The two books here reviewed make remarkable contributions to our understanding of contemporary Latin American politics. Despite their distinct individual merits and methodological, analytical, and theoretical differences, they are worth reading together, for they both address the theme of political contention in Latin America, a topic of enduring importance.
Van Cott's work addresses classical and contemporary concerns of political science by studying the formation and performance of ethnic parties in South America (Bolivia, Colombia, Ecuador, Peru, Argentina, and Venezuela). Analyzing the means through which formerly excluded populations seek to achieve representation in a polity, Van Cott also contributes to the ongoing debate on the new ethnic dimension of Latin American politics.
Central to the author's argument is her definition of “ethnic party” as an electoral organization grounded in a subordinate ethnic identity that raises cultural or ethnic claims (Van Cott, p. 3). This definition allows Van Cott to include in her sample numerous cases that range from highly successful parties—such as Bolivia's Movimiento al Socialismo (MAS) and Ecuador's Pachakutik—to small and frustrated attempts—such as many short-lived parties with limited electoral performance in Bolivia between 1978 and 1995, or contemporary ethnic organizations in Peru and Argentina (the Colombian and Venezuelan cases fall between these two extremes). This large sample helps the author to develop her main thesis: Latin American ethnic parties spring from a rather complex mix of opportunities created by democratization—especially changes in the political system associated with the collapse of the Left and new electoral rules—and a long historical trajectory conducive to ideologically charged and well-organized social movements.
Van Cott makes her case through a reconstruction of the historical formation and recent changes of the institutional structures that mediate the relations among the dominant elites and between the elites and subordinate indigenous populations. In developing her thesis, Van Cott calls into question conventional expectations regarding the relationship between politics and demography. Although it would be reasonable to assume that the presence of at least one ethnic party that regularly elects officials is more likely in democratic multiethnic societies with large indigenous minorities and a weak sense of shared nationality than in societies with small indigenous minorities, Van Cott shows that this is not the case in Latin America. Whereas Colombia and Venezuela have tiny indigenous populations, they have successful ethnic parties; however, Peru, a country with a large indigenous population, has no ethnic party.
Van Cott maintains that the explanation of this apparent paradox is to be found in the trajectories of the social movements that gave birth to the most successful ethnic parties (in Colombia, Ecuador, Bolivia, and to some extent Venezuela). That is, the size and type of resources accumulated over more than a decade of organizational efforts, including key alliances with former activists of the Left, are crucial determinants. A second important factor favorable to the transformation of the ethnic movements into political parties is decentralization, which helps facilitate initial electoral gains and the political leaning of the movements by allowing them to gain access to and manage subnational governments (i.e., municipalities and provincial governments). A third determinant is the changes in electoral rules experienced by many of the Andean countries (it is worth noting that the elites who initiated those reforms did so to strengthen the traditional parties to better compete against new contenders, that is, the very social movements that give birth to the ethnic parties). Van Cott develops her argument by contrasting successful with unsuccessful ethnic parties and analyzing variation at the national and regional levels.
However, the book is uneven. The description and analysis of the Bolivian and Peruvian cases are stronger than the other three Andean cases, where her argument becomes less compelling. In the case of Ecuador's Pachakutik, the author states that the major indigenous organization, and the core organizational base of Pachakutik, CONAIE (Confederación de Nacionalidades Indígenas del Ecuador) scored points and achieved a greater development of its own anti-neoliberal program during the 1994 mobilizations against the new agrarian law (Van Cott, pp. 112–13). Though this claim is often found in the literature on Ecuador's indigenous movement, it hardly resists careful examination of both the law and of the negotiations between the government and CONAIE. Likewise, Van Cott's claim that the decline of class alignments and leftist parties in the eighties opened up space in the political spectrum for new ethnic parties seems to work quite well for Bolivia, but not so well for Ecuador—where class alignments were central to political struggles only for a brief period, roughly between the 1930s and the end of the 1970s—and Venezuela, where class struggle became more intense and vital for organizing political contestation in the nineties—during the collapse of the Punto Fijo regime and the raising of the new Chavista system, that is, precisely when the Left got stronger in Venezuela.
Even though Van Cott's argument with regard to class and ethnicity looks stronger for the Bolivian case, one should remember that Bolivia is a very special case even among the Andean countries. For Bolivia is not only the most indigenous country of the Andes, it is also the one in which the processes of state formation and homogenization of society—both processes that contribute to the emergence of class cleavages—are the weakest of all the Andean countries. In fact, the contrast that Van Cott offers with Argentina cast doubts on her argument. Argentina, thanks to the achievements of Peronism—and with the tensions that the decade 1945–55 legated to Argentine politics afterward—managed to transform itself in a nation-state that enjoys great infrastructural power, and a highly homogeneous, modern, society—not to mention the fact that in Argentina, neither the Left nor the Right have developed successful political parties.
Competitive elections, as well as other liberal guarantees—in particular constitutional liberties and civil society's checks on the extreme concentration of power in the executive—seem to play a larger part in the development of (relatively) peaceful forms of political contestation and, in the end, of democratic transformation of Latin American societies than Van Cott seems willing to concede. It is with respect to these issues that Brockett's study of political movements and violence in Guatemala and El Salvador speaks most directly.
In contrast with the Andean cases, El Salvador and Guatemala have endured for most of their respective histories brutally repressive authoritarian regimes. What has been the norm in the Andes—feeble states with a limited democracy—see Jeremy Adelman, “Unfinished States: Historical Perspectives on the Andes,” (in Paul W. Drake and Eric Hershberg, eds., State and Society in Conflict, 2006, pp. 41–73)—in Central America has been the exception. As Brockett shows in Chapters 7 and 8, it made a whole world of difference for contending political movements in Guatemala and El Salvador that episodes of democratic politics in those countries have been few and of brief duration—in some cases lasting no more than a few months. The difference results from the comparatively higher coercive power of the Guatemalan and Salvadorian states vis-à-vis their Andean peers. Under a conservative democratic regime, elites dispute the control of the state apparatus. However, under an authoritarian military regime, subservient to the elite's interests, elite disputes center on the most effective means to wipe out opposition.
Following Brockett's argument, we can say that under an authoritarian regime the accumulation of grievances on the shoulders of the subordinated groups is not enough for social movements to come to life; for that to occur a very specific set of changes must happen (Brockett, pp. 270–71). First, there should be a change in the structure of political opportunities (e.g., a new set of potential allies). Second, the levels of repression should be lower than in previous times. Third, committed activists should be willing to risk their lives to promote protests and organizational efforts. Fourth, the authoritarian regime should be inconsistent in its willingness to apply massive, even criminal, repression to contain its contenders. Finally, and if there are survivors left in the popular camp, positive memories of what can be achieved by contending the regime, and a change in U.S. foreign policy toward the regime, there might be hope for popular movements to reemerge. This combination runs against high odds; human emotions make the difference.
Despite all the impressive empirical data and the detailed reconstruction of protest cycles in both Guatemala and El Salvador, Political Movements and Violence in Central America is a book that never loses sight of the basic human commitment to equality and liberty that lies at the heart of contentious politics. In doing so, Brockett not only pays tribute to those activists who sacrificed everything for what they believed. He also underscores the efforts of the progressive branch of the Catholic Church in fostering organizations, providing allies, and infusing substantive values into the popular struggles of both rural and urban Guatemalans and Salvadorians who during the better part of the twentieth century struggled for emancipation.
The main contribution of the book to the field of social movement theory is its clarification of the so-called “repression paradox” (i.e., the fact that state violence seems to both crush and provoke contention by popular movements). By examining violent (revolutionary) and nonviolent political movements and the responses of the Guatemalan and Salvadorian states in their historical and regional contexts, Brockett shows that organizational processes, accumulated memories, and changes in the structures of opportunity mediate the relationship between cycles of protest and state repression. In addition, he shows that two other variables, usually neglected by social movement studies, are important in explaining the conditions leading to rising contestation or successful contention: 1) the sequence of the interactions between nonviolent movements, violent challengers, and state responses, and 2) international influences, especially U.S. support for a given regime, and the presence of revolutionary waves in neighboring countries.
The prevailing wisdom in Latin America nowadays is that revolutionary challengers to the established order are outdated. Since the Clinton administration, U.S. policy toward the region has consistently supported governments that fulfill the standard minimal procedures of democracy. Social movements, such as those analyzed by Van Cott, are more numerous now than in the past. Indeed, as she has demonstrated, given the right conditions, these movements, especially when ethnically based, have even been able to transform themselves into successful political parties. We should bear in mind, however, that ethnic politics have a greater chance of contributing positively to the development of democracy, in Latin American and in general, when democratic institutions have been in place for longer periods than is the case in Central America. We should also remember that ethnic politics—despite its persistent presence in Latin America—seems to present less of a challenge to undemocratic elites than does class politics.
