Emotions in context: Revolutionary accelerators,hope, moral outrage,and other emotions in the making of Nicaragua's revolution

Building on the social movement/revolutions and recent social movement emotions literature and using interviews and oral history from revolutionary Nicaragua, I make a case for recognizing the significance of emotions when studying revolutions. The essay aims for a contextual understanding of the role of emotions in the making of revolution during the insurrectionary period in Nicaragua. These are examined from the vantage point of revolutionary accelerators the conflictual event-contexts from which revolutionary actors emerge. Through the historical analysis of testimonies associated with a number of politically significant events that changed the course of political dynamics in 1970s Nicaragua, the piece illustrates: (1) how events function as generators of revolutionary action and (2) how event-related emotions such as anger and fear, but primarily moral outrage and hope, contribute to a transformation in consciousness that leads potential participants to define their circumstances as needing their revolutionary involvement. It also attempts to demonstrate how the latter two emotions—moral outrage and hope—are dominant under different event-contexts. Lastly, the relationships between these emotions and how these are connected to revolutionary accelerators are similarly explored.     

The impact of revolution on social welfare in Latin America

Conclusion The foregoing analysis assessed ways that revolutions affected the social welfare of Latin Americans. It compared differences between societies of roughly similar levels of economic development that did and did not have revolutions, revolutions ushered in by different class alliances, revolutions instituting different modes of production, and revolutions occurring in countries differently situated within the world economy. The class transformations in Mexico, Bolivia, Cuba, and Peru gave rise to more egalitarian societies than they displaced, but low income groups in each country gained most during the new regimes' consolidation of power. Subsequently, the interests of the popular sectors were sacrificed to those of middle and upper income groups. The rural masses benefited from revolution mainly in conjunction with agrarian reforms.Agrarian reforms have been promulgated in all the countries under study, but a much larger proportion of the agrarian population and a much larger proportion of the farmland has been redistributed in the four countries that had political upheavals than in the paired countries that did not. Whereas all the land reforms perpetuate minifundismo, recipients of land titles enjoy a modicum of security and the opportunity to appropriate the full product of their labor, which rural wage workers and peasants dependent on usufruct arrangements do not.Examining the countries that have had revolutions shows that peasants and workers do not necessarily benefit most when they participate in the destruction of the old order. Peasants and rural farm laborers gained land where they were disruptive, but in Mexico only after a global Depression weakened the ability of large landowners to resist expropriation. The Peruvian experience demonstrates that rural laborers may benefit even if they are politically quiescent at the time of the extralegal takeover of power, and that they may, under certain conditions, gain benefits sooner after revolutions from above than after revolutions from below. The level of development of the economy and the way the societies have been integrated into the world economy historically limit what Third World revolutions can accomplish, quite independently of how the upheavals originated. The four revolutionary governments adapted land policies to property relations under the anciens régimes, and they reorganized agriculture to profit from trade. Global constraints have also been one factor restricting labor's ability to improve its earning power and influence over the organization of production. Labor did benefit from the upheavals, but as the postrevolutionary governments became concerned with attracting foreign investment and foreign financial assistance, and with improving profits from trade, labor was marginalized. The Mexican-Brazilian comparison, however, suggests that the middle class and the small proportion of workers employed in the oligopolistic sector benefit more and the richest 5% less in societies where civilian groups have been incorporated into the political apparatus as a result of revolution than in equally industrialized societies where they have been excluded, in the absence of revolution.Revolutionary-linked forces may modify the income generating effect of capitalist industrial dynamics, though not to the advantage of the lowest income earners.The dominant mode of production instituted under the new order is the aspect of revolution most affecting patterns of land and income distribution and health care. To the extent that ownership of the economy is socialized the state has direct access to the surplus generated. Although the Cuban state has not consistently allocated the resources it controls to low income groups, because the Castro regime need not provide a favorable investment climate, it can more readily redistribute wealth downward than can the capitalist regimes. It accordingly has also been freer to redesign the health care delivery system in accordance with societal needs rather than business interests and market power. But the Cuban experience suggests that the distributive effects even of socialist revolutions can be limited. Although socialism allows certain allocative options that capitalism does not, the capacity to improve the welfare of Third World people by any revolutionary means is constricted by the weak position of less developed nations within the global economy, by investment-consumption tradeoffs, and by internal political and economic pressures.     

Small state,big revolution: geography and the revolution in Laos

Extant theoretical insights—mostly derived from studies of prominent revolutions in large countries—are less useful when applied to the unfolding of revolutions in small states. To understand why revolutions happened in the latter, a framework is needed that takes into account geography. For small states, geography is more than dotted lines on maps. It is the source of intervention and vulnerability. Deeply mired in history and memory, states’ geographies shape their distinctive identities and have great impacts on national political trajectories, including revolutions. Thus, to provide understanding of revolutions in these countries, no analysis could be complete without taking into account their places, understood in physical, ideational, and historical terms, within their regions and the world. The case of Laos is used to suggest a geographical analysis of revolutions that provides overlooked insights into the origins, processes, and outcomes of revolutions in small, vulnerable states.

---

Trotsky’s error: multiplicity and the secret origins of revolutionary Marxism

ABSTRACT

Uneven and Combined Development uniquely incorporated societal multiplicity into Marxist theory. So why did its first application end in Stalinist dictatorship? This paper seeks an answer by turning the idea back on itself, applying it first to Trotsky’s doctrine of ‘permanent revolution’ and then to Marx’s original idea of revolution. Trotsky hoped that Russia’s ‘revolution of backwardness’ would be rescued by ‘advanced’ revolutions in the West, modelled on the French revolution. But what if – as this paper argues – that event too was ultimately a ‘revolution of backwardness’? Two implications follow. First, Trotsky’s ‘permanentist’ strategy was logically flawed: if all modern revolutions have been internationally-generated catch-up revolutions, then the idea of Bolshevism being rescued by ‘advanced revolutions’ elsewhere fails. But second, the consequences of multiplicity reach even deeper than Trotsky realized: they underlie and explain the original political formation, and troubled history, of revolutionary Marxism itself.     

The political process of the revolutionary samurai: a comparative reconsideration of Japan’s Meiji Restoration

In the 1860s and 1870s, the feudal monarchy of the Tokugawa shogunate, which had ruled Japan for over two centuries, was overthrown, and the entire political order it had commanded was dismantled. This immense political transformation, comparable in its results to the great social revolutions of the seventeenth through nineteenth centuries in the West, was distinctive for lacking a major role for mass political mobilization. Since popular political action was decisive elsewhere for both providing the force for social revolutions to defeat old regimes and for pushing revolutionary leaders to more radical policies, the Meiji Restoration’s combination of revolutionary outcomes with conservative personnel and means is puzzling. This article argues that previous accounts fail to explain why a group of relatively low-status samurai—administrative functionaries with some hereditary political privileges but in fact little secure power within the old regime—was able to overcome far more deeply entrenched political actors. To explain this, it is necessary to distinguish clearly between two political processes: the long-standing political relations of feudal monarchy and magnate lords and the unprecedented emergence of independent samurai political action and organizations cutting across domain boundaries. It was the interaction of these two processes that produced the overthrow of the Tokugawa and enabled the revolutionary outcomes that followed it. This article’s revised explanation of the Meiji Restoration clearly places it within the same theoretical parameters as the major revolutions of the seventeenth century and later.     

A Comparative Framework for the Analysis of International Student Movements

Recent theory and research on revolution indicate that leadership and ideology play crucial roles. Much of the leadership and ideology for contemporary revolutions developed within the context of student movements. But previous research on student movements has often been limited to developed Western societies and has yielded typologies of student activism that have little application to revolutionary movements worldwide. Based on an analysis of student movements in many societies during the twentieth and early twenty-first centuries, a new typology of student movements is formulated. The typology, which allows differentiation among reform student movements, identity radicalism student movements, structural revolutionary student movements, and social revolutionary student movements, appears capable of identifying the essential contrasts as well as key similarities among a wide range of student movements in many societies. Conditions fostering each type of movement are described. The paper concludes with a discussion of case studies in several countries and how these student movements are categorized in the new typology.     

Fighting in the Dark: Ideology and State Formation in Post‐Colonial Burma

Extant major approaches to states and revolutions privilege the role of state practices and the character of war‐making in shaping modern state‐making in the Third World. Bringing the role of ideology into this analytical landscape of state‐making, this paper advances an alternative claim that ideological practices shape modern state structures and practices as well as the dynamics of political contention between the state and the revolutions. First, I argue that that intra‐movement ideological dynamics within the nationalist movement can have a profound impact on the structure and practices of the state. Using the writings of the party leaders, memoirs and official publications of the Burmese communist party, I maintain that subtle and specific ideological differences amongst the Burmese leftist movements generated organizational splits and internecine conflicts in the nationalist struggle, which exerted profound influences on the structures and practices of the Burmese state Secondly, relative ideological positions of the state and the revolutionary movements play an important role in shaping the dynamics of contention between the state and revolution. For example, an intimate web of ideological affinity between the nascent Burmese state and the Burmese leftist movements shaped the context and content of political contention between the state and these movements in the post‐colonial Burma. To address these issues empirically, the first part of the paper examines the formation and cementation of organizational linkages amongst Burmese leftist nationalists during the anti‐colonial struggle. The second part of the paper addresses specific and subtle ways in which ideological character and practices of the Burmese state and the Burmese Communist party shaped state practices and state structures in modern Burma as well as the dynamics of political contention between the state and the revolutionary movements.     

Why Did the Communists Win or Lose? A Comparative Analysis of the Revolutionary Civil Wars in Russia,Finland, Spain,and China

According to classic interpretations of the communist revolutions, political mobilization of peasantry was critical for the success of the revolutionary forces. This article, which reexamines the experience of civil wars in Russia, Finland, Spain, and China, argues that peasants’ contribution to the revolutions in Russia and later in China became possible under two historical conditions: breakdown of state authorities during the mass mobilization wars and existence of an unresolved agrarian problem in the countryside. Neither of these conditions alone, as the experience of other countries has shown, was sufficient for a success of the revolutionaries. The Spanish civil war of 1936–1939, for instance, was not preceded by a major international war. Because institutions of the traditional social order had not been undermined by war, Franco was able to defeat the Popular Front government, despite the peasants’ support of the revolution. In the Finnish civil war of 1918, which broke out in the wake of World War I and the Russian Revolution, state institutions did not collapse completely and the peasantry was divided in their responses to the revolution; the rural smallholders, for example, aligned with the Mannerheim's White army, not with the urban revolutionaries.     

Reflections on the revolutionary wave in 2011

The “Arab Spring” was a surprising event not just because predicting revolutions is a difficult task, but because current theories of revolution are ill equipped to explain revolutionary waves where interactive causal mechanisms at different levels of analysis and interactions between the units of analysis predominate. To account for such dynamics, a multidimensional social science of revolution is required. Accordingly, a meta-framework for revolutionary theory that combines multiple levels of analysis, multiple units of analysis, and their interactions is offered. A structured example of theory building is then given by detailing how the development of world cultural models and practices challenge existing political structures, affect mobilization processes, and make diffusion more likely. A structured example of study design using qualitative comparative analysis of 16 Middle Eastern and North African countries provides support for the interaction of subnational conditions for mobilization, state-centered causes, and transnational factors, including a country’s linkage to world society, as one explanation of the Revolutions of 2011.     

Theories of collective action and the Iranian revolution

Most analyses of the collective actions that led to the Iranian revolution rest upon one of two classical models: social breakdown or social movement. These explanations emphasize such factors as the politicization of recently uprooted migrants, the growth of a new middle class opposing autocracy, the authority of the clergy, and specific aspects of Shiite Islam. Conflicts of interest, capacity for mobilization, coalition formation, and the structure of opportunities that shaped the collective actions of various groups and classes are ignored or downplayed. This paper argues that mobilization and collective action against the monarchy resulted from the adverse effects of state development policies on bazaaris, industrial workers, white-collar employees, and professionals. Bazaaris' mobilization provided an opportunity for other social groups and classes to oppose the government. A coalition of disparate interests, led by Ayatollah Khomeini, brought down the monarchy.Iran's two major twentieth-century revolutions, and especially the second, appear so aberrant. They do not fit very closely widespread ideas of what modern revolutions should be like. Yet there is no doubt that the Islamic revolution in 1978–79 provided a thoroughgoing overthrow of the old political, social, and ideological order (Keddie, 1983:580).     

Citizen radicalism and democracy in the Dutch Republic

Conclution In this article I have investigated one of the supposed founder-members of R. R. Palmer's Age of Democratic Revolution, the Dutch Patriot movement of the 1780s. My purpose was to show that this movement, even though the Patriots made extensive use of such standard items of the democratic vocabulary as popular sovereignty and representation, did not envisage a political system that might be reasonably fitted into the revolution that Palmer had in mind.Instead, the Patriots stood within a long tradition of urban middle-class opposition politics. They held on firmly to both form and content of that tradition. What was new about them was the intensity and thoroughness with which they worked toward their goal of remedying the, as they saw it, corruption of the political system. We might even speculate that they had carried this particular tradition of urban corporatist republicanism to its logical extremes; that is to say, to a point where an even more radical step would be necessary to overcome the resistance of the established powers. They might, for example, have considered to take popular sovereignty at its face value, and over-come their distaste of democracy, so as to include the lower classes into their movement. That step, however, would have taken them outside the tradition that provided them with a specific brand of political liberty. Before the intervention of Prussian troops in the fall of 1787 they were not prepared to make such a momentous decision. For this would have implied a dropping of much that was essential to the corporatist ideology, which had been the prime motivation for their actions in the first place.Corporatism was deeply rooted in the Dutch society of the Old Regime. Economically, it provided major sections of the middle class with some sort of protection against the vicissitudes of conjunctural fluctuations and other uncertainties besetting the small but independent merchant or craftsman. Socially, it made these people into a community, in which they had some sort of social status. Politically, it gave the whole of the middle class a claim on the authorities, while at the same time keeping the lower classes at bay.Corporatism was not unique to the Dutch Republic. We have seen that German towns knew a similar middle-class ideology and similar political movements. French towns too had their privileges and their guilds. Nevertheless, they did not produce anything like the kind of political protest that was voiced by the Dutch and German middle classes. Against the idea of a single democratic revolution I have pitted the differentiated model of European state-formation, and tried to link an investigation of a particular form of collective action to that model. The pattern of a politically vital urban middle class in Germany and the Netherlands on the one hand, and its absence in France - and Britain, for that matter - on the other, in fact seems to coincide very well with the model of a commercial versus agrarian (or feudal) zone. These conclusions may lead us to some further speculations, both on the theoretical level, as well as in regard to this particular piece of Dutch history.When we look forward, toward the Batavian Republic that was founded in the wake of the French invasion of 1794–95, the ensuing struggles between moderates and radicals about political reforms - deemed necessary by all parties - do not so much present themselves as a clash between conservatives and revolutionaries, but as one between two different strands of reform. The moderates kept to the traditions of localism and corporatism, and strove for a return to the roots of the old republican constitution. The radicals on the other hand, had come to the conclusion that the problems of the Dutch state were of a magnitude that could only be overcome by wiping the slate clean and starting all over again, this time along the lines that had been suggested by the French example. The fact that many Dutch radicals had lived in exile in France in the years after 1787, where they had first-hand experience of a revolution in a completely different setting from the one at home, may perhaps in large part account for their specific brand of politics. At the same time, they can serve as prime examples of the revolutionaries-as-statemakers that Theda Skocpol has drawn attention to.This leads us to the second point. This investigation has, once more, suggested the importance of state formations in the analysis of political processes. The Dutch state had come into being in its specific form because this form served the interests of both the indigenous ruling class, that resented interference by centralizing bureaucracies, and the commercial community, that resented interference by anyone. For the local oligarchs it was of prime importance that the state's power should derive from theirs, instead of the other way. The merchants wanted the state to provide them with protection against foreign aggression and nothing more. Against this coalition any centralizing institution would have to muster an equally formidable coalition of its own. The attempt was hardly ever made.The state, being the way it was, refuted some ideologies and institutions, while supporting and legitimating others. Of course, the latter were generally concomitant with the larger make-up of the state. They did, however, leave room for maneuver as both ideologies and institutions tended to be two-sided: The stress on self-government by the local patricians, for example, might be taken up by other parts of the populace as well, and turned against patrician dominance. In the same vein, the militias that should preserve public order, might turn into vehicles for rebellion. Thus, the state could not prevent opposition, but it dictated the forms it would take - the demands put forward, the means of popular mobilization. Even though the Dutch state, in terms of organization, did not seem equal to these tasks at all, it held sway over both its supporters and its discontents.     

States and urban revolutions

Conclusion The structural perspective applied here highlights the features that led to the successful, anti-modern, and backward-looking religious revolution in Iran and the failure of a democratic socialist, worker-oriented movement in Poland. I argue that one can best understand the outcome of modern revolutions by focusing on the state and its relations to the society. By contrasting two countries and two revolutions, I have tried to show that variables such as the structure of the state, the patterns of state-church conflicts, the shifting church-class alliances, and the impact of geopolitics on these domestic factors are essential in explaining why one revolution succeeded while the other failed.The comparative argument can be summarized in the following way. In terms of state structure, the one-man rule in Iran strengthened the absolutist power of the Shah, but weakened the organizational capacity of the various state agencies to deal with political crises. The state bureaucracy and military disintegrated when the leadership lost its authority. In Poland, the existence of powerful and potentially autonomous organizations within the state apparatus made the counterrevolution possible. The party bureaucracy functioned despite chaos at the top and bottom of the hierarchy; and the Polish generals used the united military to seize power by declaring martial laws.The dialectical relation between state and society is equally important to understanding the different revolutionary outcomes. The Iranian state intensified its attacks on the Shiite clergy in the 1970s, emasculating the power of this non-state elite. When popular discontent broke out, the Shiite clerics became the revolutionary vanguard, mobilizing the support of all urban classes and leading the final assault on the monarchy. On the other hand, after a period of repression, the Polish regime made peace with the Roman Catholic church in order to appease the overwhelming Catholic population and to gain legitimacy. Because of the moderation of the state's religious policy, the church played a mediating rather than revolutionary role in the state-class conflict of 1980–81. While the clergy in Iran allied with the urban classes, the Polish church first supported the creation of Solidarity and then broke this alliance; the neutrality of the church thus reduced drastically the capacity of Solidarity to negotiate with the party-state. In these two cases, the participation of the clergy or the withdrawal of its support to urban classes means class capacity or incapacity to fight the regime.In addition, the international contexts had a great impact on the Iranian and Polish conflicts. The Polish state was constrained by its satellite position within the Soviet military empire, and the Polish Catholic church by the Vatican bureaucracy. The Soviet threat of invasion forced the party to choose military repression and convinced the religious elite to adopt a cautious attitude. In contrast, the Iranian state was relatively independent from the United States. The U.S. administration had no policy of military intervention in the Gulf region, and because it was devoid of any constraint, Iran's clergy followed the revolutionary call by a charismatic leader.     

State and revolution

Conclusion Our brief examination of the conditions underlying the political crises of the Meiji Restoration and the Prussian Reform Movement has tended to reinforce by contrast our central arguments about the causes of revolutionary political crises in France, Russia, and China. Bourbon France, Hohenzollern Prussia, Tokugawa Japan, Manchu China, and Romanov Russia - all became subject to military pressures from more economically developed nations abroad and all experienced in response societal political crises. Yet only France, Russia, and China were plunged into the upheavals of social revolution, while Prussia and Japan, relatively speaking, adapted speedily and smoothly to international exigencies through reforms instituted from above by autocratic political authorities. The different fates of these agrarian monarchical regimes faced with the challenges of adapting to the exigencies of international uneven development can be explained in large part by looking at the ways in which agrarian relations of production and landed dominant classes impinged upon state organizations - though it is also important to assess the severity of the pressures from abroad with which each regime had to cope.In Russia, the revolutionary crisis of autocratic rule and dominant class privilege was due to the overwhelming stress of World War I upon an early-industrializing economy fettered by a backward agrarian sector. The Imperial regime was strong enough to override dominant class interests and enforce modernizing reforms after the shock of defeat in the Crimean War, but it was not able to reorganize agrarian class relations that were inimical to modern economic development or rapid increases in productivity. Even extraordinary successes of state-propelled industrialization were not enough to allow TsaristRussia to make up her economic lag behind the West, and she remained entangled within the European states system as it careened toward World War. By contrast, neither Japan nor Prussia was so agriculturally backward or internationally pressed during early industrialization as Tsarist Russia.Both Bourbon France and Manchu China had fairly prosperous agrarian economies and experienced foreign pressures no greater than those experienced by Tokugawa Japan and Hohenzollern Prussia. Another pattern is the differentiating cause here: specifically, the presence or absence of a landed upper class with insitutionalized political leverage at extralocal levels, over against fiscal and military policing functions centrally organized by royal administrations. If such politically organized and administratively entrenched landed classes were present, as they were in France and China, then the reactions of these classes against autocratic attempts to institute modernizing reforms deposed the monarchies and precipitated breakdowns of administrative and military organizations. This meant that externally induced political crises developed into potentially social-revolutionary situations. But if, as in Japan and Prussia, politically powerful landed classes were absent, so that the oldregime states were more highly bureaucratic, then foreign-induced crises could be resolved through political struggles confined, broadly speaking, within the established governing elite and administrative arrangements. And this precluded the possibility for social revolution from below.Social revolutions in France, Russia, and China were launched, it has been argued here, by crises centered in the structures and situations of the states of the Old Regimes. Still, the actual occurrence of social revolutions in these three countries depended not only upon the emergence of revolutionary political crises, but also upon the conduciveness of the agrarian sociopolitical structures of the Old Regimes to peasant revolts. To go on with the analysis from here, therefore, we would have to reexamine the prerevolutionary societies from the opposite perspective, no longer from the top down with emphasis on the state, the dominant class, and the international context, but from the bottom up with emphasis on the structural situation of the peasants in the agrarian economy and in local political and class relations. While this task cannot be accomplished here, it is undertaken in the larger study of which this analysis is only a part.     

How limited is reformism?

Conclusion According to the reformist limitations thesis, a labor movement that organizes around a reformist program can never mount a challenge to capitalism itself. This program can be implemented without touching the sides, as it were, of the reigning system. Our own interpretation of the post-war history of the British and Swedish labor movements suggests the opposite. Unless the dominant political element in a reformist labor movement can be deflected from its program, and the internal cohesion of the movement thereby destroyed, a challenge to capitalism is inevitable.In the British case, the labor party remained the politically dominant component in the labor movement, and it turned its back on its own reformist commitments and espoused the defense of profits and managerial prerogatives. For historical reasons, the British trade-union movement never escaped from this dubious political guardianship and hence never developed the resources to continue a reformist political struggle in spite of the labor party.The Swedish social-democratic party shared throughout the post-war period the same focus on stabilization on the terms of an ongoing capitalist system as its British counterpart. But its escape from its reformist commitments was only partial, as its egalitarian traditions and ties to LO were stronger. To the extent to which it kept its political faith and went beyond mere welfarism, it saved itself from the disintegration and marginality of the British labor party and sustained the outward unity of the labor movement. To the extent to which the party fell from reformist grace, the trade-union movement displaced it as the political leading edge of the organized working class. The measure of reformism's compatibility with capitalism is thus the relationship between LO's (and increasingly also TCO's) policies and organization on the one hand, and the vital institutions of capital on the other.The dynamics of class conflict under capitalism point to two institutions the integrity of which must be defended if the system is to survive as such. The first of these is private property coupled to a market mechanism that gives private managements exclusive power over the allocation of productive resources. The social power of private property is exercised impersonally by market forces on the capital market, and personally in managerial prerogatives in the firm. The second vital institution of capitalism is its labor market under-pinned by the bourgeoisie's power to create unemployment and thus subvert opposition to its rule through deflation and failures of business confidence. Here lie the clues to what a progressive - cumulative - transition to socialism looks like. The normal mechanisms and règles du jeu of these two markets give way to political resource allocation, and corporate management yields up more and more of its prerogatives to the mobilized collective will of the workforce. Labor is de-commodified, and the investment function is enmeshed in a net of direct and indirect social controls.To project these changes in a written manifesto would presumably be revolutionary. The development of Swedish trade unionism suggests that, to go on pursuing the basic social justice and job security that reformists have always plodded after, meant implementing these changes anyway - piecemeal and as a matter of pragmatic necessity. The difference between revolution and reform thus boils down to their relative effectiveness in working-class mobilization and thus their historical potential.     

A fifth generation of revolution theory?

The study of revolution in historical sociology is conventionally divided into four ‘generations’ of scholarship, with the fourth associated with an agency‐focused approach that departed from an immanent critique of the structuralism they saw in the third. However, the resurgence of revolution in the early 21^st century led to the criticism that even the fourth generation had failed sufficiently to overcome its structuralist limitations. This essay identifies a hitherto unacknowledged ‘fifth’ generation, exemplified in the three works under review, and distinguished by its move away from an object of study conceived as violent social transformation towards non‐violent change of political regime. This focus on revolutions with many friends and few enemies entailed a convergence with democratization and social movement theory, and the post‐Cold War dominance of the United States as global context. That liberal moment now having passed, revolutions have again become far more divisive and class‐based affairs even if they do not propose a programme of profound social transformation, as witnessed in the aftermath of the ‘Arab Spring.’     

Trajectories of Institutional Disintegration in Late-Soviet Russia and Contemporary Iraq

How might revolutions and other processes of institutional disintegration inform political processes preceding them? By mapping paths of agency through processes of institutional disintegration, the trajectory improvisation model of institutional breakdown overcomes "action-structure" binaries by framing political revolutions as possible outcomes of such disintegrative processes. The trajectory improvisation approach expands the trajectory adjustment model of social change developed by Gil Eyal, Iván Szelényi, and Eleanor Townsley. An overview of political revolution in Soviet Russia between 1989 and 1991 illustrates trajectory improvisation. The recent American invasion and occupation of Iraq shows alternative routes to institutional disintegration, indicating the independence of models of institutional breakdown from those of social movements. These cases illustrate both the diversity of situations the trajectory improvisation model speaks to, and the limitation of models of trajectory adjustment, improvisation, social movements, and invasions, illustrating why such models at best enable what are called "explanatory narratives" of actual historical processes.     

The relevance of the Chinese experience for third world economic development

Conclusion If the ten elements of Chinese development strategy discussed earlier are to provide object lessons relevant for other third world nations, they must be potentially transferable to other societies. The extent to which each element of the strategy is transferable depends on the conditions under which it can be successfully implemented, and on the degree to which these conditions are satisfied in other third world nations. I had also sought to determine what political-economic, geographical, and historical conditions are required for the successful implementation of each of the ten elements of strategy. The results of this analysis are summarized in the form of a matrix in Table 1. Each of the ten elements of strategy under discussion requires at least one - and often many more - of the major features of China's political-economic system. In all cases an effective and extensive system of public administration and/or a massoriented class structure are required, and in most cases a considerable degree of public ownership of the means of production and administrative control of resource allocation is either necessary or helpful. Less often required, but crucial in a few cases, are a central government with the power to mobilize resources on a large scale, a political leadership capable of influencing and involving people on a wide scale, and a ruraloriented class structure.Among the key geographic characteristics considered, large size is necessary or helpful for the successful implementation of two of the ten elements of strategy, but is disadvantageous in many cases because it is then more difficult for the political leadership to establish an effective system of public administration and to influence and involve people on a wide scale. An abundance of labor and scarcity of land is quite generally disadvantageous because it makes the achievement of rapid economic growth more difficult under any development strategy. But ethnological unity can be very helpful for the establishment of a strong state in all three respects I have distinguished.A cultural tradition oriented to cooperative work is quite helpful - if not strictly necessary - for three of the elements of strategy. A heritage of educational and administrative experience is helpful - but not absolutely essential - for all ten elements, since it improves the operation of those basic economic institutions and those characteristics of the state which have played an important role in the success of the Chinese development strategy. The less a society has been subject to foreign domination, the more its environment is likely to be conducive to the success of many elements of the Chinese strategy. And, finally, a profound social revolution would appear to be necessary in most instances for the development of three features of the Chinese political-economic system which as a group are indispensable for the success of all ten elements of the Chinese development strategy.These conclusions suggest that most of the elements of strategy described are currently applicable in only a few third world nations at best. Only a handful of nations have experienced a social revolution of any kind, and not all of these revolutions have been strongly rooted in the rural masses. Moreover, many of the revolutionary societies (e.g., Cuba, Mozambique, Vietnam) have a bitter history of Western imperialist domination to overcome, and most have only a limited heritage of educational and administrative experience to draw upon (e.g., the African nations). Some do not have a cultural tradition conducive to collective modes of operation (most notably Cuba), and many are ethnologically heterogeneous (e.g., Angola, Mozambique). Of all contemporary third world nations, North Korea would appear to come closest to meeting the historical, geographical, and political-economic conditions that have played a significant (and in many cases an essential) role in the success of the Chinese development strategy. But even in the case of North Korea the match is far from perfect in many respects.Do these observations imply that the Chinese experience is essentially unique and therefore largely irrelevant for the rest of the third world? I think not. First of all, the Chinese experience has set new and higher standards for the evaluation of development performance and policy throughout the world: it is no longer enough to promote rapid economic growth, but development planners can and will be held accountable for achieving a balanced pattern of development in which non-growth objectives such as greater equity and self-reliance are promoted along with faster growth.Second, certain elements of the Chinese development strategy do lend themselves to successful application - at least to a certain extent - in other societies which differ considerably from China in their political-economic, geographical, and historical conditions. For example, the promotion of mass-oriented human resource development could be carried out with some success in a nation with a reasonably strong state (in terms of its capacity for resource mobilization and public administration) and a political leadership somewhat oriented to the masses. A strategy of restriction of luxury consumption is potentially more widely transferable, for it requires mainly a mass-oriented political leadership and, up to a point, does not depend on an unusually effective state apparatus. Some degree of economic diversification of regions and localities, as well as some degree of amelioration of rural-urban imbalance, can be successfully accomplished provided that the political leadership is sufficiently rural-oriented and can rely upon an effective and extensive administrative system. In all these cases the necessary configuration of political-economic conditions is possible (if not very likely) in a society that has not undergone a profound social revolution and that operates within a predominantly capitalist institutional framework. More revolutionary change would be more conducive to success, but not absolutely essential for some progress to be made.Third, and more important, some of the key conditions required for the successful implementation of much of the Chinese development strategy can be realized in the future even if they do not obtain at present in most third world societies. Here it is important to distinguish between those aspects of the setting of any given society which are virtually immutable and those aspects which are amenable to change under appropriate historical circumstances. The key geographical characteristics that I have discussed clearly involve stable features of a society's environment; nothing short of massive territorial annexation, massive migration, or genocide could alter the size, the resource endowment, or the ethnological structure of contemporary third world nations. The historical characteristics I have cited vary considerably in their susceptibility to change. Cultural traditions built up over centuries (and in some cases millenia) cannot be transformed within a generation. The amount of time it takes to overcome the effects of Western imperialism depends of course on the force and the longevity of its imposition, but in many areas at least a generation might be needed. And a substantial degree of educational and administrative experience can only be built up with several decades of concerted effort. The possibility of significant change in any of these three historical characteristics hinges on some kind of decisive break with the past which ushers in new political leadership determined to bring about large-scale change. Such a decisive break need not involve a revolutionary redistribution of power from dominating to oppressed classes, but it does require at least the accession to power of strongly nationalist forces determined to modernize their country (i.e., to increase its resemblance to the powerful industrialized nations of the modern world). Social revolution is the most fundamental historical characteristic of all, for it underlies the establishment of many of the key features of China's political-economic system and (not incidentally) also creates a context in which the needed changes in the other three historical characteristics become more readily achievable. Profound social revolutions, in which formerly oppressed classes do succeed in wresting power from formerly privileged classes, are not made overnight, but they can be brought about after a period of revolutionary organization and struggle. If the revolutionary movement is to be truly rooted in the masses (and the rural masses in particular), and if it is to succeed in a contemporary international context in which privileged classes in third world nations can often count on support from major foreign powers, it is bound to take a great deal of time and effort. But the point I am making here is that it has been done in some countries in the past, and there is every likelihood that it will eventually be done in some other countries in the future.At present it would be foolhardy to attempt to predict where Chinese-style revolutions might succeed in generating historical and political-economic conditions approximating those which have contributed to the success of the Chinese strategy of development. But there are many third world nations with one or more relevant geographic and historical characteristics already similar to China's. For example, India, Indonesia, and Brazil share China's large size, some of the Latin American nations are ethnologically quite homogeneous, many East and Southeast Asian nations have cultural traditions resembling those of the Chinese, the people of India and some of the other semi-industrialized nations of the third world have already acquired a substantial degree of educational and administrative skills, and nations such as Tanzania, Ethiopia, and Afghanistan were not thoroughly restructured by foreign powers. Profound social revolutions in any of these nations - however distant the prospect may now appear- would go a long way toward establishing the conditions under which many of the lessons from the Chinese strategy of development could indeed be successfully applied. As for the immediate future, there is little likelihood that the Chinese experience will be of much relevance to development planning in the rest of the third world. For the great majority of third world nations are still dominated by propertied or otherwise privileged elites, and, as one observer has put it, revolution is precisely the fate which [they] are striving to avert through their development.

---

     

Ideology,cultural frameworks,and the process of revolution

Conclusions: The varying role of culture The English and French revolutions were not the product of uniquely Western crises of capitalism or absolutism. They shared many elements with profoundly similar crises in the Eastern states of the Ottoman Empire and China. The divergence of Eastern and Western civilizations after the mid-seventeenth century thus cannot be simply attributed to a structural difference between Western revolutions and Eastern peasant rebellions or dynastic crises. In terms of institutional changes, particularly changes in local class structure, more extensive changes followed the seventeenth-century crises in Ottoman Turkey and Ming China than followed the English Revolution. The entire question of the divergence of Eastern and Western economic and political development, of Western dynamism and Eastern stagnation in the early modern period, therefore needs reexamination. In particular, the manner in which Western Europe forged ahead of the advanced Eastern civilizations of Islam and China needs to be explained in a way that accommodates the similarities of the seventeenth-century crises in each.Focusing on cultural frameworks and how they governed reactions to state crises and shaped state reconstruction provides an entry point for such an explanation. Different ideological legacies, embedded in state reconstruction after the seventeenth-century crises, profoundly influenced the later divergence of East and West.Discussions of culture and revolutions have been obfuscated by arguments over whether material or cultural and ideological factors are the primary agents of change. Clearly this false dilemma — asking whether history is governed by Marxist materialism or Hegelian idealism — fails to capture historical reality. A number of scholars have tried to overcome this dichotomy. Clifford Geertz, Natalie Davis, and Robert Darnton have turned to deep analysis of texts or events, analysis designed to illustrate the creativity of individuals and groups in producing symbols and actions that both express and shape their material conditions. Other authors — Giddens and Bourdieu — have put forth general theories of culture that stress the ability of individuals to appropriate cultural elements and use them to reconstruct or reinforce material and institutional structures. All of these approaches attempt to free individuals from the determinism of materialist constraints, and also from the mechanical reproduction of a dominant culture. These approaches therefore have the virtue of avoiding either a simple socioeconomic or cultural determination of individual action. Yet they also are almost useless for long-term, causal historical explanation, for they tend to reduce to a halfway house between materialism and idealism, blandly asserting that, in general, individuals respond to both their material and their cultural environments with (more or less) creative responses that both reproduce and alter those environments.But as we have just observed, the creative response to a changing environment is not constant. These theories of culture fail to appreciate temporal variation, that the role of culture may be quite different in particular concrete historical settings. At some times, as in politically stable periods, the level of cultural innovation may be low; at other times, as in prerevolutionary periods, ideological innovation may increase, but chiefly in response to material forces that create a social crisis. At still other times, as during state breakdown and the ensuing struggle for power, ideological creativity may rise to great heights and develop its own dynamics. And in the restabilization of authority after a breakdown, as the ideological creations of the power struggle become embedded in the postrevolutionary cultural framework, cultural patterns and ideologies may dominate the future possibilities for material as well as cultural change.Interestingly, it was precisely those revolutions that failed to overcome traditional rule fully but did experience a phase of creative, tradition-repudating ideology, namely England and France, that left a legacy of fruitful and dynamic tension in postbreakdown society. Although the Puritans and Jacobins faded after the revolutions, a part of their views remained in a rich stock of antitraditional symbols, institutions, and ideals. State reconstructions in those countries thus were continually challenged by claims to principles that hedged absolute authority. In contrast, the ideological response that occurred in tradition-reinforcing cases of state breakdown — as in the Ottoman Empire, China, and Hapsburg Spain — sought to purify and reaffirm traditional institutions. In these cases, the crisis was blamed on deviation from orthodoxy, and the new regimes sought to strip away variety in the extant cultural framework, purging elements perceived as heterodox. The reconstruction of state and social institutions allowed a recovery of traditional prosperity; but the impoverishing of the cultural framework of post-breakdown society reduced the basis for future dynamism and fundamental change. Meiji Japan was a hybrid case, as marginal elites did sweep away certain aspects of the traditional government and its status system, releasing resources for development and imperial expansion. But the Meiji Restoration still was framed in traditional and conservative ideology, which left a legacy of conservative and traditonal emphasis that continued to dominate much of political and social life.In short, theories of culture that simply describe the interaction of individuals with cultural elements in general terms are gravely incomplete. Cultural frameworks act with particular power at the times when states are rebuilt or revised in times of state breakdown or crisis. A more complete theory of culture — whose development has begun in the works of Wuthnow and Swidler — thus must recognize that cultural dynamics vary over time, becoming more fluid and more creative at some times, more rigid and more limiting at others.But in addition, these diverse outcomes suggest that macrosociology has unduly neglected the role of culture in constraining state structure and dynamics, particularly during periods of state crisis and reconstruction. Theories of social change must recognize that at some concrete historical junctures it is material forces, while at other such junctures it is cultural frameworks and ideologies, that play the dominant role in causing and directing change.This essay is an elaboration of chapter 5 of J. Goldstone's Revolution and Rebellion in the Early Modern World (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1991).

---

     

Divergent responses to a common past: Transitional justice in the Czech Republic and Slovakia

This article addresses the question of why, despite having shared a communist regime and a revolution against it, the Czechs and Slovaks have dealt differently with that regime's former high officials and secret police agents, files, and collaborators. I argue that this divergence challenges theories of transitional justice put forward by such scholars as Samuel Huntington and John P. Moran, who respectively identify transition type and levels of regime repression as the key factors shaping a new regime's response to its predecessor. I propose that a stronger influencing factor is the level of the preceding regime's legitimacy, as indicated during the communist period by levels of societal cooptation, opposition, or internal exile, and during the post-communist period by levels of elite re-legitimization and public interest in decommunization. In drawing this link between past and more recent developments, I also argue that struggles over transitional justice issues should not be considered exclusively as the politics of the present. Finally, I examine the cases of Poland, Hungary, and Romania to assess the broader applicability and limits of my theory.     

BETWEEN COSMOPOLITANISM AND THE NATIONAL SLOT: CUBA'S DIASPORIC CHILDREN OF THE REVOLUTION

Although cosmopolitanism used to be associated with Western, elite practices, it has in recent years been used to describe a wider array of practices by non-elite and non-Western groups. This article explores the cosmopolitanism of Cuba's “children of the revolution” living in Spain. They are those now young adults who were born in Cuba after the revolution and who were brought up to become the socialist New Man. Theirs was a world of socialist cosmopolitanism, which simultaneously was infused with commitment to a national, territorially-based political project: an independent, socialist Cuba. However, some of these New Men and New Women now embrace ideals of cosmopolitan individualism rather than the patriotic socialism with which they were inculcated as children. Yet the cultural tools that the children of the revolution make use of in their practices and narratives of cosmopolitanism paradoxically point back to revolutionary Cuba. The article argues that cosmopolitanism as a lived practice owes to experiences within the Cuban socialist-national project and is in effect a response to the ineffectiveness of this project, not necessarily a substantive opposition to it. Social capital and habitus deriving from Cuban socialism gave the children of the revolution the desire to attain cosmopolitanism as part of their life-projects. This finding suggests that the relationship between nationalism and cosmopolitanism needs further rethinking.