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Review of "The Paradox of Plenty: Oil Booms and Petro-States"

Terry Lynn Karl’s book The Paradox of Plenty: Oil Booms and Petro-States , a part of University of California Press’s series in the Studies in International Political Economy, is a comparative study of Petro-states with a primary focus on the manner in which oil impacted Venezuela’s state development and political culture. Karl’s statement of theoretical principles is to operates in-between structuralism and rational choice theory – a program which she calls structured contingency. Such a viewpoint may appear as methodological individualism, however her subsequent analysis shows the effects of contingency are generally more compelling on actors than they would like to admit and thus the dominant of this binary. In the case study of Venezuela that follows, this is most evident in the recurrent inability for the state to formulate a decisive economic policy not wholly dependent on the oil revenues and then stick with it despite opposition. Instead, coalitions for changes become bought off and incorporated, thus bloating the state even more while discouraging domestic ingenuity.

Such a preview is meant to hint at 16th century Spain, a similarly formed mineral-extraction economy that which Karl does not just allude to but provides a brief case study. The Spainish political elite of the time pursued policies of rampant rent-seeking rather than state consolidation, bureaucracy professionalization and failed to construct a legitimize taxing authority with a wide structural base. They choose instead to rely upon extractive wealth futures to pay for outstanding debts, leading to a minimization of commodity circulation in the mainland, the potential division of labor, innovation in production and a general stagnation in agriculture. Slaves in the colonies and peasants in Spain were constant elements of surplus extraction that in the variable international market hamstrung their capacity to deal with balances of trade.

The combination of these factors leads to the economy suffering from “Dutch disease”, a condition indicating that the countries increasing debts starting to take over revenues, rising rates of inflation, a shrinking export sector, and increasing domestic consumption. The state is unable to balance it’s external payments as the elite, grown accustomed to not paying is averse to beginning to do so and can threaten, as a class, the stability of the state. The lower classes, who also don’t have the capacity to take up the slack, can also do say, as is seen in Venezuela. As Karl shows in her later comparison to other new states like Venezuela, the results of this is devastating to the economy and leads almost to the negation of the wealth that had previously entered the country.

The 1922 Petroleum law in Venezuela was a crucial moment for the construction of the state. It effectively limited private property to places which did not have access to oil deposits, causing the state to be the sole negotiator with the oil companies. Because of this the state itself meshed and in a very real way approximated itself to the structure of the then largest international capitalist corporations. This was compounded and expanded by the 1943 Hydro-carbons Law. With the passage of this bill all noting of a minimalist, diversified state was put aside and instead an intensification of policy that “sowed the petroleum” back into the country was pursued.

This focus on oil incomes had the effect of disincentivizing agrarian production. From 1928 to 1944 agricultural exports declined from by two-thirds.Oil companies and wealthy landowners bought or obtained rights to vast land holding, which disrupted subsistence and small capital agricultural production and led to mass migration to the cities. This imposition of the rentier logic robbed the state of “the opportunity to benefit from the skill and talents that arise from the penetration of public authority to the far corners of a territory in search of revenue” and made it wholly dependent on the international oil market (91).

While Venezuela has had relative political peace in comparison to it’s Latin American neighbors, the price from which this has come is high. Oil incentives the political classes to engage in a form of politics which is excessively focused on party factionalism and personalism rather than the manifestation of good policies, the purchasing of opponents groups allegiances with promises of a share in the spoils, and semi-corporatist networks directing the course of policy rather than limited democratic representation. As the contradictions between this policy and that propounded by the left turned into civil war, the moderates continued this policy. Venezuelan politics took the shape of pactismo and, once the contradictions inherent in it became more extreme, presidentialism. The attempts by the state to “change course” was limited to what it knew, nationalizations of other industries and raising the percentage of revenues from oil. Concomitant with these grand schemes was the proliferation of new government agencies and rules that hampered the state’s performance and with each boom made it likely that in a bust period extreme social unrest would develop as the borrowing during this period could only go on so long, disproportionately affected the lower class and, due to the general lack of professionalism, would also mean that corruption scandals came to light and divested the state of a hegemonic notion that it was legitimate. This is indeed what happened following the partial imposition of the FMI’s adjustment plan and was in large part the cause for the disintegration of the “democratic” institutions and ascendancy of anti-party candidate Hugo Chavez Frias.

The closing, comparative section of the book illustrates variations on the theme of the petro-state as it formed in Algeria, Indonesia and Norway. Karl’s assessment that new states unduly focus on the oil industry to compose the state’s budget is shown as true across the board. New, ex-colonial state lacking diverse administrators with some area of specialized knowledge and income to pay them look to their natural wealth as a the source of their trouble. The above framework is repeated with variations based upon the degree that states bureaucracy’s were older (Norwary) and to a lesser extent those which had some level of continuous technocratic control of the market (Indonesia) rather than political control (Algeria, Nigeria, etc.).

Review of "Take Back the Land: Land, Gentrification and the Umoja Village Shantytown"

Take Back the Land: Land, Gentrification and the Umoja Village Shantytown is a firsthand account by the primary organizer of the short-lived Umoja Village, Max Rameau. The opening chapters recount the general context of the Miami housing market for African Americans: the city was founded on and organized by racial principles, reinforced by economic inferiority and attempts at changing anything other than the symbolic order was met with police repression or co-optation of movement activists. The results of these policies encouraged local black entrepreneurs to leave or be subsumed by better capitalized competitors in other racial groupings and local black activists entering politics to act as the principals of local capitalist interests rather than that of the community which was locked into place as a result of their low wage, menial jobs with little to no opportunity at upward mobility. Such a socio-economic composition resulted in a slow downward spiral for Miami blacks as their political and purchasing power declined.

On a lower level of abstraction, the Hope VI program authored by the Miami-Dade Housing Agency (MDHA) offers a prime example of this. Funded by the federal government to the tune of 106 million dollars, the program was to address the paucity of affordable housing by providing increased quality and number of public and mixed-enterprise housing within the African American community of Miami. The actual results, however, were such that whites and Hispanics were steered to newer units closer to tourist areas or given rent vouchers while black families were placed in older housing and in unincorporated sections of Miami. As a result of these MDHA policies the city had to pay out in a legal settlement, however the pressure to adjust the housing was limited as people then had housing. The campaign for the Umoja village occurs in the aftermath of this settlement when the aforementioned housing projects that consisted of 850 housing units occupied by blacks were scheduled for demolition and replacement by a 462-unit project. If displacing this large number of occupants in order to halve the available housing wasn’t bad enough, more problems were to follow. Those ejected from their homes were offered first occupancy of the units to be built, which was made a meaningless offer as following the demolition they were never built due to the Miami-Dade Board of County Commissioners (MDBCC) restriction of MDHA funding due to “new priorities”.

The Miami Herald would later publish an expose on this situation in its House of Lies series, however the subsequent political backlash was marginal as the gentrification in question affected primarily an impoverished, politically disenfranchised community. To combat this specific problem and the general embrace by the MDHA of the gentrification process, Rameau and the activists he recruits begin to operationalize a plan to help the homeless occupy public land. Following the “Pottinger precendent”, any “life-sustaining activities” taken by homeless people was legal and police could not force them to halt or remove them from said location. Take Back the Land’s political action core was formed, outreach to local churches and NGO’s involved in similar “justice” campaigns made and after a location was chosen Rameau reached out to a group he refers to as “The Lake Worth Kids” to help him do the actual building of the shantytown.

Max had met this group of activists, actually organized around the name Lake Worth Global Justice, during the Anti-FTAA protests in Miami 2003. Amidst the flying canisters of tear gas, buzzing of rubber bullets and batons hitting the bones of protestors that has since come to be called the “Miami Model” approach to policing at international trade conventions, they’d exchanged contact information and, upon hearing his plans, agreed to assist. The account that follows relates to co-ordination of food, housing, news coverage, dissentions between the activists and the occupants over what came to be “self-rule” and other issues related to maintaining a shanty-town. Four major actionable areas are developed in consultation with the people living in the village: “deepening roots on the land; expand(ing) our political reach beyond the land; provide resident services; and promote resident development” (106).

Max moves back and forth from an on the ground description of what’s going on to reflections on the implications of it for questions of leadership, political agency and politics in general. While there are moments of drag, inevitable in any sort of close account of actions, the depiction of the various political actors and their attempts to contain, co-opt, or destroy the purpose of the village does make for generally compelling reading. While supportive of the need to bring attention to collusion between Miami developers with the City government and the corruption that ensues with such a relationship, I take issue with Rameau’s choice of land and housing.

Rameau states that his choice to Occupy the Land is practical and symbolic. The first rationale is that it provides housing for people that have been placed within a precarious economic situation exacerbated by aforementioned capitalist-government collusion and the second rationale is that it draws attention to the dehumanizing contradictions of capitalism undergirded by such a corporatist model of governance. That said, while land/housing is important, it is a single manifestation of Capital and once it is “taken,” the daily problems connected with their maintaining it quickly subsumes the greater struggle for the generalized improvement of conditions for the marginal black community. At moments Rameau seems to recognize this fact in his expressions of exasperation on the large amount of unexpected time and energy that must be directed towards maintaining the political core and the homeless groups cohesiveness rather than furthering their agenda. It’s also visible in his positive comments about, General Rashid, a member of the National Coalition of Blacks for Reparations in American, (N’COBRA) who also binds the immanent need to help people marginalized and by gentrification politics but also extends it to reparations for the category of “Black people”.

Without digressing into a topic that requires more attention than what I am willing to give it here, ie. the impractical aspects of the federal government disbursing eight trillion dollars, or roughly 200,000 dollars for each black person currently alive in the United States; the variegated origin of “black people”, especially in South Florida, as well as the problematic construction of “white people” as an essentialist historical category considering the large scale of immigration that occurred following the emancipation of slaves, etc. I am sympathetic to the need for redistributionist/restorative measures to assist in the amelioration of the historical, institutional disenfranchisement of African Americans. However lacking a broader coalitional base and focusing solely on the “undeserving poor” without including the working poor, the large number of low-wage service sector blacks that have housing, greatly limits their options for political action. Thus while the symbolic aspect is indeed significant, the practical side is weak due to the small constituency involved in the political actions. Rather than a housing movement, it is instead a spectacle of housing.

To bolster my point, it’s worth citing a counterfactual to the confrontational, “adversarial” politics that Max Rameau advocated that would subsequently take form as the Occupy Wall Street movement to show how such a “movement” would exist. The group Lake Worth Global Justice (LWGJ), cited by Rameau as the core which helped him build the housing structures and co-created the culture of self-rule, has morphed from predominantly protest actions to gaining representation within their local government and expanding civic associations. Rather than simply creating a precarious spectacle, members of this group have been able to petition the Federal Government to assist low-income families without resorting to illegal squatting. Cara Jennings, mentioned in passing in Rameau’s account, was elected to Lake Worth City Commissioner in 2006, and was one of the sponsors for the formation of a Community Redevelopment Agency that subsequently applies for and obtained millions of dollars in federal funds [1]. With control over this money the members of LWGJ are able to monitor and direct spending to conserve and beautify traditional low-income housing areas and fund projects that benefit the whole community rather than just a cabal of developers. Additionally they have created programs of educational and legal outreach to marginalized Hispanic communities around the downtown core and further managed, through constant community involvement, to keep developers interests within the bounds of the community’s wishes through political agitation and referendum. The way Jennings and other in LWGJ have been able to do this is by following the rulebook of Civil Rights activists, ie. by making up for domestic deficiencies in funding and assistance due to economic marginalization by relying upon national entities, such as the Sierra Club, AFL-CIO, etc. for support. Her message, once able to be heard by voters with the assistance of these groups, thus was able to increase the pace of progressive change within the area. Issues of race and the different scale between Lake Worth and Miami are certainly factors of great importance, but so to is the non-essentially antagonistic relationship to the local and state government embodied by this approach.

These criticisms made, the book is still an insightful account of the short-lived movement whose operational presumptions have since been adopted by other political groups concerned with similar issues. Not only does it provide insight into the material realities of the abstracts of gentrification, corruption, co-optation, and others but it is also written in a clear, vernacular style.

[1] A particularly interesting aspect of the race was that Jenning’s “business-oriented” opponent printed and circulated through the mail flyers calling her a “radical anarchist” and his other opponent, former FAU professor, Andrew Procyk a Marxist.

Review of "The Revolution in Venezuela: Social and Political Change under Chávez"

The Revolution in Venezuela: Social and Political Change under Chávez is part of the David Rockefeller Center’s series on Latin American studies. Published by Harvard and and edited by Thomas Ponniah and Jonathan Eastwood, the book brings together eight academic articles about differen aspects of social, political and economic and change since the election of Chávez. While the articles are not in direct conversation with each other, the two major themes are analysis of “State & Society Relations” as well as an exposition of what “The Bolivarian Project” is in it’s aspirations and implementation.

Fernando Coronil’s article recounts the manner in which the 2002 coup attempt transpired, the coup within the coup, and how it is that the interpretation of the events of April 11-14th are a continuing source of dispute between those who support and those who oppose Chávez. Those familiar with Chavez: The Revolution Will Not Be Televised: A Case Study of Politics and the Media will find the content very familiar as both analyze the misrepresentation of the coup in the Venezuelan media and provide timelines of the actual events that ends in a massive manifestacion that compels the military elements of the coup to return him to power. The article does, however, contain some more information that the film does not. For instance, one of the more humorous moments in the retelling of the events of the 2002 coup attempt is the use of rhetoric by the opposition. One of the slogans for their march protesting the firing of an oil worker was “Ni un paso atrás” (Not one step back). By attempting to establish a kinship between their protest against Chávez, who was democratically elected, and Chilean democratic protestors against Pinochet, who killed the democratically elected president Salvador Allende and ruled as dictator, they show their inability to make valid historical analogies. Coronil additionally highlights the different responses to those killed during the march to restore Chavez to power and those that died during the Caracazo of 1989. During the latter conflict 399 were killed and the media minimized these numbers while in 2002 only 19 died, who were not of the opposition but Chavistas, and this was seen as cause for overthrowing the democratically elected government. After Pedro Carmona is illegally given power in a ceremony filled with white business owners and priests (Watch here), Carmona declares the reversing of many policies and the dismissal of the National Assembly. He then initiates a second coup happens, “a coup within the coup” causing the liberal and religious groups which had supported Carmona to become excluded from positions of power in the new government. His support quickly vanishes, especially as by this time Chavez has been able to get out the message that he has not signed any paperwork giving up the presidency and his supporters have started to surround Miraflores. Coronil closes the article by reflecting on how it is that these events, highly contested in their interpretations, have helped to increase the political polarization about topics related to Venezuelan politics.

Aptly following this is Javier Corrales rational choice model analysis of the advantage a left-center government like Chavez has in increasing political discourse polarization which also includes a historical framework with which to understand it. Since the traditional channels of political power disintegrated in the period leading to Chávez’s election in 1998, the divide within the opposition has lead to their adopting a two-fold approach to how the movement against him should continue. One faction has pushed for a strictly legal policy that seeks to wrest power through elections while another has sought to cause disruption of the normal economic and social relations to provoke repressions that delegitimize the government and pave the way for a new coup. Such an example of this is found in the 2002 U.S.- backed coup attempt and the state oil-company strike (PDVSA). Worth noting is that not only did these policies fail, but helped to consolidate the positive direction of those ambivalent towards Chávez as they recognized to not do so would be to risk falling under the authority of another military dictatorship. Corrales shows how the increasing sympathy for the government message in the face of such trenchant opposition gave fertile conditions for Chavez to turn left and reenergize his base by co-opting ambivalent sectors. Corrales shows how this policy combined worked in the RCTV case, the 2007 referendum and the 2008 election and shows how the electoral strategies by Chavez and oppositions can be explained within this polarization matrix.

Gregory Wilpert’s article Venezuela’s Experiment in Participatory Democracy describes the varied composition of the new Bolivarian republic. In a sentence, Bolivarianism seeks to supplement representative democratic institutions with participatory democratic ones. The manner in which this has been done has been to encourage the growth of parallel, democratic decision making institutions at various levels of government. In this article Wilpert describes these participatory democracy organs, their relationships to each other and their relationship the country’s representative democracy institutions. These organs, it is shown, helps to root out corruption, audit the activities of government bodies and generally works to better the country’s infrastructure and encourage a more democratic society.

Social Comptrol (Contraloria Social), Citizen Assemblies, Communal Councils (CC – Consejos Comunales), and Local Public Plannning Councils (CLPP – Consejos Locales de Planificacion Publica) make up most of the parallel institutions that helps manage the states dispersion of resources as well as helps create an vibrant democratic culture that is broader and more robust than that found within representative democracy. These groupings break down based upon location of function and have secondary structures above them that facilitate their functioning with that of the government. The reason for this instead of an enlightened paternalism on the part of the Chavez administration is fun in the “Elucidation of Reasons” that prefaces the fifth constitution. Here it states that “participation is no limited to electoral processes, since the need for intervention of the people is recognized in the process of formation, formulation and execution of public policy; which would result in the overcoming of the governability deficits that have affected our political system due to the lack of harmony between state and society” (102).

The LPCC’s and missions that have been created outside of official government oversight to bring democratic decision making principles to the manner in which funds taken from oil revenues are distributed has not been perfect. As can be expected from any sort of project, private or public, achieving a maximum of efficiency has been difficult and there are institutional political actors who would act to bring about their failure so as to gain personally from it. Despite this, the missions are viewed overwhelmingly positive by Venezuelans, so much so that their continuation has been promised even by members of the Chávez’ opposition.When looking at some of the figures, taken not just from the Bolivarian government but those such as the World Health Organization, it becomes understandable why this is so. As a result of Medical, Water and other missions, there have been a large decrease in the number of children that have died from eminently treatable conditions such as pneumonia, diarrhea,

Wilpert illustrates some of the structural resistance to these organs proper functioning and how some political events, such as the publishing of the Tascon list, can counter their stated intentions. His assessment of these organs, however flawed, matches that overwhelmingly positive view also held by a majority of native Venezuelans. These programs have reversed feeling of cynicism and political apathy and have helped to create a country that, according to polling, has the greatest faith in democracy as a political program in South America. These policies, he shows, counters the military management culture of Chavez by de-emphasizing personalism, presidentialism and the paternalism of state bureaucracy and are also, Wilpert also notes that it is the growth of these participatory democratic forms outside of the government that have caused NGO’s such as Freedom House to claim that the country is authoritarian – even though Chavez has no role in the promotion of proposals to be carried out by the state. Their doing such is considered to be a result of their bias towards the North American model that posits representative democracy as the only viable form of government for a civilized country and their unwillingness to engage with the historical conditions of the country.

The subsequent article, Venezuela’s Presidential Elections of 2006: Toward 21st Century Socialism? illustrates the many positive markers of social health that have risen with the Chavez administration. Mission Mercal and Mission Rodriguez have decreased poverty, increased school attendance and decreased drop-out rates. Barrio Adentro has allowed for the exponential increase in access to health care and has spread it’s focus onto preventative measures that give the population a better comprehension of how to stay healthy. Mission Robinson I and II have sought to end adult illiteracy and offer those who are interested to finish primary studies. Water Community Boards (Mesas Tecnicas de Agua) have increased the percentage of the population with access to running water from 60% to 90%. Margarita Lopez-Maya and Luis E. Lander don’t simply trot out all the numbers that show the positive trends on the Human Development Index, but also show how within the electoral system itself there has been an increase in democratization. The constitution expanded the powers from the traditional three, Executive, Legislative and Judicial to include Citizen and Electoral. The latter of which American familiar with the working of the electoral college would find interesting due to it’s very progressive nature. The article than analyzes the message composition of the 2006 election and shows how Chavez wins almost unanimously in poor districts and loses in wealthy ones due to his support of increased autonomy to these sectors. Chavez’s speech around this election, which was the first time that he used the phrase 21st century Socialism, is then analyzed. He is shown as showing an admixture of both aggression and deep love for his opponents and describes his vision of 21st Century socialism as “native, indigenous, Christian and Bolivarian.” After the 2006 victory, Chavez then began the process of consolidating his supporters into the PSUV (Partido Socialista Unido de Venezuela), one of the “five engines” to move society towards socialism.

Subsequent articles, while eminently worth reading, go into comparative, detailed analysis of his spending policies, the initial capital flight followed by re-investment when arbitrary nationalization was no longer felt to be a threat, the growth of domestic private capital, the projects for increased regional integration, a Bank of the South that counters influence of the IADF and World Bank, Chavez’s disdain for Obama’s lukewarm support of “democracy” in Honduras following the military coup that toppled Manuel elaya, extensive details of the many achievements created by Barrio Adentro, and how despite the at times bombastic rhetoric that government has been sensibly pursuing an international relations policy designed to frustrate the operation of a unipolar global power structure. The book

Review of "The Enduring Legacy: Oil, Culture and Society in Venezuela"

Miguel Tinker Salas’ The Enduring Legacy: Oil, Culture, and Society in Venezuela begins with a Venezuela largely divided by natural terrain and facing moments of national unity only when regional caudillos were able to mobilize enough force to get a grip on the entire nation. Poor inter-regional communication and lengthy periods of travel amongst places make such occurrences difficult and their extension of power into the rural areas tenuous or nonexistent until modern technology was able to alleviate these problems. Juan Vicente Gómez Chacón, the military dictator between 1908-1935 leveraged these developments and the alliances that he’d made from his long tenure in the military to grab rule from his dictatorial predecessor Cipriano Castro and become Venezuela’s first modern president. Modern not necessarily because his junta was progressive in any sense but because it was able not just to use traditional income from patronage into projects but petrol dollars. Subsequent interpretations of Gómez have usually conceived of his policies as wily for his play of nations against each other for greater financial concessions for sub-soil access but still in essence a servant for extra-national interests,

With the first big discovery of oil in 1922 at La Rosa, a process of massive population migration, capital investment, infrastructure construction and transformation of Venezuelan politics begins. No longer is Venezuela a country just some minor supplier of agricultural products such as coffee because it won’t spoil on the long winding “roads” which required mules to move goods over the mountains but is placed within an international political and economic nexus. Oil is the precursor for modern industry. Oil is development. And oil soon starts dislocating large amounts of traditional communities and turning the government into a mediating force between outside corporations desperate for their crude oil and the people within these communities. The rhetoric within the country soon conceives of the government as a defender of it’s two-fold national body. There is the socio-political body and there is the large body of oil reserves that predicates the functioning of the government. The government’s dependence on oil revenues for it’s functioning creates a symbiotic relationship between them, the foreign extractive companies and the governments associated with them (predominantly American, British and Dutch).

In the process of developing the oil reserves for export, oil companies such as Shell and Caribe had to construct communities in the midst of the jungle. Their hiring practices consistently prefer foreign workers, mostly North Americans, for the advanced technical work, and use the native Venezuelans for manual labor. The creation of these petrol neighborhoods and the forms of living space they engendered had profound effects on the subsequent Venezuealan culture and values. The first wave of roughnecks that came in were mostly single men who cared about the natives only inasmuch as they could buy alcohol, prepared foods or clothes from them, hire them to clean their homes (if they even had them and weren’t sleeping in a hammock in a shack) and rent females by the hour for sexual liaisons. Conflict occasionally led to social unrest, be it from social causes such as drunk and rowdy drillers to environmental disaster, so the companies later sought to lessen this by the construction of fenced and guarded communities that would be considered desirable to live in by American standards and thus acceptable for families to be brought there by American workers. Summarizing his analysis of these and other trends, Salas states that “Beyond monopolizing the economy, oil shaped social values and class aspirations, cemented political alliances, and redefined concepts of citizenship for important segments of the population” (238). As the foods and the repasts of America came to become an indicator of cultural advancement, one of the reasons for explaining why, unlike the rest of Latin America, the national past-time is baseball and not futbol.

For my own interests, the latter part of the book contains the most compelling historiography and transition from an institutions and cultural studies approach to an analysis of political framing and civil society formation that illustrates the growth and functioning of a government “cursed” by such resources. Clientism, cronyism and nepotism abound in the political structure while in the quasi-private oil sector a supposed meritocracy reigns, a situation which Terry Lynn Karl poetically terms as the paradox of plenty. Having stated the obvious, how the American and British oil companies were in a symbiotic relationship with the Venezuelan state due to the latter’s reliance on oil revenues to function, Salas then illustrates how the capital to initiate a wide array of Venezuealan cultural outlets and political organization originated from the oil companies, how they sponsored surveillance networks to monitor leftist activities and promoted individualistic, corporatist values in their publications. Caribe sponsored schools, university posts, the construction of churches, radio and television broadcasts and infrastructure, magazines, newspapers, etc. One purpose of such publications was the creation of a unified cultural conception of what it meant to be “Venezuelan”. Bringing together the experiences within the andinos, the llanos, and the oriente under one coherent conceptual framework had much the same effects as the conceptions of the polis as “cafe con leche”. The divergent experiences were minimized and the notion of a single “people” came to the forefront.

The notion of the nation created, however, was not just inclusive of these but also exclusive. It was inclusive in the sense that the oil companies were promoted as the key component as to how it was that the nation was becoming “modernized”. Though the companies themselves were foreign, they defined themselves and hired multiple public relations firms to cast them as benevolent for their bringing up “the people” out of poverty and subsistence agricultural production. That vast numbers still lived in grinding poverty was not even mentioned. Additionally, the values propounded on the radio and television programs and in the papers excluded certain qualities as being proper to the economic order and thus indicative of atavism still present within the population. The qualities denigrated were not just those anathemic to regularized business practices, such as tardiness, conflict, non-“Christian” behavior as well as race. While the latter illustrates the desire for a docile, responsible labor force the latter speaks to the fat that Afro-Venezuealans and Trinidadians, while within the social-economic nexus of oil extraction, were largely confined to manual and house labor if able to gain steady employment at all. Their marginalization meant that during period of economic downturns they were the most at risk. While Salas does not focus much attention on the Chavez phenomenon in the book, he does define the motivation and forces supporting him as largely coming from those marginalized both symbolically, economically and politically and representing a new conception of a modern Venezuela that is not solely dependent upon it’s natural resources to function as an economy – because such functioning in fact greatly harm to those not fortunate enough to join that sector.

Review of "The Conspiracy"

Paul Nizan’s The Conspiracy could be seen as a retelling of Dostoyevsky’s Demons in a situation that is no longer conducive to revolution by people whose allegiances are best served with the hegemonic order despite their views that it will soon totter over. In contradistinction to the verbose style showcasing the intricacies of the characters through long exchanges and monologues found in the latter book, The Conspiracy packs a number of dense statements into a tightly compact narrative. What it at times misses it nuance, breadth and complexity, it makes up for in it’s economy of language and referentiality.

Rosenthal, the leader of the conspiracy, his comrades and even those that disagree with him speak in the type of clipped language that those familiar with the various discourses use. In this it is much more realistic than Dostoyevsky. For instance, in the scene where Carre and Regnier are arguing about the difference between the French socialists and communists he says: “You see every participation as a limitation. You immediately want to revoke your decision, in order to show yourself you’re free to reject what you just embraced. And proud to boot, and Goethean: “I am the Spirit that negates all…”” While the first point is relatively clear, the latter part is a shorthand. It is this type of intellectual shorthand, I would argue, that is in large part the reason why their plan and their attempt to realize it barely takes off.

Rosenthal’s academics lean towards France’s revolutionary tradition and the writings of Spinoza, Hegel and Marx. All three personages are repeatedly quoted as authorities of the present situation. The reader, however soon discovers such sentiments are likely to assuage Rosenthal’s own feelings of guilt for the privilege he was born into and to showcase his concern with the “world”. He does not know it, so much as a manner of interpreting the world and a set of values that emerged from another age. In this he is not alone. As the action unfolds, we learn that the student revolutionaries are motivated not but any great humanitarian desire to negate the unnecessary deprivations that could be banished in a post-scarcity world but are instead driven by their insecurities about the future, illusions of grandness, their desire to rebel against their parents or gain social recognition for their “specialness”, their adulation to others they hold to be intellectually superior and their adherence to classical Roman notions of republican virtue that while inspiring are outdates in an age of mass society. The only person which throws his fate in with the Socialist Party is Pluvinage, who we later learn is an informant for the police.

The plot itself deals with this in the mundane manner that one would expect student revolutionaries separated from mass politics would work. They conceive of an attendant that will spark the public into action and just as poorly as they thought it through they then execute it. When Simon, one of the plotters is discovered, the intent is quickly brushed aside due to his class and the explanation that he wanted certain information to write on a novel – a hobby considered understandable based on his social standing to the members of the military that are considering how to judge what next will happen to him based upon his infraction. The pleasant distractions of women, the desire for others to see one as great and family dynamics play a significant factor in keeping the conspiracy largely stillborn. In fact the task that Rosenthal devotes most of his time to besides that of a “revolutionary” journal with a minuscule circulation is in attempting to seduce the wife of his older brother so that she will leave him.

I concur with the sentiments found in Jean-Paul Sartre’s afterword on finding some of the most compelling of Nizan’s writing within this book to be about recognizing the transition into adulthood by these students to be a difficult time and one filled with adjustments without clear end goals. Their desire for something specific, something they can see is understandable especially given the crisis-ridden world in which they are beginning to take a part. However there are other parts that I find particularly worthwhile, though I find at times the plot drags. The scene between Pluvinage and the policeman Massart, for instance, while lacking the sustained tension, humor and gravity as that between Porfiry and Raskolnikov in Dostoyevsky’s Crime and Punishment, is also quite compelling. One of the more intelligent lines that Massart utters in this vein is: “Pascal was the first author who face the outline of a police conception of the world… Little accidents and little men manufacture great events. The masses and the professors never see the true connections, because there’s no visible relation between cause and effect and all tracks are muddied. Everybody’s unaware of chance working away behind the scenes, and of the secret of little men…” and demonstrates Nizan’s capacity to incarnate a number of characters based upon certain philosophical presuppositions.

Review of "The Underdogs"

Mariano Azuelo’s novel The Underdogs was first published in 1915 and is an account of the revolutionary war in Mexico against the Federal government of Porfirio Díaz. The novel predominantly follows the military actions of bandit-turned-general Demetrio Macías, against the Federal government and the manner in which his armed forces are housed, fed, paid, disciplined and interaccaudt with themselves and others segments of Mexican society. In the account of Demetrio’s rise it is possible to see the historical context of caudillismo and the structural limitations for enacting progressive development once the economic and political contradictions of dependent development have been contested. To the first point of caudillismo, we can trace it in the brief career of Demetrio, who leads a small rebellion for personal gain and then decides to join the “formal” army simply in order to potentially gain more. The second issue is shown in the environmental, institutional and social destruction as a result of the civil war itself.

We first encounter Demetrio and his band in armed confrontation with the federal troops. Demetrio is shown to be brave, strong and charismatic to those under his command. He frames his participation in the rebellion in a moralistic personal narrative devoid of notions of class or national solidarity. This desire for revancha similarly motivates the other members of his band that too could be taken as archetypes for the historical context within which they find themselves. Their attacks are not coordinated with any of the other forces fighting against Díaz in the country until they are joined by Luis Cervantes.

Luis is an outsider, both from his previous advocacy of conservative positions, as is evident from his writing in the El Pais and El Regional newspapers, and his class background, his parents could afford to pay tuition for him to be a medical student. Additionally he is described as having a handsome appearance, likely preserved from not engaging in taxing manual, agricultural labor and having a certain reservedness. For these reasons he is given the name Curro, or handsome, which could be interpreted as referring both to his looks and his refined habits.

However these do not alone compose his variations from Demetrio’s group. He states his decision to join forces with the revolutionary band is for idealistic reasons rather than naked material interest. Azuelo shows how ambiguous such a commitment is, however, in providing a backstory that shows Luis previously in the company of the government troops and deciding to desert after being humiliated by his commander, learning how many of the troops were untrained farmers pressed into service and how profitable the side of the rebellion could be. This last consideration is unknown to the group and thus he is viewed according to all in the band as being “made of different stuff”, which in this context means being looked up with suspicion. Despite this, or perhaps because of it, he soon becomes a mouthpiece for the values proclaimed by revolutionary leaders such as Villa and Zapata. While not specifically citing the Plan of Ayala as a motivating force for his action, he states “The revolution is for the benefit of the poor, the ignorant, those who have been slaves all their lives, the miserable ones…” (15).

Though Curro is new to the group and an outsider, his capacity for ratiocination is also recognized. When determining the next plan of action, Curro is able to convince Demetrio not just to be an insurgent, but to make an effort to join the revolutionary army of Natera so as to gain position within the new political organization. On this point he states to Demetrio:

“You are generous, and say: “My only ambition is to return to my land.” But is it fair to deprive your wife and children of the fortune that the Divine Providence is now placing in your hands? Is it fair to forsake the motherland at the solemn moment when she will need the abnegation of her humble children to save her, to keep her from falling into the hands of the eternal oppressors and torturers, the caciques?” (25-26)

Leaving aside the ambiguity of Curro’s commitment to egalitarian reform, in the crucible of Mexican class struggle that Curro has entered into his propounded values are soon confronted by the material realities and he soon transitions to an opportunistic pragmatism. The reasons for this are best voiced by an acquaintance, Sr. Solis, he meets in the camp of Natera. Before he is shot in battle, Solis states that “you either become a bandit like them or you leave the stage and hide behind the walls of a fierce and impenetrable egotism” (38). Stripping the abstract to its materiality, we see that Solis refers to a series of behaviors that Luis also witnesses that could be summed as lack of revolutionary discipline.

The men which are leading the military charge are not just querulous about their socio-economic position but also amongst themselves, their aggression leads to in-fighting that, when exacerbated by alcohol, lead to murder. They display their anti-intellectualism by cooking corn with books, destroying art and breaking objects such as crystal chandeliers simply because they are manifestations of the surplus capital extracted from peasant labor. The chain of command becomes difficult to maintain. There is tension between the insurgents and those that have abandoned their roles in the Federal Army that is compounded by the anti-hierarchical sentiments unleashed by the revolutionary cause. The role of women in the novel not only shows their marginal status within a society dominated by males and naked force but becomes yet another point of differentiation between Luis and the “revolutionary” group. After Luis finds a “currita” that he expresses the intention of marrying, she must lock herself away from the other men for fear of rape. This romantic subplot also highlights the recurring tensions, distrust and conflict that exists between city and urban-dwellers.
As these variances in acculturation accumulate, Luis realizes that his “place” in the revolution is not to be found amongst the armed services but in the urban, professional class. At this point he begins to trade loot with the other members of the group to get the most valuable objects and hides some of his loot from them. Demetrio catches him, but does nothing as Luis manipulates the impoverished leader’s rich moral self-conception by offering to prove his loyalty to the group by offering him his take, which is declined.

After Luis has accumulated enough loot he decides to leave the group. Realizing that the best use of the capital he has accumulated from his time with Demetrio would not be in unstable, impoverished Mexico, he relocates to Texas and invests in the completion of his medical studies. This depiction of capital and intellectual flight is not unique to this historical situation but a trend that still occurs in many Latin American countries. With Luis gone, Demetrio has no compass with which to interpret the vicissitudes of power politics. When asked by Natera who’s side he is on, the Carranca or Villa, his response is to recognize his ignorance on the matter and state that he will follow whoever Natera decides.

In the closing section of the novel the cost of the conflict takes on a greater potency. No longer is the conflict just between the opposing forces but between the purportedly liberated and themselves as well as them with the land. The fighting has claimed so many lives and horses that it has slowed or stopped agricultural production, the legacy of theft and pecuniary speculation has harmed trade and caused peasants to now prefer commodity to money exchange. The novel closes with a deep pessimism as to the future of the movement, best expressed by Demetrio himself. Demetrio returns home to his wife and child but finds that he no longer desires to do the farm work that helped instigate him to take up arms. Furthermore he starts to believe the grandiose, conquerors mythology he created about himself and when asked by his wife why it is that he continues to fight, he has no noble response but simply points to a stone he has just thrown and says: “See how that pebble can’t stop…” (86).

On a final note I think it’s worth commenting that the predominant translation of “Los De Abajo” has been “The Underdogs”. While I agree that the band depicted were “the underdogs” in the fighting that transpired, I believe that my short analysis of the novel indicates that Azuela did not intended this interpretation that these people were simply “those from below.” This is evident in the fact that the one surviving middle class characters, Luis, become so disgusted by what he witnesses that he deserts and the depiction of the rebels as brave, but ignorant bandits that cannot build but only destroy.

Review of "Hugo Chavez and the Bolivarian Revolution"

Richard Gott’s book Hugo Chavez and the Bolivarian Revolution is a highly readable account of the rise of one of the most controversial politicians in recent Latin American history. Gott provides a topical historical contextualization as to why it was that the previous constitution was viewed by so many Venezuelans as insufficient to their current social conditions and how it was that the dominant political parties within the country were not able to mobilize enough support to maintain popular credibility and soon withered away.

Gott lucidly shows that Chavez’s rise was a long time in the making due to the problematic internal dynamics of the country and focuses cites as evidence of it’s disorder the caracazo. While the collapse of the Berlin wall received the lions share of the world’s attention due to the implications it had in the Cold War, for Venezuela the caracazo was an event of equal importance. The riots and social unrest unleashed following price adjustments for public transportation in the poorer sections of the city spread out soon leading to the mobilization of the military to quell it. Following the soldiers quashing of unrest, the disintegration of Carlos Perez’s presidency and his Washington Consensus conceived policies of neoliberal reform was soon forthcoming. This event accelerated and deepened the commitment of political actors, especially those in the military, to look for new ways of creating a Venezuela that wasn’t so sharply divided by class.

Chavez’s attempted coup, his subsequent forming of political bonds and the subsequent formation of a 5th Republic Movement give better understanding into the wide support that Chaves has received there. It is in fact noteworthy that even at a time when there were no “Chavistas” in the state apparatus and as a new-comer, in the December 1998 elections that brought Chavez to power he received 56% of electoral votes while the next closest parties receiving 36% and 4%. Narrating the second coup attempt by reactionary elements in the business community and military showcases both his popularity as well as the degree to which the political edifice once in place had deformed. Following his election, Gott illustrates the role that political interest and community groups played in the writing of the new constitution and how it was that the Chavez government actively sought to incorporate previously marginalized communities into the polis, mobilized the military for community development and increase social spending.

In addition to this background, Gott, based upon numerous one-on-one interviews with the now deceased former president, contextualizes the intellectual context in which he operated. Eschewing the quasi-Marxist rhetoric of his friend Fidel Castro, Chavez has instead sought to resuscitate a 19th century revolutionary tradition epitomized by three Venezuelans: Simon Bolivar, Simon Rodriguez y Ezequiel Zamora. Giving the historical context of these three situates Chavez in such a way that he is not some lone, charismatic figure amongst a dark past but one of many in a tradition seeking to reign in the gross inequality that began with the Spanish system of slavery which transformed into quasi-colonial relations with European and American companies for oil exploitation.

Gott cannot be seen as attempting to minimize the radicalism of Chavez through this, for at no point does he obscure the fact that much of the support for him stems from former left-wing radicals. In fact, as he clearly believes that “it is impossible to understand the historical roots of Chavez’s success without reference to the powerful anti-Stalinist communism of De la Plaza and Miquilena that was to influence important sections of the Venezuelan left in the years after the 1940s” (79). People with Trotskyist leanings, such as former governor William Izarra, and former members of long de-mobilized guerilla groups helped shove him into power.

The depiction of a cult of personality around Chavez is common in writings and perceptions of Venezuelan political culture. Considering the country is only recently becoming largely literate, I’ve engaged in several conversation with people who claimed that this was the case there. While Gott’s writings do not go into detail on this fact, it is very clear that not only is there a right-wing oppositions but there is a left-wing opposition to Chavez as well. Ultra-leftists are critical of the manner in which Chavez has sought to actualize progressive policy within the country without enacting immediate, wholesale changes. Chavez has been derided by many of his former supporters as unnecessarily gradualistic and too accommodating, especially to the oil interests. While he was successful in winning the populations allegiance during the petroleum strike of 2002, he also decided to pay for national control of oil sites that had been sold by corrupt politicians to international oil companies rather than simply nationalizing them without recompense.

While Gott does not go into much detail regarding the success or failures of the Mision’s Chavez launched, he is both praising and critical of their functioning. As with the other historiography, Gott limns several of the conditions that are beyond Chavez’s capacity to influence in the short term that make the goal of this mision’s difficult. For instance, one of the tasks of the Chavez government has been the encouragement of movement of the urban poor into the agricultural sections of the country that have long been underused. The reason for this is simple, despite large amounts of fecund land the country’s abundant petroleum wealth artificially increases costs and makes food importing more cost effective. The government would rather, of course, have less people involved in the underground or parallel economy and put to use the land. Lacking capital investment for facilities and equipment, combined with the general preference for urban over rural living, this has been difficult. While government investment has been made in the region for housing and other facilities, actualizing his Plan Bolivar 2000 has been problematic and lead to those structures degenerating. It is not all failures, however. Other projects, such as his successful push to revitalize OPEC and lead to greater oil revenues for the government, are also highlighted.

As a book for understanding the past twenty years of Venezuela’s political climate as well as the Chavez phenomenon I highly recommend the book.

Review of "The Lost Steps"

After having deeply enjoyed Alejo Capentier’s novel Explosion in a Cathedral, I decided to pick up his other renowned novel The Lost Steps. Though the setting and plot are vastly divergent from the other work, his style is similar. The at times rambling poetic descriptions with flourishes of erudition, the variegated display of characters attitudes which leave and return in a mutated form like the evolving rhythms of Latin music, as well as the abiding concern over the interpenetration of personal and political engagement are just some of the qualities that brought me back to his writing. For it is these traits combined with many others that is able to transform a story into an artfully executed, moving novel about disillusionment and the possibilities for finding truth.

The novel follows the life of a composer who has grown up and lived in various countries. He is ambivalent to if not downright antagonistic to the American culture he now lives in, and is additionally alienated from his actress wife, his career, his friends and his mistress. Compounding this with the problems of “intellectualism” and a career which provides money but not the possibilities of self-edification overdetermine him into agreeing to leave for the jungle of an unnamed Latin American country to find a certain set of instruments desired for the collection of a museum. Unable to find meaning anywhere else in his life and seeking to please his former mentor that asked him to accomplish this task, the composer leaves. But not before the composer’s mistress Mouche decides to invite herself along.

Mouche is familiar with all of the “isms” of the time and self-identifies with the “cultural left”. She is not a socialist, as to be so would be to submit to authority over her, which she resists at every turn and to find a profession that was not involved in the continuing obfuscation of the mind – astrology. Instead she is engaged in petty rebellions against the bourgeoisie, of which she is a part, and bases all of her valuations upon the thoughts of the great Europeans aesthetes. This eventually leads to a conflict between her and the composer, as he increasingly looks down upon her inability to understand what she encounters based upon the object itself and as she makes a purchase of an art object there that she could obtain anywhere rather than the special, one of a kind objects d’art that she could only obtain there. We see the stirring of such animosity in the references to the bliss which the composer gets when speaking his mother tongue regularly. As he remember not only scenes from his childhood memories but also his “racial memory,” he feels more connected in this world.

A coup in their city of arrival causes them to delay their trip into the jungle. Time slows but due to the new regime the amount of money he was given is now worth much more. The couple escapes the city and a Canadian artist that the composer rightly fears would draw them back into the milieu he sought to avoid by taking a bus to the edge of the jungle to begin their trek to the place where it’s suspected that the instrument is located. While moving from van to boat to boat, there are several beautiful images and many interesting frontier town characters. Rosario, the Greek, the Adelanto and Fray Pedro are the main persons whose life-stories contribute along with the change of scenery to the dissolving effect on the composers habits and personality.

The composer’s growing respect for the atavistic once there leaves him to break with his Mouche once she’s come down with malaria and to then take up with Rosario. Rosario is a woman who is constantly described as unable to even be conceptualized by those that have not lived in the jungle and truly understood the adaptive requirements to live there. The linguistic signifier which she uses to describe herself once they are involved, “your woman,” implies that she is somehow property and in a disempowered state but as the other shows this is only the case if her choice in the matter is discounted. Rosario’s powerful emotions leads her to acts of service and affection toward the one that she has chosen, the composer, but this is shown to stem from a recognition of mutuality rather than expectation. The composers ability to genuinely change and stay this person, however, is tested and he fails. Following a return of the impulse to create a new musical arrangement, the composer suddenly needs paper and pen desperately. Their distance from civilization and the weather make it hard to do this. Following the arrival of a rescue party, the composer leaves despite his resolution to stay. He will just get some paper to take back with him and divorce his wife so he can be honestly married with Rosario and then he will return. Things, however, are not so simple.

When the composer finally returns to the area near where he was taken, he discovers that the woman that he wants to return to is no longer possible. It is directly alluded to by the Greek Miner that the world they live in is not that of Odysseus and that Rosario that she is no Penelope. The living conditions are such there that it is not possible to hold on to anything but the present.

Review of "Choice Theory"

Choice Theory: A New Psychology of Personal Freedom is William Glasser’s presentation of a mode for everyday human interaction that doesn’t rely upon coercion and force to compel people to act in a specific manner. Why is this desirable? Glasser holds that these power dynamics and compulsions to act limit the individual, leads to personal disempowerment, dissatisfaction with life and human relationships and an undue focus upon material possession rather than positive, high-quality social interactions. The manner in which Glassner seeks to evade such exertions of power is by promoting personal autonomy and demanding that we reflect deeply upon the choices available to people. By realizing how it is that we often form our own behaviors by choices we make, Glassner holds that we gain power over our emotions and our repertoire of responses – even if we can’t do so over the conditions in which we live. There are many examples given of how this actually works, some more compelling than others, as well as methods for obtaining positive results from a currently bad situation.

This can include avoiding two of the purely negative types of individuals that he cites as well as one of the methods for obtaining peace, contentment and happiness in a permanent relationship. This latter mechanism involves the conscious creation of “circles of belonging”. While the examples primarily relate to marriage, Glasser claims that this also applied to family and even work dynamics. Focusing on this can help counteract people’s choice to depress, exhibit deleterious psychosomatic functions and help build stronger social ties. On the point of generalized therapeutic practices, Glasser writes passionately that it is not that childhood or previous experiences of the patient that truly matters but whatever problematic relationship they are now in. Glasser states that normally he forgoes this typical Freudian tactic to instead analyze the problem and reorient them to proper behavior that recognizes their choice in disfunction. While, nominally, I agree with this, I think it also important for the therapist to provide the client with tools to better understand their former choices in such a manner as they can see how their choices, empowering or disempowering, creative or destructive, helped bring them to that point. Such a tract will of course depend on the desires of the client, but I thought it worth mentioning.

One of the larger sections which Glasser shows his choice theory in action is in his exposition on it’s functionality in public schools both ideally and in case studies. After having had his ideas adopted by a number of principles and even getting involved with them, he shows how the model explicated in Choice Theory in the Classroom works. This section, while interesting, has the same failings as several other points in the book. Simply it makes very broad claims without documentation. This is not to say that there are not some very worthy points to be made. Glasser agrees with Freud’s position that much of the self-repression which occurs isn’t, qua repression, bad – for if one was to unleash the many aggressive feelings one has when one’s desires are delayed or negated the world would be much more violent. However Glasser does claim that the world’s level of violence is increasing, a point that Steven Pinker’s book The Better Angels of Our Nature: Why Violence Has Declined refutes as well as current statistics on gun and knife violence. I point this out only as I find the foray of psychologists into social science to be understandable but also specious at times, for as in this case not only does the actual evidence go against him but it’s not needed for his argument that Choice Theory is a practice that should reach a wider audience. Another point that I find somewhat disconcerting is the author’s apparent claim that he has developed choice theory himself, without the influence of other theories, when much of the components of it were outlined by the Greek stoics thousands of years ago. While he did adapt aspects of it to fit modern needs and devise therapeutic approaches to it, I find this silent disavowal problematic.

One of the traits of this and several other of the FICAM readings that I’ve been doing that I look forward to writing on in the future is that manner in which many of these psychological texts posit that the application of the paradigm propounded within the books is claimed to create an ideal living situation for all in contradistinction to the terrible world administered by government. Additionally this type of power is claimed as pre-eminent by its exponents and in a way it becomes a force for universalist, humanist personal power. Those familiar with Foucault’s writing on psychology and biopower who haven’t had alarm bells ringing in the above paragraphs should have them going off now. As is mentioned in passing in the above, the psychological conception of autonomy that Glassner has is one that is radically separated from history and is in many ways concerned with reconciling the self to the needs of society. Such a direction, outlined in more detail with other psychologists in Foucault, Psychology and the Analytics of Power, has obvious issues both in it’s hermeneutic and therapeutic approach. If I seem to be overtly critical in the end of Glasser, I do not mean to be so. The framework he has employed clearly has genuinely positive effects on unwanted neurotic symptoms that should not be minimized, however I think it’s worth restricting it’s application to certain areas of living rather than propounding it as a panacea.

"How does the Subaltern Speak?"

In order to help promote his new book, Postcolonial Theory and the Specter of Capital my former professor Vivek Chibber has an insightful article up at Jacobin Magazine that explores some of the themes found in his new publication.

While I’ve yet to read it, the reviews of the book are overwhelmingly positive and his other major publication, Locked in Place: State-Building and Late Industrialization in India, is exceptionally insightful in it’s comparative analysis of developmental models of India and Korea.