2001, dirk kruijt, low intensity democracies, latin america in the post-dictatorial era

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Low Intensity Democracies: Latin America in the Post-Dictatorial EraAuthor(s): Dirk KruijtSource: Bulletin of Latin American Research, Vol. 20, No. 4, Special Issue: Armed Actors inLatin America in the 1990s (Oct., 2001), pp. 409-430Published by: Wiley on behalf of Society for Latin American Studies (SLAS)Stable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/3339022 .

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Bulletin of Latin American Research, Vol. 20, No. 4, pp. 409-430, 2001

Low Intensity Democracies: Latin

America in the Post-dictatorial Era

DIRK KRUIJT1

Utrecbt University

In the context of the Cold War and accompanied by the doctrines of National Security, authoritarian and often repressive military or civil-

military regimes emerged in a number of Latin American countries. However, military regimes were not the only ones contributing to the formation of societies mutilated by fear and terror. During the last four decades, the continent became affected by a cycle of violence that involved various armed actors, from the armed forces to the guerrilla, from the paramilitaries to the narcotics-trafficking Mafia, or from the committees of self-defence to the 'common' criminals. This article focuses on the persistence of military influence and organised political violence more general in post-authoritarian and indeed post-Cold War Latin America. After briefly reviewing the historical legacy of so-called

'political armies' in the region as a whole, I offer an assessment of the

consequences of this legacy for the current agenda of democratic consolidation in Latin America. Two possible scenarios are examined: that of fairly progressive democratisation and civilianisation of

politics, and that of the re-emergence of violence despite the formal rule of democracy. In the latter scenario, de facto harsh and violent

regimes collide with a growing array of rival perpetrators of political and other forms of organised violence.

Keywords: militarism, democratisation, security forces, violence and fear, civil society, Latin America

Introduction

Latin America still lives with the legacy of the 1970s. In the context of the Cold War and accompanied by the doctrines of National Security, authoritarian and often repressive military or civil-military regimes emerged in a series of countries:

Argentina, Bolivia, Brazil, Chile, El Salvador, Honduras, Guatemala, Paraguay and Peru. Even the longstanding democracy of Uruguay was brought down by

1 Professor of Development Studies at Utrecht University. An earlier version of this paper was presented at the International Conference 'Funcion militar y control democratico', June 2000, Guatemala.

? 2001 Society for Latin American Studies. Published by Blackwell Publishers, 108 Cowley Road, Oxford OX4 1JF, UK and 350 Main Street, Malden, MA 02148, USA. 409



Dirk Kruijt

the military. In Cuba and Nicaragua, political-military regimes with a socialist

ideology were installed, which in practice opted to exclude the popular vote, rival

political parties, and social actors operating outside the sphere of the sole party in

power. Military regimes were not the only ones contributing to the formation of

societies mutilated by fear and terror. During the last four decades, the continent became affected by a cycle characterised by violence that various armed actors

implemented: from the Armed Forces to the guerrilla, from the paramilitaries to the narcotics-trafficking Mafia, or from the committees of self-defence to the 'common' criminals. However, of all these actors, it was the armed forces who embodied the predominant role in constituting the 'societies of fear', where terror

reigned instead of justice, torture instead of conviction, the bullet instead of the

pen (Kruijt and Koonings, 1999; Kruijt, 1999; Pecaut, 1999; Torres Rivas, 1999). In this article I focus on the persistence of military influence in post-

authoritarian and indeed post-Cold War Latin America. After briefly reviewing the historical legacy of so-called 'political armies' in the region as a whole, I offer an assessment of the consequences of this legacy for the current agenda of democratic consolidation in Latin America. Two possible scenarios are examined: that of fairly progressive democratisation and civilianisation of

politics, and that of the re-emergence of violence despite the formal rule of

democracy. In the latter scenario, de facto harsh and violent regimes collide with a growing array of rival perpetrators of political and other forms of organised violence.

Military politics and military projects

It is strange that during the twentieth century, the armed forces in Latin America

have almost never confronted foreign forces in conventional wars. On the

contrary, the Chaco War between Bolivia and Paraguay, the war between El

Salvador and Honduras and perhaps the Falklands/Malvinas War are the three sole examples of conventional wars in the strict sense. The other confrontations were at best limited conflicts, border clashes, or insignificant campaigns. Effectively, the Latin American countries do not have enemies in the sense of

aggressor nations or conquerors. At the start of the present century no one thinks

seriously about large-scale wars between, for example, Brazil and Paraguay, Argentina and Chile, Mexico and Guatemala. On the contrary, for decades, the battles of professional soldiers in Latin America took place almost exclusively in

'internal wars' or 'irregular conflicts', against 'subversive' or 'terrorist' adversaries or guerrilla or insurgent peasant groups.

Effectively, the true significance of the Latin American armed forces is in their

political nature. Latin America is the continent of the political soldiers and

military politicians. During the last two hundred years, a military career has been the most certain path to the presidency of the republic in countries as varied as

Argentina, Bolivia, Brazil, Ecuador, El Salvador, Honduras, Guatemala, Mexico,

410 ? 2001 Society for Latin American Studies



Latin America in the Post-dictatorial Era

Paraguay and Peru. The real significance of the armed forces in Latin America is their political weight. As 'stabilising force', as 'disinterested arbiter', as

'protecting power of the constitution', as 'guardian of national development', the military managed to intervene in political matters with immunity and

impunity. In this intervening capacity, the militaries executed 'stabilising missions' within the political arena. To such a degree that they became designers and executors of 'military projects' within their respective countries. Generals became politicians in uniform, more than the leaders of soldiers (Koonings and

Kruijt, 2002). The concept of the armed forces as 'stabilising institutions' led to two different

inclinations: one which resulted in governments with a reformist character -

dictablandas - and another which ends in hard repression. The governments of Generals Calles and Cardenas in Mexico, Vargas' Estado Novo in Brazil, the Peronista government in Argentina, Velasquismo in Peru and Torrijismo in Panama were examples of reformist military governments. The civil-military dictatorships in Brazil and the Southern Cone in the 1970s and the military and

civil-military governments during the civil wars of Central America were

examples of military governments with open violence and oppression, based on doctrines of 'national security' and 'national stability' (Rouquie, 1989; Silva, 2001; Zagorsky, 1992).

An essential element within these doctrines was the dogmatic position that, in the absence of any other block of stable alliances within civil society, the armed forces took the legitimate and inalienable task of guiding national development. In fact, 'national development' was the spinal column of the military projects conceived with their own profound mysticism (Hayes, 1989). The Brazilian

example studied by Hayes demonstrates how the relationship of the military elite towards the nation can result in the legitimisation of long interventions, even of national reconstruction. The superiority of the militaries and the civil-military dictatorships of the recent past was explained and predicted by the arguments of

'military intellectuals', military officers in key functions within the sensitive areas of personnel, presumably logistics and above all of intelligence and of training programs for colonels and generals. It is here that the various theories of national

security and doctrines on the desired destiny of the nation and the privileged role reserved for the military were developed. In its self-proclaimed capacity of

therapist of the nation's traumas and the nation's natural guardians the sense of moral superiority was cultivated outside of and separated from the society of civilians.

Eventually, the military leaders came to be responsible for leading a sacred mission; of saving the nation from the destructive activities of 'civil chaos' by restructuring the economic, social and political order. Much of the behaviour of the civil-military governments of Argentina, Brazil, Chile, or Guatemala, can be

analysed by examining the uniformed politicians and their eagerness to lead a 'national project' within which the armed forces acted as a 'quasi-party' (Stepan, 1971). In these countries the armed forces were not the only political force. Nonetheless, they acted as the indispensable actor within a collection of allied

? 2001 Society for Latin American Studies 411



Dirk Kruijt

sectors and business associations. In those countries, the 'strong right' transferred the political leadership to the hands of the military, organised as they were within

political society. The revolutionary governments of Mexico and Peru formed the alternative

models of civil-military alliance. The parties established by Calles and Cardenas as 'institutional successors of the revolution' incorporated sectors such as

business, labour, peasants and the military. Cardenas explicitly diminished the influence of the 'military sector' within the PRI. However, when the presidency came to be transferred from generals to scholars in the 1950s, the PRI still continued to maintain an authoritarian and exclusionary style (Garrido, 1982). In

Peru, the 'Revolutionary Governments of the Armed Forces' (1968-1975) the

military stressed the nexus between the armed forces and the popular sectors. In its anti-oligarchic ide logy the regime led by General Velasco excluded the economic elite in favc lr of the labour unions and the political parties of the centre and left (Kruijt, 1994).

Democratisation in recent decades did end but in some ways modified projects of political militarism. Schirmer, an analyst of the military projects in Guatemala,

typified the attitude of moral superiority and the educational mission as 'military fundamentalism' (Schirmer, 1998: 248). 'Ethical education' would provide democratic criteria to the soldiers who, guided by the ethical values of the

military doctrines 'would at least know who and why they were killing'. Officers trained as such would act as the 'ethical reserve of the nation'. The slow

synchronisation of the armed forces with the democratic process in Guatemala coincided - as was the opinion of Arevalo (1998) and Rosada-Granados (1999) -

with the modernisation of the national military project: the controlled transition to an 'armoured democracy', under the auspices of the armed forces. It is not

surprising that the Guatemalan military factions opened the Centro ESTNA

(Centre for Strategic Studies for National Stability) only at the end of the 1980s. It was created by the minister of National Defence in office at the time, General Hector Gramajo, author of the 'thesis of national stability', used for training military squads and civilians in the 'correct' interpretation of national reality. The Centro ESTNA tried to explicitly cultivate a new civilian and military elite:

intelligence officers, presidential advisors, members of the National Congress, ambassadors, representatives of the national labour unions, religious leaders,

representatives of the Mayan people and journalists. It is equally unsurprising that in two other countries with a marked military

presence in civil-military governments during the past three or four decades, Brazil and Peru, centres of higher civil-military studies were also created, where

military intellectuals had the opportunity to think, write and train new

generations of military and bureaucratic elites in the country. In Peru, the CAEM (Centre for Higher Military Studies) trained colonels and generals of the armed forces and police, and several years later, also trained directors in the

public sector and ministerial advisors in matters of military doctrines and national development. The nationalist, anti-oligarchic, anti-imperialist tint, also

inspired by the concepts launched by the CEPAL - geopolitical and development





concepts elaborated by a group consisting of intelligence officers, was directly reflected in the government programs of Revolutionary Military Governments in

the 1960s and 1970s (Kruijt, 1994). In Brazil, the conceptual basis of the theory of

national security and the doctrines of national development were developed in

the ESG (Superior War College), the centre of geopolitical studies for colonels

and generals where representatives of the public and private sector also received

training in military and development strategy. From the 1950s until the 1980s the

ESG offered courses in political, sociological and psychological issues, logistics and mobilisation, intelligence and security, planning and development, and

regional economics to military personnel, technocrats and businessmen. ESG

alumni played a key role in staging the 1964 coup and in staffing the subsequent civil-military governments (Alves, 1985; Stepan, 1971).

Military presence and low intensity democracies

During the process of re-democratisation in Latin America, the popularity as well as the political significance of the civil-military schools mentioned above diminished. However, in the 1990s, when the dual process of withdrawal of the

civil-military governments and the strengthening of national democracies was

consolidated, the military presence which had manifested itself in the past, now demonstrated itself in the form of a shadow presence, through the 'compulsory military advisors' and 'civil-military ties' between the public sector, the

intelligence service and the leadership of the generals. Although the military officially withdrew from the public stage, their presence behind the scenes would

guarantee the ambiguous prolongation of their influence. In retrospect, part of their prolonged presence can be explained by the military faction's active

vigilance of the negotiated institutional withdrawal. Another factor has, without a doubt, been the fear of certain ex-dictators and their junta, class or government colleagues of having to face trial by civilian authorities whom they could no

longer control. The result in the countries like Argentina, Brazil, Chile and Guatemala was that, at least during the years of transition, a type of guided democracy was produced, a democracy of low intensity.

The masked military presence was able to continue through its skilful use of four factors of power: the military's control over the system of intelligence, the

predominance of the military over the police forces, the military tasks of local and regional development in remote areas, and the legal basis of military immunity and impunity. Of the four factors, the control over military intelligence has perhaps been the most important.

The 'internal wars' and the 'battles against internal terrorism' in Latin America coincided for the most part with heavy-handed civil-military govern? ments. The instrument of power par excellence of these governments was their

array of parallel services: military intelligence, the security bodies, the police and

para-police bodies and the para-military groups. As brain and spinal column of the counter-insurgency and counter-terrorism battle, the intelligence and security




Dirk Kruijt

systems expanded to such a degree that their official and unofficial ties became difficult to distinguish. Military and civilian intelligence, almost always unified under the orders of the Ministry of Defence, was directed against 'internal enemies' within the national territory. Whenever a dialogue was set up with internal adversaries, as was the case in Colombia, or peace accords were made like in Central America, negotiations revolved more around the withdrawal of the civil-military governments and the reduction of the armed forces than the reform of the intelligence system (Arnson, 1999; Vickers, 1999). The same occurred in the case of the repressive civil-military governments of the Southern Cone. The medium-range consequences have been that, for years after the transference from de facto governments to governments legitimised by elections, the presidents of Brazil, Chile and Guatemala remained the ideological hostages of their 'intelligence advisors'. The first post-military governments of Brazil, the first Chilean post-Pinochet president, and a consecutive chain of civilian

presidents in Guatemala after the democratic transition in 1985 all found themselves in an uncomfortable relationship with imposed advisors in the field of

security and national development. The military predominance over the police forces was expressed through

nominations of ex-military personnel as chief of the national police corps or of

(retired) generals as Minister of the Government or the Interior. Generally - as was the case in Guatemala and Honduras until recently - the police depended on the military intelligence's analysis and did not have investigative capacities in criminal or forensic issues. Another legacy of the heavy-handed regimes was the interrelation with paramilitary forces, vigilantism, and death squads.

Another factor of permanence in power is the fact that in the majority of the Latin American countries, the armed forces - generally the Army, but sometimes the Navy as well - act as the sole representative of the public sector and the state in remote and under-developed regions, with military doctors, nurses, dentists, veterinarians, engineers, lawyers, and administrators. The connection between

military and civilian functions in remote or depressed areas is reinforced by a 'traditional' military mission of local development, programs of 'civic action' executed by the armed forces for the local population, originally conceived as instruments for the prevention of war and for counter-insurgency (Barber and

Ronning, 1966).

Special legislation and the easy delegation of judicial processes to the military justice system favours the practice of relative immunity in Brazil, Colombia, El

Salvador, Honduras, Peru and other countries. The custom of utilising the system of 'faceless judges' and utilising the anti-subversive legislation in Colombia and Peru supports the fearlessness of the military in regard to the past or present violation of human rights. The existence of military courts in matters which are

purely civilian emphasises the relative military privilege in terms of current and common justice.

2 During the Cold War, the United States also supported activities of 'political cleansing'. For case studies, in Brazil in particular, see Huggins (1998).





The presence of the military felt in the political context contributes directly to

the persistence of low intensity democracies. These are democracies whose citizens are guarded, whose politicians are advised, whose legislators are timid and whose judges are fearful. They have mistrusted government leaders and

presidents who are afraid. These are democracies whose democratic institutions

(civilian governments, political parties, parliaments, and independent judiciaries) and civil society (business associations, the labour movement, popular associations and the NGO circuit) appear to be suspended in a state of

'permanent adolescence', which apparently provokes the external vigilance of the corrective institutions: the threat of the heavy hand of the military national educators. These are democracies whose members are afraid of the irritated voice of the retired generals. Where does the responsibility lie? Does a low

intensity democracy lead to an out-of-control military? Or is the out-of-control

military the factor that results in a weak democracy of frightened citizens?

(PNUD et al., 1999: 4-29.) Which political course will Latin America take? Listening to the discourse of

retired military personnel in Brazil3 and Chile, the argument of the military protagonists of the coups in the 1960s and 1970s is repeated: underdevelopment, dependence, disinterested and cynical elites, chaotic politics, strikes, foreign agitation, precarious education and weak civilian government. Threats and

attempts at coups emerged with a certain regularity during the 1990s (Koonings and Kruijt, 2002). In Argentina and Venezuela coup attempts were made at the

beginning of that decade. The Brazilian and Chilean militaries publicly manifested their discontent about issues such as constitutional reforms, labour

policies or human rights. In Peru a 'self-imposed' coup was produced in by the civilian president, Alberto Fujimori in 1992, directly supported by the armed forces. In 1993 a similar attempt by the Guatemala's civilian president Serrano failed. The armed forces had to settle for Congress' nomination of the attorney for human rights for president. In Venezuela the (ex-) military officer and failed

coup leader Hugo Chavez was elected president. In Bolivia, Hugo Banzer, the ex- dictator returned as president, this time by means of free and democratic elections. In December 1999, after the presidential elections, his colleague and former dictator Rios Montt saw himself inaugurated as president of the

Congress. Recent incidents in Ecuador and Paraguay seem to confirm the continuity of

the military involvement in national political issues. In 1996 in Paraguay there a

coup against President Wasmosy was attempted, instigated by General Lino Oviedo, who - as a lieutenant - had personally removed the old dictator Stroessner from the presidential palace. In March and August of 1999 Lino Oviedo was associated with two new coup attempts. In Ecuador in the mid- nineties the military was turned to when Parliament, threatened by a constitutional conflict, declared the President inept. Towards the end of 1999,

See for example Ibiapiana Lima (1999). General Ibiapiana was president of the Clube Militar in Brazil in 1999.

) 2001 Society for Latin American Studies 415



Dirk Kruijt

the Chief of the Joint Command of the Armed Forces publicly expressed the

military discontent with the presidential leadership. In January 2000, this was followed by a declaration by the Joint Command supporting the demands of the

indigenous population. This appeared to be a repetition of the 'Revolutionary Governments of the Armed Forces' of Velasco in Peru and Torrijos in Panama.

Nonetheless, after several days of great political confusion, the precarious situation was resolved by the president's resignation and the constitutional

inauguration of the vice-president. Military spending in Latin America was reduced at an annual rate of 3 per cent

between 1984 and 1994. During the same period, the proportion of armed forces

personnel to the total population came down at an average annual rate of 5 per cent. This reduction was accompanied by a decline in military influence in

strategic economic sectors such as mining, telecommunications and energy. Only the armed forces of Colombia, Chili and Ecuador were able to maintain direct access to the public treasury: in Colombia, a special tax was imposed for the war on drugs, the Chilean armed forces continue to receive 10 per cent of copper sales, and the Ecuadorian military can still count on 15 per cent of the sales of the nation's crude oil (Downes, 1998: 17). The armed forces in Honduras have built

up a powerful economic influence: their powerful treasury of pension funds. This was to such a degree that early in the 1990s, they bought part of the national

industry when the government decided to sell state-owned companies. Cabinet members in those years commented that the successive ministers of Defence dedicated more time to the economy of the military companies than to strictly military matters.

In the final analysis, it seems as though there can be two possible paths for

civic-military relations in the late 1990s and possibly into the present decade. The first is the path of further consolidation of the transition to democracy, the second is by way of a new agenda, that of the dictatorial neo-populism in which, with the support of the armed forces, the civilian presidents govern under the formal vigilance of degraded parliaments. It appears that the latter path has been followed by Peru (at least until the recent downfall of Fujimori) and Venezuela. Colombia is a case apart. The majority of the Latin American countries seem to have opted for the first path. In the following two sections, I will discuss those two paths in greater detail.

Path I: Democratic consolidation

Without doubt, in countries like Argentina, Brazil, Chile, El Salvador, Honduras, Mexico, Nicaragua and Panama, a considerable reduction in the military power and presence in matters of national politics can be observed.

Author's interview with Alonso Valenzuela, Ministerial Advisor to the President on 5 October 1993.





Almost immediately after his inauguration as President of Argentina, Alfonsin, the country's first civilian president after six years of military dictatorship took measures towards the political demobilisation of the armed forces (Pion-Berlin, 1989; Tedesco, 1996; Garcia, 1995; McSherry, 1997). He immediately annulled the law of self-declared amnesty for the period between 1973 and 1982,

pronounced by the last junta before its withdrawal. Moreover, the ex-presidents and former junta members of civil-military governments were accused and condemned by civilian tribunals. Nevertheless, Alfonsin found himself

retroactively obliged to come to an agreement with the armed forces. Confronted with several military rebellions, he eventually pardoned the mid-level officers accused of human rights violations.

Brazil passed through a phase of gradual transference of military power to the civilian regimes, finalised during the Cardoso governments. The first post- military president, Sarney, still allowed himself to be strongly guided by his five

military ministers (Koonings, 1999). His successor, Collor, considerably reduced the influence of the intelligence services. The Brazilian transition was much more

negotiated than that of Argentina: in that country, the military government had to depart from the political scene after losing the Falklands/Malvinas War.

Nonetheless, Brazilian democracy, implemented and rooting itself not only at the federal level, but also at the level of the states and above all at the municipal and

neighbourhood level, gradually reduced the military influence to the level of a

'paper tiger' compared to the preceding decades (Hunter, 1997: 23). Hunter

(1997) and Castro (2002) offer examples of the erosion of influence: losing initiatives during budget negotiations, reductions in spending and in military

programs, the political distance of the military during the impeachment process of Collor, the creation of a Committee for Disappeared Persons, or the sobriety after the changes made to the public military celebrations. The result having

perhaps the greatest impact was the creation of a Ministry of Defence under civilian command, eliminating the presence of five military ministers in the

Cabinet, allowing the function of Joint Command to disappear and channelling the State intelligence system into a civilian agency: the Office of Institutional

Security. The military make-over, accompanied by the departure of high-ranking officers, provoked inconsequential public disapproval among retired officers

early in 2000. The serving officers received an increase in salary. Chile is also a case of 'controlled departure' (Constable and Valenzuela,

1991; Drake and Jaksic, 1995; Silva, 1999; Aguero, 2002). The democratic

governments that followed the referendum which ended the political project of Pinochet nevertheless had to coexist with the same ex-dictator, with the National Security Council whose military members had the same power of vote as the president, and with other institutional and political allies of previous civil-military government. Chile returned to democracy with an 'institutional

package' of links and interrelations with the military: appointed life-long senators, an electoral system which considerably favoured the allies of the

General, and very elaborate requirements for a constitutional change which would eliminate those ties. Additionally, the military institution was well




Dirk Kruijt

protected by an organic law impeding the president from freely nominating or

removing the military leadership (Agiiero, 2002). In retrospect, much of Pinochet's legislation for regulating the slow transition can be interpreted as

self-protective. In Central America and Mexico the military weight has reduced considerably.

In Mexico, the armed forces have found themselves excluded from the political arena since the days of President General Cardenas. As Benitez observes, just as the popular Mexican saying goes, there are only three untouchable institutions: the President, the Virgin of Guadalupe and the Army. Reciprocally, the president has respect for the military institution, which in turn respect the 'cape and sword of that civilian power' in a tacit pact (Benitez Manaut, 2000). However, with the rise of the Zapatista guerrilla movement in Chiapas in 1994, military spending has increased sharply, and the military has made its presence in public more visible: a type of 're-militarisation' through the occupation of high positions in

public security organs and in anti-narcotics missions and missions against armed movements (Benitez Manaut, 1996). However, the Mexican army has always been considered to be the armed branch of the party until recently in power, the PRI. Its military experience is in two areas: counter-insurgency operations, principally against rural guerrilla movements in the states of Guerrero (in the 1960s and 1970s) and in Chiapas (currently), and in emergency operations and natural disaster relief. Real signs of a re-politicising of the Mexican armed forces have not been manifest

The 1990s in Central America generally showed a demilitarisation paired with a re-democratisation of the countries in the isthmus. Through a popular vote, Panama followed Costa Rica's example, untying itself from the armed institution and entrusting public order and security to a civilian body. Nicaragua followed this tendency despite the initial resistance of the Sandinista Army to

substantially reducing its officer corps, equipment and the number of soldiers in active service. The struggle for power between President Chamorro and the command of the armed forces resulted in the strengthening of the civil

government. A civil police force has been formed (Caudra Lira, 1998; Cuadra

Lira, Perez Baltadano and Saldomando, 1998; Policia Nacional de la Repiiblica de Nicaragua, 1999). The decade of the 1990s has been beneficial for the

development of democracy in Honduras as well. Despite the economic weight of the armed forces within Honduran society, a military accommodation to

democracy could be observed starting in the 1980s. In January 1999, the first civilian Minister of Defence was nominated. This nomination finalised a decade of 'normalisation' through three civilian presidents (Callejas, Reina and Flores), of demilitarisation of the public sector, of the abolition of compulsory military service and a return to civilian control over all of the police forces (Salomon, 1999). In post-war El Salvador various reforms were launched: the restructuring of the armed forces and the parallel reduction of the numbers in the officer and soldier ranks, and the creation of a new police force. The process is supported by the international community and by the United Nations. Spain offered notable bilateral technical assistance.





Post-war Guatemala is entering into a similar process of strengthening civilian control. Since 1985, the country has passed through three complicated, parallel processes: first, the transfer from a dictatorial government to a democracy, that was closely watched by the military; second, the transition from 36 years of civil war to a period of peace; third, the integration - timid and slow for the moment -

of the ethnic groups excluded and repressed throughout the greater part of the twentieth century. To date the military presence continues to be strong, though slowly diminishing (Arevalo, 1998; Arevalo, Rojas and Sojo, 1998; Schirmer, 2002). Not much reduction in the officer corps or restructuring of the intelligence service has been achieved, matters that were agreed upon in the peace accords. The guerrillas of the civil war were disarmed and the self-defence patrols whose members - almost exclusively indigenous people - were estimated to be 1.3

million, were dismantled (Remijnse, this volume). The military budget did not suffer from low levels of resources. The intelligence service was able to take

charge of three new tasks. Faced with an increase in 'common violence' in the first years following the end of the war and the slow deployment a new police force trained by the international co-operation from Spain, both the armed forces and the intelligence service managed to take charge of civil security tasks. 'Combined Forces' patrolled in the rural areas and urban centres.

In 1999, the 'NO' movement - 'NO' to a combined proposal of the peace accords and other administrative changes - was able to secure a rejection in the referendum organised at the last moment by President Arzii had organised to

ratify the accords. The dismantling of the Estado Mayor Presidencial, an

'obligatory' organ of advisors organised by the armed forces and the intelligence service, which was previously announced was halted. Portillo, the current

president, assumed the presidency sending nineteen generals into retirement. At the time of writing (June 2001) it is too early to judge whether this government will acquire a decisive autonomy in relation to the Guatemalan military. A

comparison with the Brazilian case could be fruitful. The peace process in Guatemala was also accompanied by the United Nations

and neighbouring countries. The United Nations actively participated in the

peace negotiations (Zelaya, Noriega, Arnault, Salazar Tetzagiiic, Urizar and

Ortiz, 1999). The United Nations was, like in Nicaragua and El Salvador,

charged with monitoring and verifying the accords. They sent peacekeeping forces to all three countries, compounded by contingents from the member countries. Their forces in Guatemala were channelled by MINUGUA, a

monitoring and verification entity, which continued to function after peace was reached. The Guatemalan police were also reorganised with the support of international co-operation from Spain (Byrne, Stanley and Garst, 2000; Glebbeek, this volume).

Regarding the popular consultation in Guatemala and its consequences, and about the role of the various social actors - the Armed Forces and the private sector - see Arnson, Azpuru, Cojti, Rios, Arevalo and Torres-Rivas (1999).




Dirk Kruijt

In Guatemala, but in other countries in Central America as-well, the process of

peace and transition from de facto regimes to democratically elected governments has been accompanied by a slow strengthening of civil society. The Assembly of the Civil Society in Guatemala, supported by the Archbishop, took on a certain degree of strength as a 'parallel parliament' during the last years of the peace negotiations. Central America was surprised and perhaps even invaded by a countless number of NGOs after peace was reached and the political transitions were made (Biekart, 1999; Van der Borgh, 1997; 1999; Lehmann and Bebbington, 1998; Smith, 1995;

Vellinga, 1998). However, as Crespo (1995: 20) maintains, the democratic institutions like parliament and the political parties also passed through a learning process. In some countries - like El Salvador - a shift towards the centre of the orientation of previously more radically right- and left-wing political parties can be observed. State policies of intervening in social problems appears to have taken effect in the sense of mitigating the effects of the extreme poverty and contributing to a more transparent governability (Sojo, 1998; 1999; Rojas and Sojo, 1995).

Path II: New models of tough governments

Here we mention two examples of countries that went through a different path socio-political transformation: Colombia and Peru. Venezuela under the

presidency of Hugo Chavez follows many of the tendencies that could be detected in Fujimori's Peru. For reasons of clarity, I prefer to compare Colombia and Peru in this section.6

Colombia has, at first sight, a formally intact government, with progressive legislation, free elections, advanced decentralisation of public administration and local capacity for planning and execution. An ample and not completely disorganised civil society strengthens these local capacities. There has already been a civilian minister of Defence during the two most recent government terms.

Nonetheless, the daily violence in the country is so widespread and 'normal' that death and terror are beginning to accompany the country's daily life. It is estimated that the number of victims murdered between 1980 and 1995 surpassed 300,000 (Pecaut, 1999; Betancourt and Garcia, 1994; Guerrero, 1991; Lara, 1991; Salazar, 1993a; 1993b; Salazar and Jaramillo, 1992). A full array of armed actors contribute to this 'society of fear': the armed forces, the various guerrilla groups, the paramilitaries, the para-police forces and the private police, death squads, the narcotics traffickers' armed gangs, the contingents of 'common criminality', the

youth sicarios (professional assassins), and so forth. They tend toward activities

accompanied by the use of violence so extreme that Pecaut (1999: 141) introduced the concept of the 'banality of violence.' Of course, Colombia enjoys a democratic government, but - what real significance does democracy have if the local and national government are unable to control the armed actors who

regulate the indiscriminate use of violence against the Colombian citizens?

6 I Leave aside the situation in the Caribbean. For a recent analysis, see Lozano (1998).





On the other hand, in Peru there are actors controlled by the national

government who dish out a type of low intensity violence, sometimes with

ostentatious force, but normally with subtle application (Kruijt and Tello, 2002;

Youngers, 2000; Cameron, 2000; Mauceri, 2000; Palmer, 2000). In a sense, the

political decade of the 1990s in Peru is the product of a process of disintegration from the 1980s. The combined effects of hyperinflation, the impoverishment and social exclusion of great masses of the indigenous and urban population, and the civil war, which was basically against the guerrilla forces of Shining Path, contributed to the surprising election of a political neophyte in 1990, Alberto

Fujimori. Fujimori, formed by a difficult childhood in the popular neighbourhoods in the centre of Lima, presented himself as a 'true representative of the poor and excluded: someone like you.' He mustered only minority support minority in parliament but wielding a manifest aptitude for pragmatism, he

quickly found himself unscrupulous allies and advisors, of whom the ex-captain of the armed forces and former lawyer of narcotics traffickers Vladimiro Montesinos became the most notorious. Montesinos attained the position of advisor in matters of security and counter-insurgency. Since 1990 he occupied the

position of President of the Strategic Council of State and he directly controlled the Intelligence System (SIN).7 Owing to a systematic policy of co-opting 'soft' officers and discharging 'institutionalist officers', Fujimori and Montesinos were able to rapidly gain control of the military top of the three branches of the armed forces.

After the nomination of a trusted general, Hermoza, a type of trinity was

formed, composed of Fujimori, Montesinos and Hermoza, which controlled all matters of state between 1991 and 1998. Starting in 1998, Fujimori, assisted in the shadows by his advisor in security and intelligence matters, began to behave more overtly as a 'civilian dictator', leaning more and more directly on the armed forces and the intelligence and security agencies. He enjoyed the docility of

parliament, controlled the popular associations, and almost openly using fraudulent methods to manipulate public opinion and elections.

Fujimori would not have been able to come that far without considerable

popularity, which he enjoyed during most of his first and the first years of his second presidential terms. His popularity reached its peak in 1992, when he launched a self-imposed coup in April openly supported by the armed forces. That was when Fujimori's cabinet, without the consultation of the international

Sistema de Inteligencia, which pertains to the army, navy, air force, police forces and associated paramilitary groups' intelligence services. Also using the special counter-insurgency legislation, of which the Ley de la situacion militar (1991) (Law of the Military Situation) became the most important. Fujimori was able to make use of the new presidential right to nominate and remove any high- ranking officer. The law also offered the possibility that commanding officers could continue to be officers in active service despite having reached the retirement age. It even enabled the President to nominate General Hermoza and keep him in his position as commander of the army. In a conflict between Montesinos and Hermoza in 1998, the general was discharged.




Dirk Kruijt

financial community and in full criollo style, ended the hyperinflation phenomenon, although at the cost of impoverishing large parts of the working class and urban middle class. Just a few months later, Abimael Giizman, the feared leader of Shining Path, was captured. From that moment on, the guerrilla movement started to disintegrate (Tapia, 1997).10 The president's popularity was immense: around 80 per cent of the population supported Fujimori, and it was

only under international pressure that he called for elections for a Constituent

Congress. Winning elections is something like obtaining a medium-term electoral loan. Nevertheless, Fujimori began to consider his electoral victories to be like

part of his personal patrimony. After winning the parliamentary elections of 1992 - by a small margin - and the presidential elections of 1995 - with an ample majority of 64 per cent - he began to use the armed forces as the right hand and the SIN as the left hand of the regime.

The mechanisms of control during the Fujimori regime were based on five axes: control over the armed forces; control over the security and intelligence services; control over the programs to fight poverty; control over the judicial system; and control over the media of mass communications. Let us look at each of these in turn.

Control over the armed forces was not established without protest. In 1993, there was a group of officers who tried to mount a 'constitutional counter-coup'. Needless to say, the attempt failed and the leaders were arrested. Officers in the

opposition supplied the press with clandestine reports on Fujimori. Photocopies of documents alluding to death squad activities with links to Montesinos were facilitated to politicians, journalists and investigators.11 Anonymous letters continued to circulate in Lima. Within the army, opposition groups began to form among captains, majors and lieutenant-colonels (Obando, 2000: 309). Nevertheless, the president maintained a free hand in military matters: the

counter-insurgent legislation of the first years of the war was preserved, and

congressional control over military spending and the defence budget was legally absent. Ultimately it was the president who commanded, not the generals. As a

result, submissive behaviour of senior officers became commonplace.

10 The remains of the movement would continue their fight in the form of regional bands. The leader succeeding Guzman, Feliciano, was captured in June 1999 (See In Huancayo, 1999). During the counter-insurgency operations, the armed forces utilised the services of the rondas campesinas, the rural self-defence committees. The number of members in the rondas between 1900 and 1994 rose from 50,000 to 400,000. Also see Starn (1999) and Stern (1998). See also Fumerton in this volume.

11 The presence of death squads within the SIN at the time of killings, one in Barrios Altos, a place close to the Presidential Palace, and another at the La Cantuta Pedagogic University in the suburbs of Lima, were made public by General Robles, who afterward had to seek political asylum outside of Peru.

12 Like General Howard Rodriguez, commander of Military Region I, on the border with Ecuador, who to the public's surprise appeared on television distributing calendars with the photograph of the president in secondary schools in Piura. Fujimori praised the general.





The SIN, a modest service until the end of the 1980s, expanded rapidly under the command of Montesinos. From the time of Giizman's capture in 1992, the core activities of the intelligence system started to be - parallel to the monitoring of insurgent people and movements - scrutinising opposition politicians and members of social institutions: journalists, academics, officers of the armed

forces, owners of mass communication media, leaders of the labour movement, and so forth. Fujimori acquired the habit of nominating (former) members of the

security and intelligence community to key posts: to the cabinet, the presidency of

Congress, or the constitutional and electoral courts. Within or around the SIN, entities of coercion and death squads were formed alongside the activities of

investigation and intelligence. As in Eastern Europe during the decades of communist rule, a complicated and extensive web formed, consisting of

informants, squealers, small traitors and extortionists. The public sector was watched intensely, in part by officials of the SIN, in part by guards and colleague- informants, The 'self-defence committees' and the rondas campesinas offered information in the rural areas. The local and regional development committees, the transitory rural committees, the rural funds, and even the rural NGOs offered services.13 The 'mothers' clubs' and the 'milk committees' in the shantytowns of Lima and other urban centres gave information on suspect subjects regularly, And of course the services of the 'repenters' could always be utilised: the 5,000 ex-guerrilleros of Shining Path, who had turned themselves and their weapons in to the authorities and were awarded conditional freedom, remaining available for

'special services'.14 At the level of the popular organisations, it can be said that the trade union

confederations effectively disappeared in the 1980s and 1990s. During the 1970s

they had considerable political weight, but after the onset of the economic crisis at the end of the 1970s, whose effects can be felt until this very day, a large part of the national economy came to be affected by informality. Like no other country in Latin America, informalisation transformed the economic and social

panorama. During the 1990s it was estimated that 64 per cent of Lima's

economically active population survived in the informal economy. All of the

poverty and exclusion indicators between 1985 and 1995 oscillated between 50 and 55 per cent. The real salary within the private sector dropped from an index level of 100 in 1985 to 59 in 1995. The percentage of underemployed people within the economically active population of Lima was estimated to be higher than 80 per cent. Two-thirds of the elderly population survived without the benefit of any kind of social security (Figueroa, Altamirano and Sulmont, 1996; Figueroa, 2000). Social programs set up by the government and international donors provided the income and daily food for 30 to 40 per cent of the Peruvian

13 Palmer (2000: 9-10), who did fieldwork in Ayacucho, the initial Shining Path region, comments that almost all of the local NGOs maintained ties with the central government in the capital.

14 So called by the Ley de arrepentimiento (Law of Repentance) of May 1992; see Tapia (1997: 80-81).




Dirk Kruijt

population. Work in the public and private sectors was generally temporary, on contracts of 60-90 days. Having work was receiving a favour. Work and income were never secure. The programs to fight poverty served a double objective: food

supplies in exchange for information about friends and neighbours, and cashing in on votes during elections. Work and income were paid with loyalty, information, votes and obedience.

Control over the justice system was also facilitated by the anti-subversive

legislation. The laws of counter-insurgency from the early 1990s made possible the transfer of 'terrorist' and 'subversive' cases to the jurisdiction of the military courts. The introduction - in Colombian style - of the anonymous tribunals also became an accepted measure with the institution of the 'faceless judges' functioning between 1992 and 1997.15 The intimidation of independent judges, the intervention of the SIN, the factual impunity of the generals of the armed

forces, the commandants of the death squads, some narcotics traffickers and

government advisors were all highly criticised by foreign observers.16 News reports which were not complacent to official government opinion were

reason to intervene in Channel Two Television, a private station whose owner -

Ivcher - had permitted the transmission of the programme Contrapunto, which revealed the surprisingly high incomes of Montesinos and previously had broadcast information on telephone spying during the presidential elections of 1995 and several cases of torture and killings by members of the SIN.17

Newspapers and weekly magazines which were too critical received special messages.18 Large segments of the press, radio and television were characterised

by high levels of self-censorship. It is interesting to reflect upon the logic of the Peruvian model and perhaps the

Venezuelan model, and on the possibilities of those being imitated and adapted. One of the central axes is the leadership of presidents who are highly authoritarian and immensely inclined toward merciless pragmatism. The

presidential popularity, true or manipulated, has its base in among other things the populist relationship with the poor, the popular masses, and those excluded

15 Of these, the member of the Supreme Court, Dr. Carlos Jiusti commented in an interview with the author: 'When you start with the faceless judges, you enter a faceless justice all of a sudden. And when you systematically transfer sensitive cases to the military tribunals, you start to legalise torture and human rights violations.' Dr. Jiusti was one of the of the Tupac Amaru Revolutionary Movement's hostages during the capture of the Japanese ambassador's residence in December 1996. He was the only civilian who died during the liberation of the hostages by a special commando of the armed forces.

16 Among others by Amnesty International and Americas Watch. See also Comision Andina de Juristas (1999, 2000).

17 See Mauceri (2000: 6-8). Ivcher lost his citizenship and his property and afterwards, Channel Two was transferred to the Joint Command. Until his downfall, the channel was the mouthpiece of the Fujimori and the Armed Forces.

18 The weekly Si, that was very critical during the 1980s and the early 1990s, was silenced after the violation of the owner's pre-adolescent daughter, apparently by two SIN officials.





from society. The distrust of these categories toward the legal and parliamentary institutions was fed by the repeated presidential arguments stating the

'corruption of the other politicians' the 'obstacles of existing legislation' and the 'incompetence and ineptitude of the magistrates.' In this way, the president legitimised his disregard for laws, rules and procedures and was inclined to restrict parliament's legislative capacity and the operative capacity of the public sector. Another axis was the submission of the armed forces whose institutions allowed themselves to be remodelled into a type of 'executive service' of the

president, assuming tasks of executing development and political propaganda projects in the president's service. An internal system of co-optation within the armed forces served as compensation. A great deal of freedom was granted at the

highest level to enrich itself. Poverty alleviation and local development programs were utilised to guarantee the minimal degree of presidential popularity among the electorate. They also helped create a system of political clientelism and establish a mechanism of control and local information. In the meantime, a vacuum was created in the shadows so that security and intelligence services could operate with great freedom as the hidden police and judge of the regime. The judicial system had to be moulded and restricted in its autonomy. In sensitive

cases, a transfer to military justice facilitated the desired outcome. Control or

self-censorship of the mass communication media complemented the model of domination.

By way of conclusion: priorities in the post-dictatorial era

A consolidated and sustainable democracy is based on law and order, economic, social and political stability, the proper functioning of key public institutions, and respect for public opinion. It is obvious that the civil-military regimes that

fought internal opponents as 'enemies of national security' in the end turned into the very enemy of such principles. They created 'societies of fear' (Koonings and

Kruijt, 1999). In order to avoid this, and to advance instead toward the consolidation of democratic governance and the rule of law, elected civilian

governments need to take on a firm stance with respect to their military, security forces, police entities, intelligence services, as well as with regard to the armed actors that operate outside of the legitimate domain of state-controlled coercion. Here I restrict myself to discussing possible policies directed at the armed forces

(Kruijt, 2000). A clear definition of the mission of the armed forces must be based on a

distinction between core tasks and self-attributed roles. As I noted above, Latin American nations do not have external enemies and a sudden explosion of external war or internal conflict seems unlikely. Similarly the emergence of a new

generation of guerrilleros looks like a remote possibility. On the other hand, the

problem of second-class citizenship that is related to the problem of mass poverty and social exclusion may increase the likelihood of social and particularly ethnic conflict. The most noteworthy armed insurrections of the 1990s: Shining Path in




Dirk Kruijt

Peru, the Guatemalan guerrilla, and the Chiapas uprising, have clear ethnic connotations. The cocktail of explosive ingredients formed by poverty, exclusion, frustration and hatred have led to the self-attribution of a permanent tutelary role

by the military in important countries in other parts of the world, such as Algeria, Indonesia, Nigeria, Pakistan and Turkey.19

To avoid this pitfall, Latin America's democracies need to strike a balance between the civil order and the military institution on the basis of a clear civil

supremacy and military subordination. Policies related to national development, poverty alleviation, and public services are civil concerns. Without a well- established civil public sector and civil police and judiciary institutions, the

problem of heavy-handed military interventionism will not disappear. The creation of armed forces that obey the principle of a-political neutrality requires the redefinition of military missions toward strict external defence matters and to train and indoctrinate the military accordingly. Vague mission statements

referring to the 'protection of national interests' or 'objectives' are an open invitation to intervention and should be removed from constitutional texts. These mission statements tacitly reproduce the notion of civil incompetence in times of crisis so that only the generals can be the final judge and arbiter of national

destiny. Other areas in need of reform are the practices of de facto military immunity and impunity, economic and financial prerogatives for military men and the military as institution, military intelligence geared towards non-military objectives, and military involvement in the preservation of public order and the rule of law. The latter not only escape the military mandate and competence, but also tend to contribute to the preservation of a negative image of the armed forces as a repressive instrument. Similarly, the involvement in anti-narcotics

operations, local level development, or environmental control are not typical tasks for armed forces but rather for well-equipped and prepared civil public agencies.

In fact the only new valid and even dignified role for Latin American armed forces may be in the domain of international peace-keeping and conflict resolution under the auspices of the United Nations. This may have the additional benefit of reducing the marked dependence of the Latin American

armed forces on US influence. But would such a new objective warrant significant national financial and operational efforts, given the huge amounts of unfilled social needs in the region?

The basic problem seems to be in the final instance the strengthening of civil

society together with a practice of 'good governance' by a competent public sector, supervised by a respected parliament and an efficient and independent judiciary. In my view, these would be the prerequisites not only of keeping the

military away from politics, but also to address the probably far more difficult and more urgent task of strengthening development, alleviating poverty, guaranteeing human security, the rule of law, and human rights, and ending long-standing patterns of social exclusion. To make headway in terms of social

19 See the various contributions in Koonings and Kruijt (2002).





progress will in the end fortify the conditions for stable politics and legitimate civilian rule, so that military hegemony in national politics may become a thing of the past.

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2001, dirk kruijt, low intensity democracies, latin america in the post-dictatorial era

Documents

postcold war latin america

civil military regimes

civilmilitary regimes

repressive military

civil society

jstor terms

jstor archive

organised political