The Continuing Struggle For Democracy In Latin America

Howard J. Wiarda

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2019
• Print ISBN: 9780367291037
• eBook ISBN: 9781000315646
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Politics & International Relations
• Subtopic: Politics
• Index: Politics & International Relations

This integrated collection of original essays evaluates and assesses whether democracy is viable in Latin America and, if so, how and in what form. The authors examine the significance, for both Latin America and the United States, of the dominance of authoritarian political systems in most Latin American countries; explore the implications of asse

Part 1
Introduction: A Perspective and Framework

1
Is Latin America Democratic and Does It Want To Be? The Crisis and Quest of Democracy in the Hemisphere

Howard J. Wiarda

The United States seems destined by Providence to plague America with misery in the name of liberty.

—Simón Bolívar

Everywhere in Latin America democracy seems to be dead, dying, or under siege. Twelve of the twenty republics (and the vast majority of the Latin American population) are presently (spring 1978) governed by military regimes,¹ and in five of the remaining countries the military is so close to the surface of power as to make the civil/military distinction nearly meaningless.² It has now become commonplace to point to the decline of civilian democracy throughout the continent, the rash of military coups since the 1960s, the rise of corporate-authoritarian regimes in such formerly democratic nations as Chile and Uruguay, the use of torture and repression in Argentina and Brazil, and widespread violations of human rights. Meanwhile, the number of genuinely democratic regimes has shrunk to a mere handful: Colombia, Costa Rica, Venezuela. And even these are often perceived to be elite-directed democracies (Colombia and Costa Rica) or else the product of such fortuitous circumstances (the vast quantities of oil in Venezuela) that their experiences are unlikely to be imitated elsewhere.

The problem is not just the rising tide of military-authoritarian-corporatist rule, however, but a growing body of literature and interpretation that sees authoritarianism, corporatism, and elitism as essential, almost "natural" aspects of the Latin American tradition.³ Democracy and its usual accompanying paraphernalia (checks and balances, elections, separation of powers, free press, and the like) are often viewed in the newer interpretations as foreign, and inappropriate, Anglo-American imports artificially imposed on a culture and society where they do not fit, ill suited to Latin America needs. In some of the overly deterministic expressions of this argument, democratic reformism is hence viewed as futile, since, if Latin America is inherently elitist and authoritarian, no amount of democratic reform-mongering is likely to suceeed. Democracy is in trouble in Latin America, therefore, not just because of spreading militarism but because a whole new school and generation of Latin American historians and social scientists have pronounced it as irrelevant to or outside the main currents of the Latin American tradition. Sometimes these interpretations, by rationalizing it, have also provided—most often inadvertently—justification and legitimacy for military-authoritarian rule.

This book wrestles with these themes. It traces the preoccupation in Latin American studies with the issue of democratic development, the biases that perspective has given our understanding of Latin America, and the possibilities for a Latin American democracy based on its own rather than North America's conception of the term. It analyzes the causes and manifestations of democracy's decline, as well as the possibility that the present wave of authoritarian-military regimes may, like others in the past, be a passing wave, ephemeral and not permanent.

The essays collected in this volume seek also to clarify the meaning of the recent corporatist and bureaucratic-state interpretations of Latin America and whether these approaches militate against the possibilities for Latin American democracy or may be compatible with it. We shall be examining the blends and fusions that may exist, for while corporatism and authoritarianism represent one, heretofore largely neglected, aspect of the Latin American tradition, it is not the only one. There are stong liberal, democratic, and social-democratic currents as well, which should not be ignored or swept aside in our new preoccupation with these other themes. The fact is that Latin America remains a mix; an amalgam of a corporatist-authoritarian tradition, a liberal-democratic one, and a newer socialist one. Much of politics centers on the conflict between these contrasting traditions and the various compromises and accommodations used to reconcile them. Among these are various democratic possibilities, though as we shall see in the Conclusion, the form democracy takes will likely be closer to a Latin American understanding of that word than the North American. The struggle for democracy in Latin America will, therefore, continue, and it behooves us to know both the older and now largely outdated meanings of that term and the newer conceptions, as well as the elements in the struggle itself.

Latin American Studies and the Quest for Democracy

Latin American studies in the United States have long been preoccupied with the presumed quest of the Latin American nations (whether real, imagined, or wishful) for democracy. From the early Puritan preoccupation with the "black legend" of Spanish—and Catholic!—atrocities, to the famous (or infamous) doctrine that bears the name of President Monroe, to Henry Clay's and John Quincy Adams's efforts to assist in separating Spain from her colonies, to the advocates of "manifest destiny" who, in the name of democracy and progress, deprived Mexico of half her national territory, to Teddy Roosevelt's and Woodrow Wilson's undoubtedly sincere efforts to bring, missionary-style, the "benefits" of democracy to "our little brown brothers," using a "big stick" or the marines if necessary, to John Kennedy's Alliance for Progress and President Carter's concern for human rights, the United States has consistently sought to export and impose its own democratic political institutions on an area that it has seen as mystifyingly authoritarian, chaotic, nondemocratic, Catholic-inquisitorial, "oligarchic," "feudal," or "underdeveloped."⁴ Latin American studies in the United States, unhappily, have historically not only served as the handmaiden of this design and effort but have frequently provided the rationalization and intellectual justification as well.⁵

It is clear that the attempt to bring U.S.-style democracy to Latin America is not just a recent or ephemeral preoccupation, but stems more basically from the historic drives, ambitions, and presuppositions of the North American nation. It reflects our Protestant and Lockean heritage and, conversely, what Richard M. Morse called our "insensitivity and vague hostility" toward the oftentimes nondemocratic and non-egalitarian assumptions of historic Catholic political culture.⁶ It reflects the great power ambitions of the United States and it clearly also serves our foreign-policy designs for hegemony in the Western Hemisphere.

Perhaps most important, it mirrors our sense of superiority, the notion that we are the most modern and developed of nations, the Churchillian idea that Anglo-American democracy is the "worst form of government except for all others," and the parallel presumption of the social sciences that the nations of the "North" (Europe and America) represent the leading edge of "advanced" sociopolitical change, whose experience can only be repeated and palely imitated—generally much later—by the nations of the "South." Marx's dictum that "The more developed nations only show to the less developed the mirror of their own future" is perhaps the most well-known expression of this latter sentiment, although the belief is widespread in the social sciences among Marxists and non-Marxists alike. Hegel provided an early, not atypical, and particularly devastating comment that relegated the entire New World to prehistory, or nonhistory: "What has taken place in the New World up to the present time is only an echo of the Old World—the expression of a foreign life—and as a Land of the Future, it has no interest for us here, for as regards History our concern must be with that which has been and that which is."⁷ Hegel (and many European and North American thinkers since that time) left Latin America, as Jean Franco shows, with only two possible alternatives: becoming an echo of the old world, placing hope in the continent's future realization and "developing" toward and perhaps one day catching up with the model and example of the advanced nations; or working for the assimilation of advanced "civilization" into Latin American life. But note that nowhere in either alternative does Latin America or its civilization have any value or worth of their own, let alone something they could teach to the rest of the world; Latin America is only derivative. In short, both as northerners (North Americans and North Europeans) and as social scientists we believe the myth of our superiority and Latin American inferiority. Our social science and our policy initiatives all reflect this fundamental ethnocentrism.⁸

Despite the historic European and North American efforts—and sometimes because of them—the quest for democracy in Latin America seems not to have proved very successful. For as the quote from Bolívar with which we began this chapter implies, in the name of liberty and democratic development we have as often plagued Latin America with misery as with good deeds. Democracy, as North Americans understand it, is in retreat, under attack from both the Right and the Left. A host of authoritarian-military regimes have substituted themselves for civilian representative rule. Elsewhere, Left-authoritarians have taken power and effectively subverted the middle way of social democracy. Human rights are frequently violated, coups occur with the same regularity as before, and the optimism for democracy that accompanied Kennedy's original Peace Corps and Alliance for Progress conceptions is now dead. Across the board, democracy appears to be faring badly; some would go so far as to pronounce Latin America's quest for the same—and by extension all of Latin American history—a "failure."⁹

It is difficult to think of history as a "success" or "failure," however. History is, rather, a neutral process, and unless one imposes a set of preconceived moral standards on it, it can hardly be branded a "success" or "failure." But perhaps that is part of the trouble with Latin American studies and helps explain why we so often think of Latin American history or development as "failed," "dysfunctional," or in terms of other euphemisms. Perhaps we have applied the wrong or inappropriate standards. Perhaps we have judged Latin America by U.S. standards and expectations rather than by its own. Using U.S. standards or criteria of development and democracy, one would almost necessarily conclude that Latin America's history has been a "failure," for it has not developed the separate and coequal parliament or courts, the system of local government, the traditions of party politics, loyal opposition, regular elections, and so forth that we deem to be necessary for democratic growth. But are there other criteria that might be used, criteria that reflect Latin America's own expectations instead of North America's, measures by which Latin American history may be judged a "success" and not a "failure"?

Our authors are of several minds on this issue, reflecting a debate that rages widely in the humanities and social sciences and with important policy implications, as to whether and to what degree there exist universal principles of "right" moral behavior (or developmental criteria) or whether these must be determined on a national, regional, or culture-area level. Some of the essays here are cast within "the struggle for democracy" universal or U.S.-style tradition. Others are skeptical whether "the struggle for democracy" theme is the proper and correct way to interpret Latin American history and politics and are frankly hostile to an approach they see as derived from the United States and with little relevance to the Latin American culture area. They would agree that it is impossible to label any history a "failure" and argue that our doing so reflects merely our own ethnocentric biases and not the realities of Latin American development.

Still others, while recognizing the biases and ethnocentrism that pervade a "struggle for democracy" focus that derives its chief assumptions from the U.S. experience, have sought nonetheless to analyze what is, after all, a still genuine and deep-rooted Latin American desire for democracy. But these writers have tried to discover an indigenous Latin American sense and meaning of democracy, different from and perhaps not altogether inferior to the North American one. It is a critical and important debate, with major implications for Latin America, for our understanding of the area, and for policy. Building upon this discussion, a number of our contributors seek to reformulate and reconceptualize the "struggle for democracy" issue as it relates to Latin America.

Latin America and Its “Struggle for Democracy”

To what extent is Latin America democratic? To what extent does it wish or aspire to be? To what extent can Latin America be interpreted through a liberal and democratic model of development? These questions have from the beginning preoccupied both Latin Americans and outside students of the area. They continue to concern us today.

It is probably to be expected that the United States should seek to interpret—and remake—Latin America in terms of its own democratic ethos and institutions. We like to think of ourselves as "the greatest democracy on earth," and the tendency is probably natural to interpret the political struggle of others in the light of our own behavior and expectations. Nor is the tendency to view the rest of the world through its own ethnocentric biases entirely confined to the United States.

So long as the United States remained a minor power, our fervor for democratic rule was largely confined to moral suasion and righteous injunctions. We sympathized with the struggles of Latin America for independence from Spain and the efforts of these early "new nations" to write democratic constitutions and to fashion representative governments. But beyond that we seldom went, and our trade and contacts with the area in the early nineteenth century remained limited. The era of "manifest destiny" was probably the first large-scale effort to bring the "benefits" of democracy to territories that once belonged to Spain, to blend our desires to expand democracy with our self-interest and power ambitions, and to use force if necessary to implement those goals. The Spanish-American War of 1898—in which, under the guise of freeing Cuba, Puerto Rico, and the Philippines from the yoke of some supposed Spanish cruelty and oppression, we annexed them as colonies or dependencies—represents another clear-cut effort on our part to export our brand of democracy while simultaneously acquiring a series of client states and territories to serve our ambitions for major-power status.

Although it would be easy to dismiss the speeches of our leaders regarding our concern to export democracy as mere rationalizations for baser motives, such a view would be too simple. There can be little doubt that William Jennings Bryan, Teddy Roosevelt, and Woodrow Wilson were sincere in their desires to bring the "blessings" of democratic rule to Panama, Haiti, Nicaragua, Cuba, Mexico, the Dominican Republic, and other lands that we annexed or on whose shores we landed the marines. To dismiss our moral fervor for democracy as a mere smokescreen for imperial designs and colonialism is to fail to understand the American tradition and its, admittedly self-righteous and ethnocentric, democratic ethos. Even Lyndon Johnson, when he sent twenty thousand troops into Santo Domingo and then even greater numbers into Vietnam in the two major interventions of the 1960s, was operating, by his own lights, from the same liberal-democratic premises.¹⁰ And who could doubt the sincerity of Jimmy Carter's concern for human rights, or the indignation of members of the Latin American Studies Association in pas...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Half Title
• Title
• Copyright
• Dedication
• Contents
• List of Figures and Tables
• Preface
• Part 1 Introduction: A Perspective and Framework
• Part 2 Long-Range Perspectives on the Quest for Democracy in Latin America
• Part 3 Group Politics and Democratic Pluralism in Latin America: Prospects and Weaknesses
• Part 4 Has Democracy Failed?
• Part 5 Is Democracy Still Viable?
• Part 6 Conclusion: The Continuing Struggle for Democracy in Latin America
• A Selected Bibliography
• About the Contributors
• Index