Social Movements and Progressive Governments - Building a New Relationship in Latin America
Marta Harnecker (pictured) will be one of the keynote speakers at Socialism for the 21st century: Moving beyond capitalism, learning from global struggles being held in Sydney on May 13-15.
By Marta Harnecker, translated by Richard Fidler January 2016 — Monthly Review, reposted on Links International Journal of Socialist Renewal with the author's permission — In recent years a major debate has emerged over the role that new social movements should adopt in relation to the progressive governments that have inspired hope in many Latin American nations. Before addressing this subject directly, though, I want to develop a few ideas. The situation in the 1980s and ’90s in Latin America was comparable in some respects to the experience of pre-revolutionary Russia in the early twentieth century. The destructive impact on Russia of the imperialist First World War and its horrors was paralleled in Latin America by neoliberalism and its horrors: greater hunger and poverty, an increasingly unequal distribution of wealth, unemployment, the destruction of nature, and the erosion of sovereignty. In such circumstances, many of the region’s peoples said “enough” and started mobilizing, first in defensive resistance, then passing to the offensive. As a result, presidential candidates of the left or center-left began to triumph, only to face the following alternative: either embrace the neoliberal model, or advance an alternative project motivated by a logic of solidarity and human development. Social Movements against Neoliberalism The fall of the Berlin Wall and the defeat of Soviet socialism left the parties and social organizations of the left inspired by that model seriously weakened. At the same time, trade unions were hit hard by the weakening of the working class, part of the larger social fragmentation produced by neoliberalism. In that context, it was new social movements, and not the traditional parties and social organizations of the left, that rose to the forefront of the struggle against neoliberalism, in forms that varied widely from one country to another.[1] In several cases, those new movements began by resisting neoliberal measures in their local communities, while others developed around gender, human rights, or environmental issues. Many then shifted their focus from isolated local issues to national matters, which not only enriched their struggles and demands but also gained them support from highly diverse social sectors, all suffering under the same system. An early expression of this development was the campaign marking the 500th anniversary of indigenous, black, and popular resistance. The campaign signaled an important convergence of many different groups, united through new organizing principles, including horizontalism, autonomy, gender awareness, and “unity in diversity.” It gave rise to new social coordinating organizations, such as the CLOC-Via Campesina, and helped clarify national and international agendas.[2] One such agenda was the campaign against the Free Trade Area of the Americas (FTAA), which was particularly successful in Brazil and Ecuador, and which later led to the first historic defeat of U.S. policy in the region, at the Organization of American States Summit at Mar del Plata in 2005. Since then the problems of regional integration are no longer considered matters for governments alone, but have also become concerns of the masses. The major element missing from Latin American politics in recent decades has been, with rare exceptions, the traditional workers’ movement, beaten down by flexibilization, subcontracting, and other neoliberal measures. While in some cases the labor movement has participated in wider popular struggles, it has not been on the front lines of combat. The new social movements often start by rejecting politics and politicians, but as their struggle progresses, many gradually grow from an attitude of mere resistance focused on single issues, to an increasingly political approach that questions the established authorities. In the process they begin to understand the need to build their own political instruments, as in Ecuador with Pachakutik and in Bolivia with the MAS-IPSP.[3] There are many lessons to learn from these mass struggles, but one of the most important is that they show the central importance of a strategy of solidarity that endeavors to unite the widest possible number around concrete objectives, building understanding even among groups with very different traditions and politics. Even when progressive governments are not elected amid such social mobilization, these struggles still exert an important influence, because the political maturity and broadened perspectives achieved in the course of those struggles endure in the consciousness of those involved. The Road to Socialism—Difficult but Not Impossible As we have said, faced with the forces of neoliberalism, some Latin American governments decided to take the road toward an alternative society, a turn which has been given different names: Twenty-First Century Socialism, communitarian socialism, the Buen Vivir (Good Life), the Society of a Life of Fullness (Sumak Kawsay in Kichwa, an indigenous language of the Andes). All envision a society that is not decreed from above but built by the people. The big challenge for these movements is to advance toward socialism when they have conquered only the government—a strategy that conflicts with the classic Marxist vision, which has traditionally insisted on the need to destroy the bourgeois state, as in the revolutions of the twentieth century. Those revolutions, born from civil wars or imperialist wars, not only mastered but destroyed the inherited state apparatus. So it is understandable that some sectors of the left feel disoriented when they find themselves in such a different situation today. Furthermore, electoral success captures only a part of the state. Control of executive power often initially comes without control of the parliament or judiciary. In addition, other capitalist-dominated institutions—finance, mass media, the military—remain intact. The issue, then, is how to work toward conquering these other areas of power, winning more people to the transformative project and ensuring that at every step they participate in building their own destiny. Beginning the advance toward socialism under these conditions poses a number of challenges. Progressive governments must be able to confront the backwardness of their countries, knowing that economic conditions will oblige them to coexist for some time with capitalist forms of production. And they must do this starting from an inherited state apparatus that is designed for capitalism and hostile to any activity oriented toward socialism. However, practice has demonstrated—contrary to the insistence of some sectors of the left—that if revolutionary cadres take over the existing state, they can use their power to begin building the foundations of the new institutions and political systems needed to replace the old state. Above all they can begin creating spaces for popular protagonism, preparing people to exercise power in all aspects of their lives. But history has shown that the heavens cannot be taken by storm, that a protracted period is needed to travel from capitalism to the new society that we want to build. Some people speak of decades (Chávez), others of centuries (Samir Amin, Álvaro García Linera), and still others, like me, think socialism will be a goal toward which we must strive but that we may never fully achieve. This view is not as pessimistic as it sounds. On the contrary, a utopian goal, if carefully defined, helps to light the path and strengthen our determination to fight, and each step that we take toward it, no matter how limited, brings us closer to that horizon. We in Latin America are living in a historical period that I call the “transition toward socialism.” However, while the goal can be shared, the form and methods used in the process of that transition must be adapted to the specific conditions of each country, depending not only on each nation’s economic characteristics but also on the existing configuration of class and political forces. This strategy of pursuing socialism through existing institutions is not only a long process but also one full of challenges and difficulties. Nothing promises uninterrupted progress; retreats and failures will occur as well. We must be clear that by winning a presidential election we have won a major battle but not the war. Winning the war through institutions requires the creation of a significant national majority. Only with such a majority will it be possible to advance democratically toward a new society. Accordingly, not only is unity among revolutionaries fundamental, but it is also necessary to embrace and enlist all those who share an agenda dedicated to solidarity and social justice. This means we should summon not only the political and social left, but also the center and even some business sectors that may be willing to collaborate with the popular project. At the same time, we must remember that the elites who were previously dominant respect the rules of the game only when it suits them. They are perfectly capable of tolerating and even favoring a left government if it implements their politics and limits itself to managing the crisis. What elites will always try to prevent—by legal or illegal means—is any program of profound democratic and popular transformations that challenge their own economic interests. Consequently, we must prepare to confront and defeat elite maneuvers meant to block the way toward socialism. One of those tactics may be to infiltrate progressive governments to undermine them from within. Another may be to win over union leaders in certain sectors, exploiting government weaknesses and errors, as occurred in Chile under Allende with workers in the copper-mining and transportation industries. Unfortunately, progressive governments are often compelled to defend themselves, not only from elite obstructionism, but also from parts of the left who—failing to understand the complexity of the process and opposed to any tactical flexibility—attack them for not achieving profound social changes fast enough, treating them as if they, and not the elite, were the main enemy. Unions and social movements also tend to take the same intransigent stance toward the state, regardless of its political-social orientation. We must find formulas to overcome this inherited attitude of reflexive opposition to any and all governments, even progressive ones. No less important a threat is the electoral agenda to which governments must often submit in order to legitimate themselves in the face of the ongoing attacks of the opposition. This agenda often collides with the agenda of participatory democratic construction, paralyzing or weakening popular power to make room for election campaigns. Yet it is not easy to resolve the contradiction between political tempos and democratic processes. Prolonged discussions of law and procedure can unnecessarily endanger the future of the transformative process, as in Venezuela and Ecuador. Thus, just as revolutionary leaders must use the state apparatus to alter forces they inherit and to build new institutions, they must also sponsor popular education on the limits or obstacles in their path—what I call a “pedagogy of limitations.” It is often thought that talking frankly to the people about such difficulties will discourage and demotivate them, but in fact it helps them to understand better the process underway and to moderate their demands, without, however, renouncing their socialist goals. To ensure that these messages are communicated, the pedagogy of limitations must be accompanied by the promotion of popular mobilization and creativity. It must be acknowledged that there has been a tendency on the left to think of popular organizations as manipulable, mere conveyer belts for the party or government line. The orthodox Marxist-Leninist left attributes this idea to a reading of Lenin’s thesis on the role of trade unions at the start of the Russian Revolution, when there seemed to be a very close relationship between the working class, the vanguard party, and the state. However, this ahistorical and incomplete reading of Lenin neglects the fact that the Russian leader himself abandoned this conception in the final years of his life when, during the New Economic Policy (NEP), he foresaw the development of potential contradictions between the workers and the directors of the state-owned enterprises, with dire consequences for the labor movement. Lenin argued that even in a proletarian state, unions had to defend workers’ class interests against the employers, if necessary using the strike as a weapon to combat bureaucratic distortions.[4] This change, which has profound political implications, went largely unnoticed by Marxist-Leninist parties, which until very recently treated the concept of the conveyer belt as the definitive Leninist thesis on the relationship between parties and social organizations. First with the trade-union movement and later with the social movements, the leadership, responsibilities, and the platform of struggle—in short, everything—were seen by Leninists as matters to be determined by the party leadership. These were then handed down as a line for social movements to follow, without the latter being allowed to participate in the design or development of any of the things that most concerned it. In stark contrast to this destructive approach, we must avoid any manipulation of popular movements and tolerate—what’s more, actively encourage—the pressure they exert, since it can help progressive government officials fight the deviations and errors that can arise along the way. It was in this spirit that President Chávez told a group of civil servants who had taken over the Ministry of Labor in Caracas, “Good, guys, there’s a lot of bureaucracy there.” Only the combined influences of an organized, watchful people and a government that understands the need for mobilization and popular criticism can prevent the distortions that may develop from blocking the way. But while officials must welcome criticism, it must always be constructive criticism that helps address problems by offering concrete alternatives. For example, the FMLN government in El Salvador has been faulted for its use of army soldiers to provide security against criminal gangs. But what alternative do these critics propose in order to protect the population if the police alone are incapable of doing the job? If the security issue is not successfully addressed, there is a real danger that the former ARENA government will be returned to office. As another example, progressive governments in Latin America have come under fire from left critics for their continued reliance on extractivism. It must be acknowledged that there are major problems related to extraction, but what alternative is posed as a means of freeing people from poverty without the extraction of at least some portion of our natural resources? Both of these topics—problems of neighborhood security and problems related to extraction—demand a constructive national dialogue laying out arguments from all sides. One who feels secure in the validity of an argument does not fear debate; rather, that individual should see it as an opportunity to enlist popular support. Popular proposals will be welcome because progressive governments are deeply concerned about neighborhood violence. Furthermore, they are so determined to address problems of poverty that they believe it is necessary to engage in extraction as part of a comprehensive anti-poverty strategy, even though they share popular concerns about the risks of relying on extraction. When it comes to dialogue, I would like to quote the words of Pope Francis who, when referring to this matter during his visit to Paraguay, said that this kind of dialogue cannot be