert Camus, in his philosophical musings on rebellion and revolution, offers a lens through which to view this distinction. Camus was deeply interested in the nature of rebellion—what compels humans to rise up against oppression, injustice, or suffering, and how such actions lead not necessarily to transformation, but to a cyclical return to the status quo. His insights are invaluable in understanding why humanity might not have truly experienced a revolution in its purest form, but rather a series of rebellions that express discontent without fundamentally altering the underlying systems of power, control, and societal structure.
To explore this idea, we must first consider what we mean by “revolution.” In the conventional sense, a revolution is often defined as a complete and radical change, a fundamental overthrow of an existing order, and the creation of something entirely new. However, this definition is problematic. Historical events that we refer to as revolutions—the French Revolution of 1789, the Russian Revolution of 1917, or the American Revolution of 1776—did indeed topple existing governments and regimes. Yet, if we examine the aftermath of these events, it becomes clear that they did not create entirely new worlds, free from the problems of the old regimes. Instead, these so-called revolutions often resulted in a reconfiguration of power, rather than its dissolution. The structures of authority, violence, and inequality persisted, albeit in different forms and with different actors.
Camus, in his book The Rebel, distinguishes between two key concepts: rebellion and revolution. Rebellion, according to Camus, begins with an individual’s rejection of an oppressive condition. It is an act of defiance in response to perceived injustice. Rebellion, however, does not necessarily seek to create a new world. Rather, it is an act of protest, an assertion of dignity in the face of an existential crisis. Revolution, on the other hand, is an attempt to completely transform society and the structures of power that underpin it. Camus argues that revolutions, despite their high ideals, often end in new forms of oppression. The revolutionary, who begins by rejecting the old world in the name of liberty, equality, or justice, frequently becomes the new oppressor, perpetuating violence and control in the name of their vision of a better future.
The French Revolution provides a striking example of Camus’ argument. It began as a rebellion against the entrenched monarchy and the inequalities of the Ancien RĂ©gime. The revolutionaries, inspired by ideals of liberty, fraternity, and equality, sought to create a society where individuals were free from the tyranny of kings and aristocrats. However, the revolution quickly descended into violence and chaos. The Reign of Terror, led by Robespierre and the Committee of Public Safety, saw thousands of people executed in the name of revolutionary justice. The revolutionaries, who had overthrown the monarchy in the name of liberty, had become the new tyrants. In the end, the revolution did not produce a fundamentally new society. The Napoleonic Empire that followed was, in many ways, a continuation of the hierarchical structures that had existed under the monarchy, albeit with new rulers at the helm.
Similarly, the Russian Revolution of 1917 promised to overthrow the oppression of the Tsarist regime and create a society based on the principles of socialism—where power was supposed to reside in the hands of the working class. Yet, the revolution led to the rise of the Bolsheviks and the establishment of a totalitarian regime under Stalin, where millions of people were subjected to violence, purges, and repression. The revolution, which had been carried out in the name of the people, resulted in a new form of tyranny. The structures of power and control, which the revolution had sought to dismantle, were not eradicated but transformed into something equally oppressive.
Camus saw this dynamic as inherent to the nature of revolution. The revolutionary, in seeking to destroy the old order, often becomes trapped by the same logic of violence and power that they initially opposed. Revolution, in Camus’ view, is marked by its tendency to become authoritarian. The revolutionary justifies their use of violence and oppression by appealing to the ultimate goal of creating a better world. Yet, this justification leads to the perpetuation of the same conditions of domination and control that the revolution was meant to overcome.
In contrast to revolution, Camus favoured rebellion as a more authentic expression of human resistance to injustice. Rebellion, for Camus, was rooted in a refusal to accept the status quo, but without the desire to impose a new, all-encompassing system. The rebel says “no” to oppression, but does not claim to possess a definitive answer or solution. In this way, rebellion avoids the pitfalls of revolution, which seeks to replace one form of tyranny with another. Rebellion is an act of individual or collective dignity, a refusal to be complicit in the suffering of others, but it does not pretend to have the power to create a perfect world. It acknowledges the limits of human action and the complexity of human existence.
Camus’ philosophy provides a framework for understanding why humanity has never truly experienced a revolution, but only a series of rebellions. Even the most radical social upheavals have ultimately failed to create entirely new forms of existence. Instead, they have led to the re-establishment of power in different guises. The structures of domination, inequality, and violence have proven remarkably resilient, even in the face of dramatic political and social change. The very notion of revolution may be flawed, in that it presupposes the possibility of creating a utopia—a perfect society free from injustice and suffering. Yet, as Camus suggests, such a society is an illusion. Human existence is marked by imperfection, by ambiguity, and by conflict. The revolutionary’s dream of a perfect world is doomed to failure, not because of a lack of will or effort, but because of the fundamental nature of human life.
The American Revolution, often hailed as one of the most successful and enduring revolutions, also fails to meet the criteria of true revolutionary change. While it resulted in the creation of a new nation and the establishment of a democratic government, the underlying social and economic inequalities that existed before the revolution were largely preserved. Slavery persisted, Native American populations continued to be displaced and marginalised, and women remained excluded from political life. The revolution, in this sense, did not create a radically new society, but rather reconfigured existing structures to benefit a new class of elites. The language of liberty and equality that defined the revolution was not extended to all members of society, and the revolution’s promises of freedom were, for many, illusory.
This pattern repeats itself throughout history. The Haitian Revolution, which overthrew French colonial rule and ended slavery in Haiti, is often cited as a rare example of a truly revolutionary event. Yet, even this remarkable achievement did not result in a society free from violence, oppression, and inequality. The new Haitian state, while a beacon of hope for oppressed peoples around the world, was subject to internal conflict, economic hardship, and external pressure from imperial powers. The revolution’s ideals of freedom and autonomy were constantly undermined by the realities of a global system that continued to exploit and marginalise the newly independent nation.
What these examples suggest is that human history has been characterised by moments of rebellion—acts of resistance against oppression, injustice, and suffering—but not by revolutions that have fundamentally transformed the structures of power and control. Rebellions may lead to significant changes, but they do not overthrow the underlying conditions that perpetuate domination and inequality. This is not to say that rebellions are futile or insignificant. On the contrary, rebellion is a vital and necessary expression of human dignity. It is through rebellion that individuals assert their humanity in the face of dehumanising forces. However, rebellion does not—and perhaps cannot—create a perfect world. It can challenge injustice and demand change, but it does not offer a blueprint for a utopian society.
Camus’ emphasis on rebellion as a more authentic and ethical response to injustice than revolution is instructive. He warns against the dangers of absolutism, of the belief that one can create a perfect society through violent means. Instead, Camus advocates for a more modest, yet no less profound, form of resistance. Rebellion recognises the limits of human power and the complexity of the human condition. It does not seek to impose a singular vision of the good, but rather insists on the necessity of continually resisting oppression in all its forms. In this way, rebellion is a more sustainable and humane response to the problems of the world. It acknowledges that while we may never achieve a perfect society, we can and must continue to fight against the injustices that pervade our world.
Ultimately, the reason why humanity has never had a true revolution, but only a series of rebellions, lies in the nature of power itself. Power is not a thing that can be destroyed or eliminated; it is a dynamic force that shifts and changes form, but always persists. Revolutions, in their quest to eliminate one form of power, inevitably create another. The revolutionary dream of a world without domination is an illusion, because power is an inherent part of human relationships and society. Rebellions, on the other hand, do not seek to eliminate power altogether, but to resist its most oppressive manifestations. They are acts of defiance that affirm human dignity without falling into the trap of believing in a utopian future.
Camus’ philosophy reminds us that rebellion, rather than revolution, is the more realistic and ethical path. Rebellion is rooted in the recognition of our shared humanity and the rejection of dehumanising forces. It is a continual process of resistance, rather than a final solution. In this sense, humanity has never had a revolution, because the very idea of a complete and final transformation of society is flawed. Instead, we have had—and will continue to have—rebellions, acts of resistance that challenge the status quo without succumbing to the illusion of utopia. These rebellions, while imperfect and incomplete, are nevertheless vital expressions of human dignity and the refusal to accept a world of injustice and oppression.
If we were to have a global revolution, that completely resets humanity and it relationship with nature here are some reasons why:
Wealth inequality continues to widen, with the richest few controlling a disproportionate share of resources, leaving millions in poverty.
The environmental crisis is accelerating, driven by systems that prioritise profit over sustainability, threatening the planet’s future.
Democratic values are eroding as political systems increasingly favour corporate interests and marginalise public voices.
Global disparities persist, with developing nations often trapped in cycles of debt and exploitation through unfair trade practices.
Technological advances are creating immense wealth for a few while displacing millions of workers, deepening inequality.
Access to quality healthcare remains a privilege for many, highlighting the need for universal and equitable systems.
Racial and gender… inequalities are perpetuated by systemic biases that demand structural change to achieve true equity.
Labour exploitation is still rampant, with workers facing poor conditions and stagnant wages while corporations profit.
Weaponised nationalism and political divisions fuel conflict, preventing global cooperation and shared prosperity.
Current systems have failed to manage crises effectively, exposing the need for adaptive and inclusive governance.
How we create a system that addresses these are others is of course one that requires a participatory democracy in which we can openly contribute.
We can either be part of the generations that murdered planet Earth or we can be part of the generations that saved it.