James Dunkerley’s Power in the Isthmus ranks together with recent books by Weeks and Bulmer-Thomas as one of the best English-language works on Central America.
He presents a broad, successful and systematic analysis of a huge bibliography, especially of materials published in the region, and aptly combines the regional with the national dimensions, the recurrent with the particular. When one faces a book of seven hundred pages, it is very difficult to concur with all its propositions. But I should say that I am in general agreement with Dunkerley’s focus and analysis, apart from some differences in interpretation inevitable among colleagues with different backgrounds and familiarity with the same theme. For example, there are points at which a laudable emphasis on the endogeous leads him to neglect the direct action and moulding power of the exogenous factors (above all, the various types of intervention by the us government). Dunkerley has convincingly dismantled the image of Central America as a defenceless mass, perfectly malleable by such forces as us ambassadors, the Marines, and international bankers. This is indeed more a caricature than an analysis, and Dunkerley fully demonstrates
The White House has tended to place Central America within a framework of relations with overseas powers that are capable of competing for regional hegemony. During the last century these ‘third parties’ were first Britain and then Spain; in this century, Germany and since the 1950s the Soviet Union. This indirect approach might be considered as evidence of the expansionist nature of us foreign policy towards Latin America and the Caribbean, a proof of the permanence of the doctrine of ‘manifest destiny’, or even simply a clumsy excuse to justify intervention (or all three together). But this element could help to explain why many decisions and policies adopted by reformist governments (a degree of democratization of economic resources, union organization, cooperative movements) which no one would consider subversive in other areas of the continent, provoke so many tensions in Central America. The anachronistic character of a good part of the traditionally dominant groups plays an important role in all this. For when they see their rule threatened by a reformist or modernizing initiative, they regularly raise a catastrophist hue-and-cry among us circles that they know to be sensitive on foreign policy matters in the region. In short, the subversiveness of democratic, reformist and modernizing policies depends more than anything else upon the backwardness of the traditional groups, but to a large degree the participation of these groups in the power structure depends upon the anti-subversive, anti-communist sensitivity in Washington.
The apparent immobility of Central American politics in the 1930s and 1940s evidently contrasts with the intense popular agitation, the armed revolutionary organization and the insurrectional outbursts of the 1960s and 1970s. An interesting facet of this is the uneven development of revolutionary processes since the 1960s. There are clear differences, as Dunkerley correctly points out, between Nicaragua, El Salvador and Guatemala, on the one hand, and Honduras and Costa Rica on the other. Within the first group, too, each of the three countries is distinctive in a number of significant ways, including in the pattern and efficacy of social recruitment, mobilization, access to political power, and socio-economic transformation.
Political sociology and studies of revolutions have centred more on the factors which make revolutionary processes possible than on those which prevent them from developing. To consider the latter is to accept, if only as a hypothesis, that there is nothing in a society’s structure that makes revolutionary processes inevitable—a notion particularly repellent to voluntarist variants of Marxism. Dunkerley’s book provides us with elements to explore this general problem in relation to Central America. In what follows, I shall try to deal with two questions: (1) why revolutionary processes involving broad mass participation have developed in Nicaragua, El Salvador and Guatemala, each with its own characteristics and degree of efficacy; and (2) why they have not developed in Costa Rica and Honduras. Since Dunkerley pays particular attention to political factors and conjunctures, I shall give more emphasis to structural questions. I hope that a discussion of some hypotheses, however brief, might serve to complement Dunkerley’s analysis. footnote1
First, it is evident that the socio-economic differences between, say, Honduras and Guatemala—as much in what is referred to as their productive structures as in their class structures—are not sufficiently large to account for the existence or not of revolutionary processes. Similarly, the relevant differences between Costa Rica and Nicaragua are of a political and institutional nature more than a matter of the structure of land tenure or income distribution. footnote2 From the 1950s the five economies of Central America were seized by a broad and intense process of economic modernization in two major areas: agricultural exports, and industrialization within the framework of the Central American Common Market (cacm). However, this took place within political contexts that varied appreciably from country to country. The ‘junction’ of these two dimensions helps to explain the development of revolutionary strategies in certain countries and of reformist strategies in others, as well as the specific characteristics of them all.