III. Towards the New Society: The Two Fundamental Questions

We are now witnessing the disappearance forever of Latin America’s traditional "consistency". An attempt has been made in the foregoing pages to outline the main factors which have determined this momentous change — momentous, as is any turning-point, although we trust that in this case it is largely a matter of growing pains. It inevitably raises two fundamental questions. Firstly, what are the present-day foundations of the new system which is taking the place of the old and which was inherent in it from the earliest days of its decline? Secondly, what is the ultimate basis of the prise de conscience that will enable us to gauge the character of the immediate future ushered in by the new economic cycle?

It must not be thought that these questions are raised out of sheer intellectual curiosity. If appropriate answers can be found, it will then be possible to take effective action in one direction or another, not only by gearing all the energies of individual countries to the achievement of set goals, but also perhaps by marshalling outside forces as well, for, in these days of interdependence, the assistance they provide may be a decisive factor in success or failure.

Whenever history enters upon a new phase, the clearest thinkers are bound to wonder anxiously what groups of men will be called upon to shoulder the new responsibilities arising, and where those men are to be found. Any number of instances of this situation may be cited.

It will be enough to quote one example of special interest, not only on account of the man’s calibre, but also because the problems he analysed, for all their apparent similarity to our own, are actually very different and remote, even though so short a time has elapsed. When the young Max Weber set out (about 1895) to elucidate the problems arising out of Bismarck’s system, he concentrated on one decisive question: who were to be the political leaders of the new Germany which was then heading, through large-scale industrialization, for an unknown destiny in both the political and economic spheres? and on which of her main classes was it possible to depend? His thorough analysis, which cannot be discussed in detail here, is a model of its kind. He shows how the old Junker class, accustomed to command, nevertheless found their economic interests at variance with the Wirtschaftspolitik that came to be imposed on the new State. As for the new bourgeoisie, it had been tamed by the old Kaiser and at that time had no urge for power, nor was it remarkable for its political judgment. The brand-new proletarian class was felt to be immature and, as yet, inoffensive. In the impasse created by this situation Weber already foresaw the greatest danger for Germany’s political power. Needless to say, the situation is not the same in any part of the world today, including the Latin America of 1961. But Weber’s approach to these major issues can still provide useful guidance.

To what groups of men can we look, in present-day Latin America, to steer our continent successfully through the changes by which it is now assailed? On what classes can we depend? On the land-owning class which ruled Latin America’s destinies with some success for a considerable period? On the newer bourgeois class brought into existence by exports and industry? Or on the newest, the proletarian class, barely organized and with but slight experience of power?

The second question formulated at the beginning of this chapter is equally important. What is to be the basis of the prise de conscience which is the inevitable prelude to the new era ushered in by the 1960’s?

I have elsewhere attempted to give a scholarly answer to the question why, in all parts of the world, economic development has become the ever-recurring theme of discussion, at learned international meetings, in newspaper articles, among students or wherever people gather together".¹ One of the points brought out was the "necessary" character of economic development which, according to accepted theories, has nowadays become a world-wide movement forming part, alongside social and cultural development, of the general historical process of civilization. Economic development was defined in more precise terms as a trend stemming from the combined effects of technical power and scientific knowledge. Yet theory, sound as it may be, is perhaps not enough to explain mankind’s present experiences. Were I not afraid of being upbraided for my incorrigible attachment to Ortega (though this is not discreditable), I would yield to the temptation to comment on his theory of wealth.² For the philosopher, wealth is not something purely economic, for it relates to life as a whole; it means that man "has far greater opportunities in life than were open to him before. Enrichment can be equated with modernism; there can be no denying that every people reaches a stage when its established, traditional way of life is swept away by a current of modernism." My comments would bear more particularly on this idea of established custom. At a later point we shall discuss the significance of certain periods of social change.

However, in the present report, concerned as it is with economic development, it would be well to turn to the economist rather than to the philosopher. It was for this reason that I chose to borrow an economist’s phrase at the beginning of the present chapter, leaving it in French. As used by André Marchal,³ prise de conscience implies the introduction of a decisive, dynamic element in changes of structure. It is the basis of the distinction between short and long periods in the sense defined in the following paragraph.

It is far from my intention to enter into details of a—theory which could not but be controversial. But I have recourse to it here in order to express one of any convictions in economic terms. What was previously regarded as a far-reaching change, the decay of a social system, now assumes the more harmless shape of a change in the length of an economic period. To put the matter in a nutshell, a "période longue" is now opening up for Latin America. Marchal’s own words will justify this bold statement: "Alors que le procéssus de courte période était justiciable d’une analyse purement économique, en quelque sorte mécanique—étant donné que, seules les réactions instintives étaient retenues —le procéssus de longue période est justiciable d’une analyse psycho-sociologique, puisqu’il s’agit de rendre compte de réactions volontaires, conscientes, des individus et des groupes".⁴ Where do we find this "prise de conscience", and what is its scope?

A. The Emergent Middle Class

1. Studies of Social Stratification

For some years past, marked interest has been shown in Latin America in studies of social stratification. The pioneering work done by Theo R. Crevenna,⁵ through the publication of collective contributions of varying value and now outdated, was followed up by further research, but the subject still cannot be said to have been adequately explored. There are many reasons to account for this shortcoming. Indices and indicators are far from being uniform. We all know how the assessment of social stratification varies considerably, according to the objective or subjective character of the indices and indicators used; in addition, the whole subject is colored by preconceived ideological views.

An equally serious source of error is the influence exerted, especially on the younger research workers, by the models of studies conducted in the scientifically more advanced countries, for they do not perceive how these techniques and the general approach are inevitably affected by the special problems connected with a very different social system. This has been the case with the ever-recurring theme of social mobility which, due to the academic influence has frequently been analyzed in relation (naturally enough) with economic development, but without due consideration of the final purpose of the process.

Furthermore, owing to the worship of figures, to which we are all more or less addicted, and also because this type of research is easier for comparative purposes, much stress is naturally laid on tables of percentages, and all too little on political and social research into the thoughts and feelings of the various strata. Or, to use the traditional terminology of the Marxists, we know little of "class consciousness", of the classes that may exist and of their degree of cohesion. Although we shall later discuss this matter with reference to a special sector of Latin American society, it must be acknowledged at once that a recent article⁶ provides excellent quantitative terms of reference for any person desiring an over-all view of the question.

2. The Middle Classes and Politics

The lack of precision of the concept of class and the controversies that have raged round it (in this respect the middle class holds the record) have led to the adoption of many different euphemisms such as "middle classes", middle sectors, intermediate groups, etc., to denote this important category. Similarly, the reputation for Machiavellianism attaching to the work of some leading social scientists tempts one to avoid certain other categories—the élites, political class, ruling class—although the use of these terms in their strictly neutral, scientific connotation will often prove necessary.⁷

It must be admitted, not without some shame for us Spanish writers, that the first important reference book on the middle classes of Latin America was written by a North American teacher, John J. Johnson⁸ This is no place to discuss it in detail. Put one is bound to point out that its generous and optimistic mood cannot be shared by all. So far as the subject under discussion is concerned, Johnson considers that the future holds out great hopes for the action of the "middle sectors"; that their economic strength will enable them to play an important part in politics if they join forces with the category of senior officials; and that their century of political experience has taught them much of the art of compromise, However, the author is not blind to the many failings of this sector and on this subject, as also when discussing radicalism in Argentina, his criticism is very much to the point.

3. A Riddle in Latin America's Present-Day Development

Despite everything, his optimism is justified. At the outset of this report, reference was made, in connexion with Father Vekemans' observations,⁹ to a riddle which it is now time to discuss in detail, though without claiming to solve it. The fact is that studies of the social and economic typology of the Latin American countries have shown that some leading "modern" countries (judging by their socio-cultural indices) have nevertheless suffered latent economic stagnation in the past few years as compared with others having a lower set of "indicators". To put it briefly, there is a puzzling contradiction between the indices for economic growth and the "rates" of cultural progress. The countries in which this contradiction has been noted are, more particularly, Argentina and Chile, on the one hand, and Brazil and Mexico on the other.

We could, of course, try to find a political explanation for this phenomenon, in the different complexion of the political classes referred to earlier (provided that the necessary studies are available, a matter by no means certain) but the events cited to bear out the explanation would be exceptional and valid only for Argentina. An economic explanation¹⁰ has also been given, of so penetrating a character as to carry conviction. This is ultimately a problem connected with the import substitution policy in respect of durable, intermediate consumer and capital goods, which was not feasible in either Chile or Argentina. Towards the end of the war, Argentina had two roads open to it: "to expand its exports or embark on import substitution in respect of intermediate and capital goods"; but, on the one hand, it was handicapped by limitations to the necessary expansion of agricultural and cattle-raising production, and, on the other, the extreme shortage of foreign exchange precluded any large-scale import substitution policy with regard to intermediate goods, which would have required a substantial contribution of foreign capital or the restriction of production in the sectors making most use of imported raw materials (with the danger of unemployment). Chile was in much the same situation as Argentina. Owing to limitations imposed by the narrowness of the market, it could not substantially modify its import substitution policy, and in order to increase the volume of its exports it would have had to introduce changes in its agricultural methods which it was not in a pusition to carry through. Although it had made further progress than Argentina in the field of agricultural research, the system of land tenure was a serious stumbling-block.

Ahumada's explanation, although it has of course given rise to controversy in specialist circles, is not beyond the understanding of the Layman. We shall therefore adopt it. However, it may not be the last word on the subject, In fact this may mark only the beginning of the sociologist's investigations. Needless to say, economic progress is not, a gift of the gods, showered like manna on a few chosen countries. It is the work of definite groups of men who one day set their hands resolutely to the task. Argentina and Chile, ahead of the rest of Latin America in the organization of the State—more particularly Chile—also had many years' start in the growth of their economies. A few years before the beginning of the twentieth century, the progress made by their economies was already apparent in such external factors as their standard of living and in the graph representing their respective rates of progress.

What kind of men were responsible for this forward movement? Is the succeeding generation made of weaker stuff that is showing signs of breaking down? These questions may possibly be cleared up by a theory relating to the character of each generation, a subject calling for most careful, and complex research. The present author had some ideas on the subject, but he is glad to pay tribute to the clearer explanation furnished in a study by Bert F. Hoselitz¹¹

In the following discussion of the "Hoselitz hypothesis", the reader need not fear that, following the latest academic fashion, this hypothesis will be made the subject of an exercise in axiomatization or logical positivism. In plain English, Hoselitz describes the above-mentioned phenomenon, but then introduces a new sociological argument when he states that "the two countries with the larger middle segment have shown less rapid growth than those with a much smaller middle group." His central point is brought out in the following remark: "Obviously, the decisive factor is not the relative size of the middle class, but its composition and the role it actually plays."¹²

If we cast our minds back to the indices given by Father Vekemans, to Johnson's account of the action of the middle sectors in Chile and Argentina in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, and to Germani's analysis of the question, the points of similarity will be readily perceived. We all know how writers referring to the vaguely defined middle classes are accustomed to draw a distinction between the "old" and "new" segments. Hoselitz naturally touches upon this point, which warrants careful analysis. For the time being we shall merely outline the main point (stated less emphatically, in the interests of objectivity); it may well be that the middle classes in Chile and Argentina are today more interested in a "change in income distribution than in genuine augmentation of total national output". A further quotation from Hoselitz himself will complete the account of his hypothesis: "... in an economy in which economic growth depends in large part upon private decisions, an upper class which looks mainly towards conspicuous consumption, and a middle class which looks not toward the augmentation, but towards redristribution of the social dividend as providing rewards for its members, fail to ensure maximum economic growth".¹³

Can the Hoselitz hypothesis be borne out by other data and observations? I shall merely comment briefly on the subject, which cannot be discussed here in greater detail.

The categories dealt with in the well-known works by Clark and Fourastié have already become part of the common heritage of economists and sociologists. However, gaps have been found in the logical sequence of the different known sectors, the most serious problems arising in connexion with the so-called tertiary sector. Complex elements which cannot be discussed here enter into its make-up and, in particular, its comparative percentage is sometimes far from being an unmistakable sign of economic progress.

The economic study referred to in the early part of this report¹⁴ deals at one point with the phenomenon of unemployment "despite the fact that the 4 per cent rise in production for Latin America as a whole was sufficient to bring about an increase in productive employment from 1929 onwards", In some countries such as Argentina and Chile, where there has Leen little change in the per capita income, concealed unemployment is apparent mainly in the expansion of the tertiary sector. According to certain estimates for the 1950-58 period, the volume of the tertiary sector rose by approximately 27 per cent. The report goes on to state: "Whatever the explanation, the service industries will probably continue to expand rapidly after 1955, at least in Chile and Argentina." The report subsequently discusses the increase in current government expenditure, an increase which became particularly marked in Argentina. Thus, at times when the national output is stationary—with scarcely any income growth in the private sector and an increase in unemployment—strong pressure is exerted for an expansion of employment in the public sector.

While this is not the place for a detailed discussion of previous economic theories, they should be touched on briefly, so as to provide some guidance for the sociologist. Pareto's theory of the movement of the élites lays considerable stress on the respective parts played by speculators and rentiers. Speculators are the bold creators of new economic combinations and, under their rule, business is built up (some sectors flourishing while others are a failure) and the economy forges ahead. Rentiers, on the other hand, are less venturesome and merely wait for the interest to come in from their inherited wealth, leaving the economy to move quietly forward by the force of inertia.

Of course the situation has changed since Pareto's day. Nowhere do we now find the classical type of liberal State—a fact from which certain inferences should be drawn. Yet it is very tempting to use Pareto's formula to explain the succession of bourgeois strata in Chile and Argentina, as viewed by Hoselitz. Do we really find such widely differing outlooks among the middle sectors already mentioned? What kind of men are nowadays responsible for the extraordinary forward movement in Brazil and Mexico? Wagley, in the fine study referred to earlier, when discussing the modern upper class, points out that many of its new members are climbers and quotes a few pages of Gilberto Freire¹⁵ to portray their character. Freire calls them "transition figures" and, after drawing attention to their widely differing social backgrounds, dwells on the psychological motives behind their dynamism. The transition from defenceless poverty to wealth and ɔower always produces the same results: "In such circumstances moral controls break down and the old family surroundings, whether an Italian farm or in Brazil itself, exert no further influence behaviour." Like the "nouveau riches" everywhere, the group does not cling to any traditional values. The political connexions of these new classes form a most interesting study, and we shall revert to them later.

Does this phenomenon happen to be peculiar to the new Brazil? Writing of Mexico, Daniel Cosió Villegas, the last person in the world who could be accused of being a reactionary, makes the following seemingly rather nostalgic comment: "The new captains of industry and bank magnates end by forming not mere pressure groups (as they are termed in sociological jargon) but actual oligarchies. which in the Latin American social scene would have superseded the erstwhile land-owning oligarchy. Between the old and the new there are, however, two very important differences, one political and the other social. The old land-owning oligarchy was itself the ruling class throughout the whole of the nineteenth and well into the twentieth century, in almost all the Latin American countries. In these circumstances, it openly seized political power and certainly availed itself thereof to promote its own interests; but at the same time it did assume the attendant responsibilities. The new industrial and banking oligarchy wishes to influence governmental decisions, and actually does so, but without shouldering the responsibilities that such decisions necessarily involve. The social difference is no less important. In the course of time, the old land-owning oligarchy reformed itself from within; its members acquired culture and good taste, learnt to understand general problems which had nothing to do with the farming of their land, and were therefore able to indulge in the luxury of becoming patrons of arts and letters. The new oligarchy is still unduly crude and coarse, smacks unmistakably of money because it thinks of nothing else, and does not seem to understand anything that has no direct bearing on its business affairs.¹⁶

I have quoted the distinguished Mexican historian at such length not only on account of his persuasive prose but also because the point he makes is so pertinent. Any trained sociologist who compares it with the previous remarks on Brazil will immediately sense a serious problem. These strong, aggressive groups, these climbers who are the driving force in present-day Brazil and Mexico, have nevertheless made their way thanks to a revolutionary situation or at least to serious social upheaval. They carry on the familiar tradition of capitalist adventurers and political opportunists who are in a hurry to amass disproportionate profits. "The shortage of entrepreneurs means that prospective profits have to be large for new firms to be established. This helps to explain delays in the development of some sectors, as well as the high profit margins, especially in manufacturing."¹⁷

It may well be that Pareto's impassive cynicism is justified and that economic growth is impossible without a fair sprinkling of bold speculators, but sound, sustained development may also, possibly, give rise to another type of men. It is sometimes thought that the Latin American middle classes have so far been characterized not only by the dual efforts of "climbers" and "distributors" but also, in some countries, by the tragic weakness of an aimless bourgeoisie, demoralized by the enjoyment of "white" prosperity, to the dismay of its best intellectuals. This picture may not be quite correct. But where do we find the self-control and discipline of the true creators of modern capitalism, the energy and austerity of the young samurai who built up modern Japan?

The account of the lower middle class given by some of its observers is not encouraging. Reverting once again to Wagley's analysis of the situation in Brazil, we find that the lower middle class, compounded largely of old but partly of new elements, is beset by difficulties; its aspirations are constantly frustrated for various reasons, it has too great a tendency to look back to the past, and it has "not yet developed a middle-class ideology" which could provide incentive for its action as in Europe and North America. "In short, it does not constitute, ideologically speaking, a (genuine) middle class."

However, there is nothing inherently wrong with the middle class being still the most conservative sector of society in Brazil. Lucio Mendieta Nuñez, referring to the Mexican middle class,¹⁸ quite rightly takes a favourable view of its conservative strain, its interest in education and science and its respect for the highest ethical and religious values. It thus fulfils the twofold purpose that has to be served by the middle classes in achieving any sound economic development; on the one hand, it is the mainspring of innovation, the bold driving force for progress, while, on the other hand, thanks to its culture and education, it serves as the repository for those aspects of the country's traditions that are worth preserving.

The development of modern industrial societies has everywhere been accompanied by the very serious problem of moral erosion (Freyer). In the older countries the affects of this erosion have been attenuated by such factors as the very slowness of the process. In the young countries, on the other hand, the thin crust of morality is in danger of breaking up, with catastrophic effects. The destruction of the "protective strata" discussed by Schumpeter (perhaps scarcely applying to the United States of America) may have the same significance for Latin America as for Europe, to whose institutions it has so far been much closer. But whether or not this theory is correct, one thing seems certain. If there is one strategic element that should be carefully nurtured by Latin American society it is that social stratum whose salient features were defined by Max Weber as rational consciousness, the rationalization of the forms of life and a rational economic ethos.¹⁹

However, this is by no means the only social group on which reliance can be placed. It has been made abundantly clear that what the middle classes are capable of achieving depends on the calibre and resolve of the "political class" and on the guidance that can be provided by the "pouvoir spirituel" of the "ruling class". These factors will determine whether the spasmodic efforts of the climber (which may be necessary) will be expanded into a sustained endeavour on the part of other equally ambitious social strata, no less essential in the long run.

Needless to say, the urban and rural proletarian masses constitute another group which can be called upon; they do not, however, come within the scope of the present chapter. But, to return once more to the middle sectors, the old traditional bourgeoisie, one thing above all is apparent in these days of economic development—it cannot be brought about solely by observance of Louis Philippe's famous watchword: enrichosez-vous.

B. Politics as a Driving Force and a Guide

1. Technology and Politics

Where, as we have already asked, do we find the ultimate basis of the prise de conscience (in Marchal’s sense of the word) which is now ushering in a new "long" period in Latin America’s economic life or, in more general terms, a new era in its life as a whole? The theory of cultural backwardness that was in vogue for some time helped to spread a belief in the decisive importance of the "technological" factor and, through its over-simplified approach, exerted an influence on practical politics. It has rightly been asserted that no one can fully grasp the nature of modern industrial societies which halt giving serious consideration to two phenomena which may appear widely disparate —technology and painting. To technology,²⁰ not so much because through its progress it surpasses other sectors of culture (a theory that is disproved by science) but because it leaves its mark on the manners, customs and language of the day, because it completely overthrows the nineteenth century concept of progress, and because its development affords an example of how to tackle problems in other fields, including the most recalcitrant branches of the social sciences. In the matter of painting, the situation is more delicate and complicated, but Arnold Gehlen²¹ may well be right in maintaining, along with other thinkers, that some of the secrets of the age are unlocked by Picasso or Miró, Klee, Max Ernst or Mattia Moram.

No attempt has so far been made to analyse the present day situation in Latin America by giving a sociological interpretation of the starkness of its modern paintings (those of Orozco, for instance, of Tamayo or Siqueiros, Portinari, Matta or even Jusep Torres Campalans). Yet almost excessive stress has been laid on the revolution in ways of thought and feeling that has been brought about by the latest technological advances. What may be termed a "technological interpretation" has been given of the prise de conscience in Latin America today. This interpretation obviously yields part of the truth, but by no means, the whole truth.

In his study of Guatemala,²² which can now suitably be quoted for a second time, Richard N. Adams had the intellectual and political courage to oppose the prevailing fashion for technological determinism. The people of Guatemala obviously do not spurn anything that can improve their lot through technological aid. Yet, as in the past, so doubtless in the present, their main hopes for the future are centred on a general reform of the traditional social structure; there is no cause for surprise that these hopes are cherished chiefly by the lower middle classes: by teachers and students, officials and office workers, small industrialists and landowners. Two paragraphs by Adams, deserve quoting in full: "When we examine the process of change in Guatemalan society as a whole, two striking features leap to the eye. In the first place, the nation is in the throes of changing over from a discontinuous set of regional cultures to a continuously evolving and nationally centred culture. In the second place, this change-over is being initiated by political and social innovations, rather than arising spontaneously out of changes in production and technology".²³

Later on, he states categorically: "... we must realize that in a country like Guatemala people do not see their problems solely in terms of technological aid and economic development. They are intimately involved in the painful emergence of a new society with its new sources of power".²⁴

Adams’ discerning remarks concerning Guatemala are applicable mutatis mutantis to most, if not all, of the other countries in Latin America. This means, to borrow the terms used by another economist, that, although due importance should be attached to the problem of technology when considering the historic role of the region’s "autonomous forces", equal account should be taken of population movements and particularly of the movement of ideas. In answer to our second basic question, this means that the prise de conscience ushering in the new era must be chiefly of a psychological and social character. To quote the words of Marchal: "C’est, en effet, la prise de conscience d’un désajustement dans les structures sociales—au besoin en faisant intervenir la contrainte dont disposent l’État et les groupes— qui peut conduire a une modification des structures économiques et vice versa".²⁵

2. The Problem of Social Change

Much ink has been spilt in the attempt to define the question of social change, but no agreement has yet been reached either as regards a statement of its problems or a general scheme for their solution. The classical schools of sociology (as direct heirs of the philosophy of history) were, fundamentally, merely successive attempts to answer this important question. At a later stage, sociologists usually avoided the matter, either through extreme modesty or in obedience to an alleged scientific conscientiousness, obliging such a taboo subject to be mentioned only in inverted commas or with capital letters.

Furthermore, the functional school which has enjoyed such vogue in recent years—at least in North America and among its foreign admirers who in this respect are more Catholic than the Pope—despite its undeniable merits, has little to say on this point, since it is more interested in tensions and changes within a system designed to achieve an inner harmony that will justify its existence than in any radical transformation of a particular social system. Of course, the various approaches to the problem may be of great value for empirical research into these or other phenomena of change.²⁶

The question is all the more complex as economic development, by its very nature, must be regarded as one of the problems connected with social change and must inevitably be taken into account by economists, sociologists and historians,

Needless to say, this vast problem cannot be fully explored at the Of moment. But attention should be paid to one of its aspects which, by no mere chance, is perhaps the most decisive and basic. In considering radical changes, (that is to say, a change-over from one system to another), one fact that is immediately obvious is an alteration in the power structure. course, this change in structure does not always need to be radical and revolutionary with one élite being completely replaced by a "counter-élite" (Lasswell); the membership of the "political class" and the "ruling class" (some combination of the new and old) only needs to be sufficiently new and vigorous to give the country a fundamentally different political and social orientation. In any case we then have a very real change in the power structure.

The power structure is a subject that has frequently cropped up incidentally in the foregoing pages. We have considered the transition from one historical system (that of the hacienda) to the industrial system with which the future lies. It would be well to touch, if only briefly, on the problems involved in changes in the power structure.

The old system of the hacienda did actually create a State in most of the Latin American countries, and in some of them it not only worked for many years with great efficiency but was also accepted as a legitimate source of authority; in other words the "system" worked out and adhered to "its own political formula" (Mosca). The political institutions evolved by these States were naturally modelled on the best then to be found in Europe and the United States of America. A presidential or parliamentary system was adopted; electoral procedures ranged from election by absolute majority to proportional representation; the law courts were organized in accordance with the strictest canons of the time and occasionally with such distinctive legal guarantees as the Mexican writ of prohibition; the administrative services mostly showed traces of French influence (in those days similar to the Spanish); and the basic codes (civil, mercantile, penal and code of procedures) promulgated one after another, were modelled on "continental law".

For students of Latin American political systems, some of these institutions raise a host of most important questions. And, in view of the familiar problem of Latin America's "instability", they naturally take a special interest in the influence exerted by electoral procedures and forms of government.²⁷

But we must not go too deeply into these matters. It is necessary to revert to our main question, formulating it as incisively as possible on the purely theoretical level.

Essentially, the old system operated through the existence of two main political parties, its "political formula" being the contraposition of two ideologies only—conservative and liberal. Needless to say, we cannot go into the ups and downs of these parties and schools of thought or into the various names by which they were labelled. As in any study of parties, it would be necessary to discuss, on the one hand, the doctrines they professed and, on the other, their structure. However, for the moment we must confine ourselves to a brief glance at past history.

As a rule, and as was to be expected, the conservative parties upheld the interests of the big landowners; they defended the traditional principles of education; they encouraged the maintenance of old customs and manners; they were generally in favour of the predominant role played by the Church, and not in spiritual matters alone. Accordingly, they were for the most part resolute supporters of the union of Church and State. The reforms they were bound to put forward were of a cautious character and preferably confined to legal and administrative questions.

The liberals, on the other hand, though not always avowedly anti-clerical, strove to curtail the Church's prerogatives, not only in the spiritual sphere but also in the matter of land and other property (the well-known "anti-mortmain" movement being the most striking case in point); they were in favour of modernizing education at all levels; they diffidently supported proposals for land reform; and they cherished somewhat vague ideals of federalism in the political sphere and of self-government so far as local administration was concerned.

The opposition with regard to certain problems of interest and other issues centered on technical points (it would nowadays be described as objective)—and was frequently not so radical as to preclude honorable compromises; eventually, on fiscal and economic issues they scarcely differed, both being guided by Manchesterism. However, their religious differences were always acute (even over what are now regarded as marginal problems); a parallel may be drawn between the liberal-conservative dichotomy of the Hispanic American countries and the traditions of the Mediterranean Latin countries—France, Italy and Spain.

So far as the structure of these parties is concerned, they undoubtedly belong to what is known in Anglo-Saxon terminology as the "caucus" type, where much depends on leadership. Traditional local leaders, maintaining close ties with one another, supported each other on such occasions as elections, through temporary organizations of party men who set in motion the well-known machinery of political gatherings, with oral or written statements of proposals and promises, but the members of these parties did no more than cast their vote or provide temporary support, with varying degrees of enthusiasm, for the actions of their leaders. The traditional parties of this type have existed and still exist in all parts of the world, and there is no reason to make excuses for their existence in Latin America, which can be explained on historical grounds. Three facts are, however, important.

The first is the symbiosis existing between the families from which these parties drew their support. Anyone bearing in mind the basic sociological contrast between town and country (between the "cultural- mercantile complex of the city" and the hacienda system) will immediately realize how these parties were recruited from the outset. From the early days of Latin American history, the Andalusian nobility had no scruples about engaging in trade; and merchants from Spain, Genoa, Venice, Pisa and Florence, once they had amassed a fortune, sought to establish their new social status by acquiring landed property. This pattern of development is to be found in all parts of the world (a typical instance being afforded by early Italian capitalism). The head of the hacienda also lived close to the town, and the urban tradesman (from inland or coastal areas) was anxious to purchase property and enhance his social status by establishing neighbourly relations with the old rural aristocracy. Analysis of the actual situation in each country will of course show that social classes cannot be classified in hard-and-fast categories, for there are so many variations in each. When, in addition to this natural symbiosis, we take into account the pragmatic symbiosis resulting from the fact that the members of many families were "strategically dispersed" between both parties, so as not to lose any opportunity for influence and power, it will be readily understood why the system worked so smoothly in many parts of Latin America with its relative social and political uniformity.

It is a decisive and undeniable fact (whether we like it or not, and only history will explain it) that the system worked for a long period with all the requirements that can be laid down by the strictest "functionalists" of today, such as integration, the achievement of aims, adaptation to the outside world, and the keeping of domestic tensions and conflicts continually in check. Sometimes, after long decades of anarchy, the countries themselves put forward the "fiction" of a structure holding out promise of peace and stability, regardless of the self-deception involved. A number of such instances may be cited in America, but perhaps the most famous was Cánovas del Castillo's restoration of the Spanish monarchy which despite the "well-deserved criticism" of the last generation of Spanish thinkers laid the material bases for the "silver age" which these were later instrumental in establishing. However, some of those who benefited from the system began to realize that the time had come when this machinery no longer worked. It is to the credit of a conservative such as Roque Sáenz Peña, to mention only one instance, that he should have endeavored, perhaps at a late stage and in the face of opposition from many in his party, to open the floodgates to the surging tide of a new age.

The third decisive fact—so weighty that Latin America is still feeling the effects of the problems to which it gave rise—is that this system one day broke down definitely and a serious political vacuum was created by the lack of anything to take its place, by the total lack of an adequate power structure geared to the tasks of the day. In other words, it became necessary to train a new ruling class, the direct heir of its predecessor, required by the completely changed situation in Latin America.

Columbia offers possibly the most complex or even tragic example of the repercussions on Latin American society of an ineluctable evolution, to borrow a term from de Tocqueville. If the scope of the present study permitted, we should dwell with sorrowful sympathy on this historic outcome, from which so much can be learnt, But let there be no mistake: Colombia's problems are common to all Latin America, though they do not occur everywhere in so acute and dangerous a form.

The breakdown of the traditional two-party combination which accompanied the decline of the traditional hacienda system was the outcome of the far reaching changes outlined above, the consequences of the emergence of the new middle classes (urban and partly rural) the corollary of the decline of ideologies which accompanied or was bound up with these phenomena. It resulted from the inability to fill a political vacuum with the popular parties required of the times, when control could no longer be exercised by the caucus parties, despite their experience and (why doubt it?) their good intentions. It was the product of the conditions which gave rise (by design or by chance) to the growth of a new political class and the ruling class which it needed, whether it would or not, for its support and guidance.

It would be intellectually dishonest not to acknowledge the practical difficulties arising, though they cannot all be explored. Confining our attention to the problems of adaptation faced by all traditional two-party systems, it would be well to recall the teachings of one of the leading exponents of the problem, Maurice Duverger. We have only one example (and it is to be found in Europe) of a timely transformation of the traditional opposition between liberals and conservatives. This example is afforded by England, which can practically always be taken as a model in political matters. In masterly fashion it made the necessary transition from the nineteenth century two-party system to the already outdated twentieth century two-party system. But the social mechanism²⁸ through which this result was achieved also exerted an influence on other sectors, though not with the same results. This mechanism, even without needing to be absolutely identical, could not come into being in Latin America owing to the indiscipline and ideological confusion of its so-called left-wing movements (referred to above), the excessive number of parties thus created, and the ascendancy of certain leading figures who were zealous enough but suffered from "certa confusione nella testa". The sociologist, while striving to provide an explanation, does not claim to offer remedies for the future. Some sociologists, including R. Aron, ascribe certain of the difficulties confronting Latin American democracy to the consequences of this late development, thus making it comparable with constitutional democracy in France and Italy (not Spain for the time being); the danger of their parliamentary structure lies in the fact that the centre parties, which are the champions of traditional democracy, are flanked by extreme parties not compatible with the democratic system. The situation in Latin America may be very different as yet, but a word of warning is not out of place

The gap in the power structure due to the failure of the historical political parties (successfully evolved by the hacienda system) to adjust themselves to a new situation creates a serious vacuum, as legitimate government is no longer firmly rooted. If any system is to be a driving force (and not merely able to survive) it must be both legitimate and effective - a point repeatedly stressed from the days of Aristotle to Max Weber and by all the "Machiavellian" political commentators. But while effectiveness is important, legitimacy is even more so. The old classes (the erstwhile oligarchies) may be capable of achieving a new form of legitimacy if they try to adjust their "political formula" to the requirements of the times. An old liberal can never, without being false to himself, desire the liquidation of anyone; and even a beginner in sociology knows how important a part was played by the "protective strata", as described by Schumpeter,²⁹ during periods of change. But if people have no determination to change, they have no cause for complaint; all they can do is to resign themselves piously to the thought that God, for his inscrutable purposes, may sometimes blind those whom He wishes to destroy.

Peaceful endeavors to fill the power vacuum left by the decline of the long-established oligarchy have been made (though, of course, to a lesser extent in countries where the vacuum was suddenly filled by a revolution) by the new organizations (proceeding by trial-and-error methods and making many mistakes) formed by the most important productive forces in modern industrial societies and savouring somewhat of Saint-Simoniam,

But the predominance of the military is a phenomenon of Latin America and other parts of the world to ay which runs counter to the Saint-Simonian and Spencerian schools of thought and puts their prophecies to a severe test. This is a complex phenomenon affecting both the national and international life. The international aspects of the problem account for the tensions of the atomic age, even though for the moment (and, let us hope, for the future too) we are faced with no more than a cold war of nerves, Two contradictory factors likewise account for the emergence of the phenomenon at the national level.

On the one hand, old powers found it humanly impossible to adjust themselves overnight to changed circumstances and to assign a new role to the armed forces which had won renown for themselves, while, on the other, new countries, faced with the difficulties of improvising methods of government, turn to the army as the basic force for cohesion. There is nothing surprising in the fact that this system has aroused the liveliest interest among social scientists, regardless of their political views.³⁰

Needless to say, we are interested solely in those aspects of this subject which bear on Latin America, in fact in the very restricted aspect with which this report is concerned. This digression on the military in Latin American politics is merely designed to provide basic background information on certain essential points.³¹

Edwin Lieuwen's thoughtful book³² published in 1960 has provided material for extensive commentary, though on differing lines.³³ Although, of course, this book helped to aggravate the uneasiness of progressive Latin Americans, recent events have alleviated these feelings, if only for the poor reason that the same troubles are to be found all over the world.

To belabour the point once more, our analysis of this question is based on the fact that the break-up of the old social structure in Latin America left a power vacuum. Any such vaccum automatically offers a strong temptation to seize power, and it would be only human if chemists, architects and peaceful Greek scholars with obedient followers trained in the use of machine-guns were to feel confident that, once they took over the reins of government, their interesting fields of study would meet with general approval. Joking apart, however, we are not always confronted with an undisguised lust for power.

In the romantic phase of Latin American history, the military leader of the civil and international wars was a gentleman-at-arms of land-owning class, followed by an improvised band of supporters who, as in the case of Paez, finally became a hardened fighting force. But we are now living in less heroic times with a supposedly peaceful economy, and the military chiefs who seize power here and there, or influence their countries' decisions, are not self-taught, warriors of the mountain or plains, but, more often than not, professional officers who have spent several years doing strictly technical studies. In addition, they come, practically without exception, from hard-working middle-class families, rather than from the land-owning aristocracy.

What has happened, at least in a good many cases? Without going into the question thoroughly, it should be said that the professional soldier is characterized by two very specific aspects of his training. For the time being, his is the only profession whose followers have been educated within a patriotic scheme of values. Geography and history, heroic myths and the virtues of sacrifice and discipline all converge to form in him an idea of his homeland as a single whole. Private interests exist, of course, as in any human group but, be he of a sentimental or practical turn of mind, his over-all view of his country is that of an entity which not only has to be maintained and aggrandized as much as possible by the efforts of all, but which also demands the sacrifice of life itself in accordance with an age-old tradition.

On the other hand, the professional soldier in our time receives, for better or for worse, a technical training, which predisposes him to infection by the technocratic tendencies of our age. In the more powerful countries these technocratic leanings find immediate employment within the requirements of his own profession, but in the marginal countries (where, fortunately, there is no threat of mortal strife between neighbors) theses leanings remain latent.

Socially and psychologically speaking, these two elements in the soldier's training decidedly condition his interest in politics, particularly in the inaptly-named "underdeveloped countries". This term is in itself a stigma which is a factor in the "will to greatness" that obsesses the career officer as it does other professional people.

Thus it happens, in a political situation that is stagnant and fiberless, that a career officer may feel himself capable of overcoming the basic faults which are responsible for the general frustration. The old oligarch naturally retains some of its capacity to command and its notion of national unity, but individual interests may play too important a part to allow it to act effectively. The new leftists, not only because of the urgency of their relentless daily problems, but because of their training and their idealistic dreams, usually have a rather limited concept of what national legitimacy really means, and scant instinct for power and command. Max Weber saw this as long ago as 1875, as was mentioned above, and it is no wonder that, faced with the imminent Nazi catastrophe, some highly intelligent Germans of every political color believed that a temporary military dictatorship in the Roman style might have saved the Weimar Republic from its irreconcilable tensions.

Career officers, who are men from the middle class, may therefore think that their mission of stimulating development and thereby raising the national prestige implies first of all strengthening the weakened notion of legitimacy and improving efficiency.

Anyone who has shared the concerns of young military people for any length of time, as the author of these lines has done both through books and personal contacts, will have no doubts on this matter. And he may remember, perhaps admiringly, how the "technological potentialities" of some officers were enthusiastically put at the disposal of the organization of the Colonial Regiments, away on the border of the Santa Cruz forest.

By an irony of history, this effort on the part of military men seems always doomed to failure. Leaving aside cases of corruption, we find our- selves confronted by a more complicated situation; it would appear that, as a result of their action and after a certain length of time, the legitimacy that they so valiantly tried to shore up deteriorates irremediably, and scarcely anything is gained in the way of the desired efficiency, because modern technology has become enormously complicated and requires compromise, planning and concerted action which, even with the best intention, cannot be called into being overnight.

Experience reminds us again and again that there is no true government where the civil authority is not paramount. For the present, however, it is not possible to dispense with the integrating and honorable role of the military authority. Meanwhile, it behoves the new ruling classes to find practical and human solutions to the problems of the social group formed by the men of a country's armed forces. Education is important here, as it is in other spheres—an education adapted to our time—but it is also important to find an outlet for the undeniable "creative potentialities" of these men.

3. The New Masses and the Lure of the Demagogy

Besides the so-called "middle sectors", which have been active for some time in Latin American politics through their parties (defective though they be) and through their pressure groups, a large part of the working population has also been organized, despite the fact that until now trade union action has unfortunately met with more obstacles than assistance. These organized workers, however, trained to their objectives of economic betterment and political participation (the latter predominating sometimes over the former in the early period of their activity) still form an aristocratic and, as it were, privileged stratum within the proletariat.

On the other hand, what happens when the new masses, "driven out" by the poverty of rural life or by fortuitous changes in the balance of rural economy, drift to the cities or go to swell the numbers of the rural proletariat working for the large-scale enterprises of modern farming? Local and foreign observers point out regretfully that in places like Lima or Rio, Santiago or Mexico City, these impoverished marginal masses of people are spreading apace; they are called by various names that have lost all local character as they become more widely used. Within the same category fall those unsettled people who are attracted here and there by cash-crop farming or drawn by the advantages of large enterprises producing for export. It is the concern of social politics to combat the multitude of personal problems presented by these people in their migrations and in their temporary "maladjustment". What we are interested in here is some thing else: the problem of their political integration or, to put it another way, the threat offered by their situation to the proper functioning of democracy at this particular moment of economic development.

It need hardly be said that the reasoning which follows is valid only for one who believes in a system of liberal democracy. The problem that arises is that the situation of masses such as these offers an ideal terrain for extremist decisions, and, surprisingly enough in this case, the extremism, far from being always of the same complexion, may be as far to the right as to the left. In the growing body of literature on the subject, reference is often made to the "authoritarianism" of the working class—a term the derivation of which we do not propose to investigate now. Whether the term itself is correct or not, it does shed some light upon a few of the perplexities that are bewildering contemporary man, provided he does not try to forget some of his most vivid experiences too quickly. But let us proceed step by step.

The modern organized industrialized proletariat, as its eventful political and trade union history shows, is not usually made up in any way by members of the right wing. This naturally applies more to Europe than to North America. Some groups of American workers vote in good conscience for the Republican party, because of conditions peculiar to that country which are easily explainable. Or, to take a more recent and more unusual example, the Tory vote of a supposed new working class has aroused astonishment in certain English observers. In any event, it is obvious that the proletariat tends by its very nature to be "progressive" rather than conservative. We are considering not only this, however, but also the constancy and relative "predictability" of these preferences on the part of labour.

This is a function of normal circumstances, within which it is no less normal that certain groups besides the workers, such as, for instance, the majority of intellectuals, should incline to the left. Sociologically speaking, this predictable behaviour is perfectly rational,

However, when these normal circumstances no longer obtain—in times of economic insecurity, troubles due to inflation, widespread unemployment, collapsing standards of living, war, etc.—the predictability of behavior on all sides begins to be problematical.

The irrational becomes a sociological possibility. The experiences in Europe in the years marked by the spread of fascism and other disturbing phenomena (such as the curious agrarian movements in some Eastern countries) afford an example of such situations, which still have not been fully explained in all their complexity. But if that could occur in the case of groups and masses that had known some years of stability and often had powerful educational and cultural organizations behind them as well as political and economic institutions, what can be the situation of those masses, those genuine masses, uprooted and divorced from their cultural past?

It is not our intention here to go into the confused and complex subject of mass society,³⁴ a subject abounding in the idées fixes of the holders of different points of view. It is, however, necessary to recall a few essential points. Let us not discuss the existence (denied by some thinkers) of a hypothetical mass society. While this has a certain utility (for cultural criticism, in particular) it undoubtedly constitutes a socio- logical category that is too general for the purposes of specific empirical research, of a political nature, for instance. On the other hand, the more precise category of "mass situations" may suitably be invoked to explain some of the psycho-social phenomena of what is called "collective behaviour".

These people, then, who have been "uprooted" from the traditional social milieu of Latin America and who flock to the callampas and favelas of its large cities, constitute a typical case of a condition which gives rise to "mass situations". That is to say, they offer conditions in which all the characteristics of these situations may be found: crowding together, which perhaps engenders a sense of power; a common lot, made

up of unfulfilled aspirations, daily frustrations and a feeling of insecurity; a consciousness of the distance that separates their way of life from that of the more fortunate beings around them. What political behaviour should we expect from these groups in such circumstances? Or, to put it another way, can the trend of their behaviour be predicted?

In another article attention has been briefly drawn to the seriousness of this situation in the Latin American countries which are in process of economic development.³⁵

The real difficulty resides in the uncertainty of any attempt at prediction. Seymour Martin Lipset, now a member of the Californian group, one of the most interesting of present-day American sociologists, is partly responsible for having launched this subject and for having coined in English the phrase "working-class authoritarianism"" referred to above. It is worth lingering a few moments over his words, which obviously even he would not want taken as gospel. In short, what he says is that the social situation of the lower classes - who are in no way to be identified with the Lumpenproletariat in the Marxist sense – is characterized by their low education, low participation in political or voluntary organizations of any type, little reading, isolated occupations, economic insecurity and authoritarian family patterns.³⁶

Leaving out (perhaps inadvisedly) the analytical transition, we (a) a striking correlation of these characteristics with anti- democratic attitudes; (b) a tendency towards authorita ianism which is bound up with a comparative lack of economic and psychological security; and, consequently, (c) a predisposition toward "extremist" movements (by which we mean political movements, though not to the exclusion of other types), which under certain conditions may change into the exact opposite, that is to say, into a total political apathy.

Lipset proposes a hypothesis which, to a believer in democracy, seems particularly important, and which should be tested in various circumstances. The hypothesis is this: "The proposition that the lack of a rich, complex frame of reference is the vital variable which connects low status and a predisposition toward extremism does not necessarily suggest that the lower strata will be authoritarian; it implies that, other things being equal, they will choose the least complex alternative³⁷ This means that when extremism represents an alternative of greater complexity, these groups will be inclined rather to oppose such movements and parties.

It is not our intention to embark on a discussion of the theses of Lipset and his followers. It is enough simply to recognize his merit in daring to pose a problem, disconcerting in appearance, which not only has independent theoretical value but is also extremely important in stimulating reflection among Latin American students of these hazardous times.³⁸ Let us refer once more to the precision and clarity of the oft-quoted study by Wagley. Both the workers on mechanized farms and the crowded dwellers in the favelas are people who have been uprooted and separated for some time from their traditional way of life. Now one of the essential elements of this vanished way of life is the almost mythical image of the patrao (paternalistic employer). It may be therefore, that, in the "mass situations" in which these people live, their strongest feeling is one of nostalgia for just such a "boss". But this boss may and in our time does—assume the stirring form of the demagogue, so that, although the urban lower classes in Brazil continue to be Catholic and do not have much international awareness, they "might easily be swung to new charismatic leaders; as long as their plight is serious, they will be vulnerable to extremist influences".³⁹ What is valid for Brazil is also valid for other countries, and these extremist leanings may be to the right just as well as to the left.

If the ruling classes do not concern themselves seriously with the - G problem and not only through palliative measures of welfare aid the possible thriving of "mass" parties will spell grave danger for Latin America, and this more particularly in the sphere of economic development, since, as has been mentioned elsewhere, such parties, however idealistic they may be, are from a technical point of view so erratic and dependent upon improvisation that they represent the very stuff of inefficiency.

How to incorporate these uprooted masses into the national political life in a responsible way is a task that we shall have to leave for the moment to better counsellors. It may be that political scientists will be able to solve the problem. There is a possible solution and one which might succeed as a short-term measure: panem et circenses. But in the long run their present-day substitute—tortillas and cheap movies are bound to be fraught with danger. Economic development demands sacrifices but it also requires tangible results to keep up men's hopes from day to day. At a meeting in Mexico of the Working Groups on Social Aspects of Economic Development in Latin America, held in December 1960, this was a primordial and unanimous concern. This preoccupation was expressed in different ways, but the following opinion is perhaps most representative: "A policy of apportionment of investments should be adopted which would permit the production of goods for wage-earners to increase more rapidly than the production of other consumer goods and services."⁴⁰ An outstanding Puerto Rican politician adopted as a motto for his followers the forceful expression "up with our sleeves". No one insists that leaders in other countries adopt the colorful Puerto Rican expression, but they should realize its meaning: economic development is an uphill task, always laborious. Nevertheless, it can be carried out successfully if those who attack the challenging slope together are able from time to time, in looking around them, to recognize and enjoy the tangible results thus gradually achieved.

C. The Ideology of Development and the New Parties

At this advanced point in his task, the author hopes for his own sake, as well as for that of his unknown readers, that in working out the pattern of his thoughts he has been able to maintain the thread of the central idea. Lest there be any misunderstanding, however, it might be well to link up what is to follow with what has gone before, by means of a brief review. Circumstances have been responsible for our taking the theme "the social aspects of economic development"; but since the ways of treating it were many, the selection of one particular treatment necessarily had to be dictated by the personal preferences of the author and the extent to which he was informed or uninformed on the subject. With a slender training in the matter of welfare or social policy, he would have inclined by vocation towards the more theoretical questions of sociology; he has already touched on these, however, and hopes to return to them with renewed emphasis later. Certain contingencies (there is always an element of chance in life) and perhaps the "unpunished vice" of intellectual curiosity, made him prefer a historic approach in this case, even though it was bound to be tenuous and hypothetical. In the eventful history of Iberian America—or rather Latin America—what has been the essential core of its politico-social vicissitudes? In this connexion it was fitting to describe the origin and decline of the hacienda system, since the hacienda was the basic structure, the evolution of which was accompanied by other factors no less essential, sometimes attracting them, sometimes bringing them to light.

In the first decades of the twentieth century the decline of the old system met with other, rising, forces that were militating in favour of its complete transformation. Some years later, at a complicated Juncture in international life, a new and fundamental prise de conscience spread throughout Latin America, deriving its main impetus from that Continent's fervent aspiration to economic development and coinciding, as it were, with the beginning of its full adulthood. In the face of certain opinions, insistence upon the real and profound psychological nature of this prise de conscience (arising from a new "level of aspiration", in the language of modern psychologists) immediately throws into striking relief the political nature of the powerful instrument which in our own time will complete the transformation of Latin America. Indeed, the political system of parties, which succeeded to the old agrarian structure of the regions, is as outmoded today as the hacienda system from which it sprang.

Foreign observers tend to describe as a Latin American mania what they themselves like to judge as one form or another of state dirigisme. This, however, is not really the case. The fact is, rather, that we are witnessing the rise of new ruling classes—of another "political class", both dynamic and modern.

One would have to be blind not to see that the past few years have produced an accumulation of economic knowledge, both theoretical and practical, such as should enable the aspiration to development to advance from the stage of indefinite desire to that of definite achievement. Needless to say, economic development is not the sole problem that besets a nation, but it is one of those "privileged" questions of the present-day world, around which a multitude of other questions, seemingly remote and no less important, tend to cluster. In any case, development implies the need for clear-cut programmes and their systematic implementation—or, in other words, aims and methods, goals and the instruments for their attainment. The formula may vary, but it is evident that the new parties required by the future Latin American system, which is now taking shape, can only find their practical justification in the tenor of their respective proposals concerning this programming. In future, only the class that possesses a body of clear ideas on this problem will be supported as the authentic ruling class. In the last pages of this study an endeavour will be made to cover this ground, if only in a hurried and perhaps no more than thought-provoking way.

1. Is There Only One Formula for Development?

Not long ago a French economist began an interesting article⁴¹ with the following apposite remark: "Aprés avoir exporté ses valeurs, l'occident exporté aujourd'hui ses complexes. Inquiet de ne plus être suivi, il veut en effect être imité". We should, however (even those of us who have a taste for Gracián) be careful to avoid the dangerous snare of this subtlety. On the contrary, emphasis should be laid on the general agreement concerning the central argument of this section, even though in the title it is put in the form of a question. It would take a long time to recount the history of this conviction, and its story would fill a large volume which may never be written. We shall touch upon some of its elements in abridged form. For the moment the author trusts he may be excused for simply sketching some of the main lines of the aforementioned history, 1or the benefit, he repeats, of a public that is not made up of economists.

All of the increasingly abundant literature on economic development that has to be taken into account for one reason or another by recent bibliographers has been obliged to follow, straight or zigzag, one of the following three paths: (a) that of strict economic theory of development, from the venerable fathers of economic science, through the various phaseological theories of German thought, to the most modern post-Keynesian authors of one model or another, such as Harrod, Domar and other recondite econometrists; (b) that of the experience accumulated by historians (whether specializing in general, economic or social history) whose names need not be mentioned since they are as well known as they are numerous; (c) lastly, that of the modern typologies, of which one of the most often quoted contemporary authors is W. Rostow, together with a large group of opponents, from the mildest, such as R. Aron, to the most virulent and dogmatic, such as. A. Baran.

Anyone who has made this experiment as an "amateur" will be convinced that the counsels of theory and history are very diverse, but also that he has at his disposal a valuable "working tool" on the efficacy of which he can rely in whatever he is setting out to accomplish. The worth of the classical writers whose essential concern was not exactly the topic of development in its literal sense – rises or falls according to the validity of their general doctrine. Economic historians point to the extraordinary diversity of circumstances to which development is due in different countries: the spontaneous creative activity of a few private industrialists; or the influence of the State; or again the part played by the banking system, and the special "initiating" role of such widely differing sectors of industry as textile or silk factories, iron and steel works, lumbering, railway or shipping companies, etc., or a particular combination of those sectors.

On the other hand, how can we doubt the intellectual refinement of the most modern economic conceptions, the advances made in the "rationality" (predictability and computability) of the latest planning and programming techniques? With regard to the afore-mentioned models, to which the sociologist only objects from certain points of view, we may follow the initial thought of Professor Austruy⁴² when he says:

"Ils offrent un raccourci de certaines relations intéressantes à partir d'hypothèses convenablement choisies. Ils ne permettent, en aucun cas, de déterminer concrètement des critères économiques valables de rationalité de l'investissement."

Reference was made to this last statement in the first pages.of the present study, without any attempt to claim strict accuracy for it. Nevertheless, the sociologist's basic objection is to the problem contained in the above-mentioned "hypotheses". What is incredible to anyone who has made the foregoing excursion is the present-day insistence on proposing as the only two possible models the Soviet and the so-called "Western". (The former, in reality, is as Western as the latter—shades of Marx and Engels, excellent Germans, or of Saint-Simon and Fourier, undeniably French, and of others, Italian, Anglo-Saxon, Russian. It is, for good or evil, a common heritage.) Only the prevailing state of affairs can explain this shortsightedness. We have simply to glance at the history of economic development in Japan, for example, to realize that here is a people entirely outside the Western tradition. Is not something similar, in its originality, happening today in the development of modern India? And why can we South Americans not also claim to have made some original contribution, of value despite its "marginality"?

The lessons of theory and history, the abundance of technical tools available today, mean that we are faced with a number of options among which we must make a selection. The only requirement is that the final picture which is the result of these decisions must be clear and coherent. In any "adult" policy it is realized that contradictory things cannot be sought at one and the same time. Whatever the values that are chosen, they must be in tune with one another, aims must harmonize with means, and the secondary consequences of the action must be foreseen as far as possible.

Subject to these conditions, why should we not think that the new parties necessitated by the time, obedient to the general mandate of "programming", will be capable of formulating a modern system of clearly defined goals and procedures? Given the possibilities of economic development and their human and cultural implications, the new "political class" which is now beginning to take charge of the destinies of the Latin American countries will find itself faced with a series of dilemmas, and, according to the choice it makes, specific lines of action reflecting the inevitable differences and differentiations will automatically emerge. In all probability, these specific lines of action will not be numerous, but the necessity of making a choice is unavoidable. Here, as in other sectors of life, we must accept our "compulsory freedom to choose".

However, the term dilemma as used above is not quite accurate, since it is not a matter of irreconcilable opposites but of options from among possibilities that can be brought into harmony by prudent compromise. Let us then consider these options in economic development, according to the essential nature of their problems: technical, political and sociological. Since time presses, this will have to be done without any expression of opinion on the substance of the question and without dwelling on any of its ramifications. It must also be borne in mind that, as in any classification, reality, being unamenable to logic, permits of the transition without difficulty from one purely analytical division to another.

The following are some of the options presented by the technical problem of development, it being understood, further to our previous remarks, that they should mostly be regarded not as methods that must be adopted unchanged, but merely as a list of the main procedures that have hitherto been advocated or are still being advocated.

1. The first (and fundamental at this time) is the option dictated by our present "impatience" with history. On the one hand we must choose between the "big push", to be undestood in a far broader sense than in its strictly technical and doctrinal connotation as an extreme form of acceleration, and other slower, more restrained approaches leaving out of account, of course, the genuine hope pinned by some people on the gradual process of "community development" (which may none the less be useful in a supplementary way here and there), the more so since Latin America knew hundreds of years ago the venerable figure of Vasco de Quiroga and has also possessed since then the time-honoured institutions of the municipality and the parish. This economic option between the vigorous thrust and other slower forms of development (to demonstrate at least once the transitions that take place in real life between the most impenetrable analytical classifications) nevertheless gives rise to very complicated sociological problems. The "big push" not only involves violent change in certain sectors of the economy; it also implies a genuine social "upheaval" in regard to centres of population, the system of employment, and the accelerated training of efficient leaders. This is a question which has not as yet been sufficiently studied.

2. The second option is between the expansion of the primary industries and exports (agriculture and mining) and the encouragement of general industrial production.

3. The third technical problem in development is the delicate option between the sectors of industry that deserve greatest attention. The choice has to be made between light industries manufacturing consumer goods and heavy industries producing capital goods. It is a well-known fact that Soviet economic planning reversed the common European practice in this matter, giving the iron and steel industries priority over textiles. But there is no infallible recipe in this sphere. Heavy industry requires very special conditions, as regards resources, energy and profession qualifications, which are not to be found everywhere. Commenting on this point, R. Barre, in his exemplary and schematic analysis of the subject, admits that, wherever these conditions are found, the building-up of heavy industry gives great stimulus to expansion and "in the long run permits a much more rapid development of industries producing consumer goods".⁴³ Barre agrees in this respect with the following view expressed by M. Kaplan: "Thus, if the data can be believed, and if the analysis has been correct, the greater rate of increase of industrial output in the U.S.S.R. has been due, basically, not to differences in U.S.S.R.-United States rates of investment, but rather to differences in the direction of investment".⁴⁴

   It is for the economists, not for us, to deal with the complex ramifications of these problems.

4. The fourth option in the technical problems of development (if we may properly speak of an option in this case) is the one which some people currently put in the form of a dilemma: namely the choice between "stability" and "development". This problem, coupled with one of the most alarming for the lay- man (the problem of inflation), has lately been the subject of heated discussion intellectually speaking, especially in the case of Chile, though the same applies also to other countries. It will suffice to refer here to a study by J. Grunwald, which, under an impressive title —'The "Structuralist" School on Price Stabilization and Economic Development: the Chilean Case'⁴⁵—sums up the full implications of this problem and refers to the most important works on the subject. However, some economists regard this option as, in fact, a 'false dilemma'. In the opinion of Dr. Raúl Prebisch, for instance, the economic development of Latin America is not incompatible with its monetary stability, provided that the various countries are prepared to introduce a few structural changes in their economies as part of an over-all economic policy.⁴⁶

5. A fifth option would consist in deciding between an immediate redistribution of the present national income (i.e., the sum total of wealth) and waiting until economic development has begun to yield definite results before attempting any redistribution of the increased income in such a way as to diminish the previous inequalities.

6. A further option would be between a general, integrated economic policy and action tending to concentrate on some particular sector considered to have key or strategic importance. The form now taken by this option is reflected in publications on economic development (to which reference has already been made in the present study) as a choice between the so-called theory of balanced development and other theories stressing the dynamic importance of individual aspects of the process of development (Hirschman's theory being perhaps the most explicit).

7. Again, another quite different option, to which a certain theoretical importance is attached today, and which is implicit in other remarks contained When the resources in this study, should be stated more explicitly.⁴⁷ When the resources available are scanty, the choice is between "social" investments (housing for the people, for instance) or even more costly investments in the "social infra- structure" (likely eventually to yield opportunities for economic activity proner), on the one hand, and, on the other, direct investment in the strictly economic sectors (factories, transport, etc.).

8. In Latin America—perhaps to a greater degree today than in other under-developed areas—another option to be taken into account is that between "inde- perdent national development or else development based on the principle of integration within a given area or on some system of free trade between various countries.

9. Nor can we overlook the possibility of an occasional choice between having recourse to foreign capital as a spur to development and the opposite extreme of drawing exclusively on domestic capital.

10. Yet another option among the technical questions of development is that concerning the best distribution of certain economico-demographic situations, which is put in the following way, with a problematical note to it, in the economic recommendations made by the meeting of the Working Group held in Mexico City in December 1960: "We must also seek social integration through economic by trying to incorporate those regions in each country which have remained behind in the process, and it must be realized that an exaggerated stress upon a policy of regional equity might be incompatible with the acceleration of development of 96/ the over all economy".⁴⁸

11. In some Latin American countries, various quarters have advocated appropriation by the State of certain industrial undertakings and sectors of production which in the so-called capitalist countries are in private ownership (telephone, electrical power and ship-building companies, companies for the manufacture of certain types of motor vehicles, or sectors such as oil, coal, steel, transport, etc.)—in short, certain public services, natural resources and economic activities regarded as fundamental. And so, even without sweeping changes in the prevailing economic system, another option, still not clearly defined, has arisen. To take account of historical development, this may be described as the alternative between public and private ownership.

The political problems of development likewise involve a series of no less vital options:

1. It must first of all be decided whether preference is to be given to laissez faire or to State intervention; in other words, whether development is to be spontaneous or "induced" (an ugly word, if ever there was one!). The course of history has settled this question everywhere, and there are hardly any orthodox liberals of the old school left. Modern neo-liberals always speak of a market economy of a social character—sociale Marktwirtschaft—controlled and directed - by a state of law. The only point open to discussion is the nature and limits of the permissible intervention: support of the purity of the market within the system; ad hoc interventions in response to national or international problems; general direction of the economy; strict programming or total planning by State machinery. Quite apart from the centrally administered economies of the Soviet countries, the State everywhere else is always a Welfare State, the only distinction being that, as lfyrdal has pointed out, its role in rich and powerful countries is very different from the part it plays in the poorer and less developed ones.
2. The second political option—and this one is perhaps problematical, since it may be bound up with unavoidable economic realities—is the one between open or closed growth or, in other words, between dominant or satellite economies. It must be insisted that the choice is not a purely political one, yet there have been cases in history of obstinate preference for one of the alternatives, despite all the circumstances that appeared to militate against it.
3. The third option consists in the choice between the claims of power and those of the general weal; the various ways in which this dilemma has been formulated throughout the centuries may seem incomprehensible to some people, obsolete relics of a former age. For the time being, however, this dilemma is still being put, to the great distress of those who are not interested in such disputes. This option does not appear to have much meaning for Latin American countries, and the matter can in any case be solved by more or less tolerable compromises.
4. The last political option connected with economic development is certainly the gravest of all, especially for the countries of America, since the point is to decide on whom the heaviest burden of sacrifice shall fall. In its extreme forms, the question is one of choosing between the sacrifice of a few and a sacrifice shared by all.

In theory there is no way of getting round this problem without subterfuge, All economic development inevitably brings painful sacrifices in its wake. We have no intention here of going deeply into a theoretical (and, in final analysis, practical) problem of this kind or of ferreting through the teachings of history, which would be a heavy task, and often a rather distressing one. What is more, the subject lends itself, sad to say, to all kinds of demagogy. Calm and objective analysis, avoiding such histrionics like the plague, but duly mindful of the above-mentioned chastening conclusion of relentless theory, can show that a relatively equitable distribution of sacrifices may be attempted, even if the result is not ideal. Economists may have various solutions to recommend but these are technical matters outside our present scope. Politically speaking, the problem is one of justice, and the choice may perhaps involve sacrificing some of the best proposals in the interests of what is presumably the supreme aim, namely national assent and cohesion.

In the sociological sphere (if it is distinguishable from the political one in fact, though of course it is in theory) options and alternatives are likewise found:

1. The first decision to be taken is whether economic development should go hand in hand with attempts at major or minor reforms of the social structure, There are many fields in which the State can act, the first and most vital being education. However, we will not go into detail on this point.
2. It must also be decided, especially in the initial stage of development, whether a general spirit of discipline is to prevail, with the leaders themselves affording the first examples (history is full of instances of this) or whether we are to give ourselves up to the ordinary laxity and bonhomie to which the overwhelming majority of human beings are inclined. (Despite all fictions to the contrary, things are as they were with the worthy citizen of Seville who—the story goes—being upbraided by an Englishman for his laziness and given to understand that it was to months of labour that the latter owed his holidays abroad, replied, with simple logic: "But, sir, I was born in Seville".) Nevertheless, the economists are right, where present industrial societies are concerned, and they are endeavouring to find the strategy capable of stimulating output and a sense of responsibility and of creating the ambitions which give rise to social mobility.
3. Another alternative with regard to the sociological problems of economic development is the one which marks the distance between the apathy and indifference of the lower classes and, on the other hand, their decided support and enthusiasm. It should be mentioned that among the variety of representatives of the social sciences—economists and sociologists, political theorists, educationists and psychologists—there has never been greater unanimity than on this point. That is to say, all have borne witness to the fact that no lasting, effective economic development, at any rate in the long run, can be achieved unless it is supported by popular enthusiasm and participation. What such popular participation should be, from that of the smallest rural community to that of thickly inhabited cities, and how it is to be secured without the use of deceptive myths, are questions which cannot be discussed here. Suffice it to note the difference between the demagogue and the true statesman: the former encourages with the help of lies, and his successes can be spectacular, without a doubt; the latter stimulates and supports with the help of truth, though the road to his achievements, during his lifetime, is hardly marked by a series of triumphal arches. Let us hope that the new political class now in process of formation may consist for the most part of real statesmen.

The foregoing hasty enumeration of the chief options and alternatives in economic development makes no claim to originality. It is purely intended to show how, through a logical incorporation of some of these options, the new parties of the industrial era can build up new ideologies to replace the old, worn-out formulas, already remote from real problems of our time.

These new political parties and the ruling classes which will, as always, have inspired them will have ample material at their disposal if they wish seriously to confront the threefold process of social transformation in present-day Latin America: its economic development, the completion of national integration in each country and the initiation of the supranational structures which afford the only guarantee of its political and cultural survival in the troubled circumstances of the modern world. But, to confine ourselves to the problem of economic development with which we are here chiefly concerned, it should be pointed out that in economics the amount of knowledge already. accumulated is sufficient to enable the big parties to select, from the wealth of its propositions, the basic elements of their ideology. This ideology of development (without which they will not enjoy popular support) may be expected to vary only in regard to the following points or, if preferred, in the greater or lesser emphasis laid upon them: (a) tempo; (b) mechanisms involved; (c) distribution of sacrifices; (d) greater or lesser intensity of its popular appeal. Within a liberal democracy (where extreme parties will of course exist) the prophecy may be ventured (and this has no connexion with theoretical or sentimental preferences)—that "bipartisme du XXe siècle" will soon have to replace the old "bipartisme du XIXe siècle", to borrow once more M. Duverger's expression.

Despite what was said earlier about the mistakenness of believing in the absolute need for certain forms of economic growth (and despite a certain admiring curiosity about the creative ability of Japan or India), we should not be moving with our times if, resisting the prevailing trend, we failed to give some attention to the models which claim predominance. By "some attention" is meant the minimum required for a practical examination of the question, which is the main purpose of these pages. We shall therefore consider first the Soviet and then the Western formula, though this must necessarily be done with the utmost brevity.

2. The Soviet Model

Concerning the Soviet Model, let us now turn our attention to the Soviet formula—held in veneration by some people and in horror by others though we can only touch briefly on certain points.

A few decades ago the 1917 Revolution was repeatedly said to be failing in its aims in the very sector that concerns us, namely, economic development. It was generally prophesied that the production targets—qualified as unattainable by the other side—would never be reached, and that with this failure the whole politico-social system so recently set up would crumble. With the passage of time, however, almost all trace of this attitude has disappeared. On the contrary, the manifest economic success of the régime is admitted on all sides. There is no point in our producing a mass of indices and rates: economic and cultural indices, rates of annual increase in the gross product, indices of industrial production coal, petroleum, electricity, steel, machinery - or indices of the annual productivity per inhabitant. It is both unnecessary and impossible to give these here. Even the expert may have difficulty in threading his way through a maze of figures which rarely coincide, while the layman is bound to be floored in the end by his inability to tackle the reconversion of real and nominal valutas and values. Suffice the sheer fact that there is general agreement on the positive achievements of Soviet economic development (though dark patches subsist, as in the case of agriculture, likewise generally recognized). The recent spectacular triumphs in the technical and scientific domain represented by the conquest of outer space have effectively stifled the gravest doubts of the most sceptical. However, the layman has to Contend with an additional difficulty in the recondite sphere of economics, in that he cannot rely on academic interpretations contained in official documents for the purposes of comparison with those interpretations to which he is accustomed. As F. Perroux perspicaciously remarks: "La représentation de son système économique que chaque société préconise et répand par les voies de la pédagogie et de l'enseignement, est séduisante, singulierement en ce qu'elle est trop logique. Ce serait un exercise excellent de comparer aux statistiques et documents officiels russes le Manuel de l'Economie édité à Moscou et de procéder à la même épreuve en ce qui concerne les Etats-Unis, pour l'un des ouvrages de large audience qui ont la faveur du parti répu- blicain; nous pensons, sans aucune intention critique ni prejorative, à l'économie en une leçon de M. H. Hazlit.⁴⁹ Mutatis mutandis, the comparison would, of course, be equally valid for other books. This quotation from Perroux has not, however, been made lightly, and further on we shall see the reason for it. We would merely stress the essential point of this paragraph: the advance of the Soviet economy.⁵⁰

In contrast to earlier and now out-of-date problems, others, more complicated and more profoundly theoretical, are now exercising the best minds, though as is natural, these do not as yet come within the sphere of popular knowledge. The point in question is that of the supposed convergence, sooner or later, of the two systems which now appear to be diametrically opposed a convergence connected, on the one hand, with the extremely technical problem of so-called economic rationality, and on the other, with the practical mechanisms and solutions to which both economies have recourse.

Some years ago (the controversy may have begun with Max Weber's criticism of the theory of O. Neurath) it was thought that the chief stumbling-block in any socialist economy consisted in the difficulty of finding a basis for calculation. The essence of free economy was the rational basis of calculation which permitted the free operation of the market; the elimination of this market would preclude the continuation of what Weber called the "formal rationality" of the economic process. It would be out of place to summarize here the details of this prolonged and highly intricate controversy, which, moreover, now seems completely out of date.

It is most probable that, in the first years, Soviet planners proceeded empirically, using the familiar method of trial and error; little by little, however, they perfected their methods, and today they possess a body of doctrine which, in respect of calculability, of economic rationality, gives the dominant procedures of the East and the West the same value. The publication of the book by Oskar Lange⁵¹ has, apparently, put an end to this question. Nor are works of reference lacking on the subject of this convergence in the material aspects of the economic process as between the Soviet and the Western worlds. One of the most elaborate theoretical works is, perhaps, that of F. Ferroux, in his book La Coexistence Pacifique, and more particularly in the second of its three volumes.⁵² On the other hand, it may be of interest to refer rapidly to another less familiar interpretation. In the

opinion of Erik Boettcher,⁵³ a recognized specialist in Soviet affairs, this convergence is a consequence of the fact that the U.S.S.R. is now in the intensive phase of its industrialization. In the first, the so-called extensive phase, the effort had to depend on a rapid expansion of the labour force in the modern sector of the economy. Because of events which Boettcher carefully analyses and which have reduced the available supply of manpower, reliance can no longer be placed on the earlier expansion, and the Soviet leaders will have henceforth to count mainly on a rapid average increase in worker productivity and on the stimulus of technological modernization, including, as may be expected, automation. According to Boettcher, the transition from the "extensive" to the "intensive" phase signifies profound changes in all aspects of Soviet life. It will approximate (and it is this point that interests us at the moment) the dominant features of the two opposing economic systems, both now in a similar intensive phase. Whether or not this theory is wholly admissible—and it has, of course, its critics—there is no doubt that it constitutes a substantial endeavour to demonstrate the possibilities of convergence with which we are now concerned.

There is also, as might be expected, another kind of convergence, which is currently of very special interest to the sociologist, namely, convergence in the social structure. For the time being, this exhibits the uniform physiognomy of all the advanced industrial societies; it also gives rise to hopes of a political nature, but these are less certain than those offered by a sober and objective verification of the above mentioned structural rapprochement.

As regards the kinship in structural physiognomy, the point seems too obvious to require convincing proof. Much time moreover would be taken up in providing it. We should have to examine in detail the employment pattern, the distribution of income, the emergence of similar psycho-social types on the technical side (factories and workshops) or on the administrative side of industry, to consider the formation of the most important social strata, the extent of social mobility and the advent of "images" of the different classes; to explain the organization of the educational system and the trends in technical and general education; to approach in the manner of Alex Inkeles the problem of the psychological structure of "industrial" and the relationship between his status and the facts of experience, of psychic perception and the acceptance of one or other set of values. A no less essential matter would be to know how the élites are formed and what are their chief characteristics. Nor should we omit to inquire how the average Soviet citizen—the "poor fellow" (Ortega) like the rest of us—lives, endures and thinks.

There is an abundance of material, and the task has been carried out with varying degrees of success by different people. There is nothing astonishing in this coincidence. Modern industrial societies, be they Scandinavian, Anglo-Saxon, German or Latin (apart from national and cultural idiosyncrasies, all resemble one another in their social structure, though this does not, of course mean that there is strict conformity between them on all points.⁵⁴ And this sort of social structure is sometimes achieved—for better or for worse—whatever the mode of the economic development.⁵⁵

54See Pitirim A. Sorokin, "Mutual Convergence of the United States and the U.S.S.R. to the Mixed Social Cultural Type", International Journal of Comparative Sociology, Karwatak University, Dharwar (India), Vol. 1, N° 2. Here, too, it would be senseless to hurry in selecting a biblio- graphy on the subject; a start has been made by R. Aron, with his brilliant "journalistic" talent (as a few pedantic little sociologists would consider it), in his courses at the Sorbonne, concerning the formation of the élites; there is an interesting issue of the periodical Dedalus (Summer 1960): and, concerning the common man, readers can choose between the "impressionism" of Klaus Mehnert, Der Sowjetmensch, Stuttgart, Deutsche Verlags-Anstalt, 1958, and the complicated techni- cality of Alex Inkeles and R.A. Bauer, The Soviet Citizen, Harvard University Press, 1959. See also D. Granick, The Red Executive: a Study of the Organization Man in Russian Industry, New York, Doubleday, 1960. (Compare with White, Bendix and Bahrat.)

55 There is also a kind of convergence or approximation à rebours, which has been dealt with in one of the boldest, most ingenious (and most criticizable) articles published in recent years. This is the study by Siegfried Landshut, "Die Gegenwart im Lichte der Marxischen Lehrė", Hamburger Jahrbuch für Wirtschafts-und Gesellschaftspolitik, Year 1). In the view of this renowned sociologist, the profoundest predictions of Marx have come true precisely in the most advanced (non-Marxist) industrial societies of our time, rather than in Soviet Russia. ("Die Wahrheit der Marxischen Analyse: die Zukunftsgesellschaft als heutige Wirklichkeit" The truth of the Marxian analysis: the future society qua contemporary reality. The sub-title is very thought-provoking.) The article contains three fundamental ideas: (a) "alienation", a basic Marxist concept, is already a reality in our industrial society, in its organizations and its masses (public opinion and technological progress are clear cases of independent forces, subject to an inexorable Elgengesetzlichkeit); (b) the prediction of Alexis de Tocqueville the progressive levelling of all strata - has been largely fulfiled, which is to say, in Marxist parlance, that the prediction of a classless society is beginning to triumph in all the Western industrial societies: it should be observed that the celebrated class-consciousness is slowly dying out in various places because of the 'general rise in living standards and expectations and the formation of a broad layer of equivalent intermediate incomes; (c) simultaneously with this decline of the old "class" society, we are witnessing the withering of the principle of nationality and the ideology of the "political" State, the latter gradually turning into an administrative entity, serving a society which is capable of governing itself. "Political thought is now directed beyond the nation towards other complexes, wider in their scope... To the extent that the bourgeoisie, the propertied and cultured class, becomes absorbed into the general "unitary society", the nation likewise ceases to be the soil from whence springs its greatness and its glory." (Ibid., p.51.) The critics will say how much of this derives from intellectual fantasy and how much from observation (hasty, perhaps) of some features of contemporary European life.

Does this approximation or convergence in the social structure denote, however, a foreseeable liberalization of the Soviet world and its approximation, likewise, to similar forms of political life? The "economism" which is so widespread in our time inclines many people to believe so, and to think sociologically speaking that there is a correlation between economic welfare and liberal democracy. Since we shall have later on to consider this notion from the point of view of "Western democracy", it will be well to make some reference to the other economism (frowned upon as it is in this connexion) to the formal Marxist economism.

The names of many theorists suggest themselves, but the best-known theory on this subject is that of Isaac Deutscher, which, while amounting to a total interpretation of the Russian Revolution and more particularly of its Stalin phase, reaches the conclusion that Marx's expectations (the most authentic socialism) will be progressively fulfiled in step with the growth and development of the productive forces. Many of the mistakes and deeds of violence (grievous, for the most part) that occurred in the Stalin period can be explained in short, apart from some historical and personal contingencies, by the phase of industrialization that Russia was traversing at the time. However, the country's productive forces are now almost full grown, and it may be expected that, at a not far distant date, its political system will also attain to adult liberal democratization which it has not so far known.

It is understandable that thinkers and politicians of another persuasion should nourish and voice such a hope. But there is no guarantee that the "correlation" on which such convictions rest is a fact and has been absolutely proved in all times and circumstances. Nor should it be forgotten—since this hope implies other illusions and desires that even though events may one day show our doubts to be groundless and this parallelism to be a certainty, it cannot therefore be assumed that the power conflict which now troubles us will be automatically settled. It is a matter of common knowledge that, since the days of Cain and Abel, the worst conflicts have always been those arising between brothers.

The foregoing considerations refer to objective situations which can readily be verified and accepted. And one would have to be blind not to recognize the power of attraction which these Soviet achievements, apart from the question of doctrine, exert on all sides and especially among the historically least favoured peoples in the broad zone of the underdeveloped countries. This is a lesson which does not seem to be as well learnt as it ought to be.

Neither is this the last word for those who in some sort are and feel themselves to be the heirs of old Europe. The best chronicles of its long history tend finally to explain the secret of its strength and the beauty of its creative work by the fact that Europeans have always known how to maintain a division between their chief powers: Church and empire, monarchy and nobility, third estate and bourgeoisie, intellectuals and men of law, letters and arms, science and religious beliefs.

The sociological precipitate of this incomparable tradition of the whole European world is the consistently differentiated structure of its ruling élites—a tradition only momentarily obscured during the ominous but short-lived periods when totalitarianism prevailed. (Croce, however, was writing freely in the years before Mussolini embraced Nazism.) There has always been a manifold variety in the ruling classes of Europe; this has not at all times made social life easy, and it has on occasion jeopardized the national cohesion. In this as in so many other respects, Latin America has often remained faithful to the European tradition.

One of Aron's merits in shaking up old concepts which were lying dormant on account of the timid hostility aroused by the so-called Machiavellians, has been to show where are the advantages (and disadvantages) of the political and ruling classes in the Soviet and the European worlds. The following are his remarks on the pouvoir spirituel: "A notre époque, le pouvoir spirituel est partagé entre ou disputé par trois sortes d'hommes, les prêtres, les intellectuels et les idéologues des partis. Un regard sur les régimes, soviétique et occidental, suffit pour apercevoir une différence fondamentale dans les relations structurelles des catégories dirigeantes: selon la formule soviétique, se sont les idéologues du parti qui proclament la vérité suprême et enseignent ce qui est sacré. Les prêtres sont tenus officiellement en piètre estime et les intellectuels doivent souscrire à la vérité idéologique, plus ou moins étendue selon les 104/ moments et les hommes."⁵⁶

Surely this is an apology pro vita sua, shared by another "humble and wandering" intellectual, if I may use an expression of Pio Baroja's. But what applies in the case of spiritual authority applies also in regard to other forms of power. Obviously no perfect régimes, no flawless moments, have ever existed - not even in the Athens of Pericles but in Europe the whole effort has been directed towards maintaining a minimum of equilibrium as far as the Church is concerned and a separation between the powers: civil and military, temporal and spiritual, political and economic, administrative and parliamentary. The good times were those when this could be achieved: the bad were those marked by confusion or by the temporary predominance of one or other power. May the shade of Guizot bless these lines and the undoubted preferences emerging from them. There always comes a time when we are obliged to make a value judgment, unrelated to science except, perhaps, the science of history, which, according to Ortega y Gasset, is the most fraught with the future for that etymological being man, whether he accepts it and understands it or whether he rejects it without under- standing it. The totalitarian formulae, Soviet and other, may be more efficacious in many eventualities, but a man who is heir to the best European tradition will always prefer the possibility of dialogue or, to put it another way, he will prefer the perhaps intangible value of legitimacy to the pragmatism of efficiency.

But, lest we be tempted for a moment to forget the other forces and powers, it might be well to ponder the words of a young Marxist philosopher, author of a fascinating book: "The conversion of Marxism into a fetish, its debasement into a conventional apologetic ornament, suitable only for the facade of society, results in its becoming the poison of intellectual life instead of being its life-blood. In the last resort, it can also be used as a precision instrument for beating heads. For the development of the instruments of theory, what is needed is not new "formulations" which can be learnt by heart, but rather an objective analysis possessing real technical value of the new—and likewise of the old—social phenomena. For this purpose, confidence must be had in the knowledge of scientists and in the socialist conscience of intellectuals; otherwise it is impossible to banish the mythology of spiritual life, the blindness and irresponsibility of politics, the superstition of moral life, or any other factors of retrogradation in human life."⁵⁷

This young Polish philosopher is not speaking solely for his own circumstances, on the Eastern side. Europe, the United States and the whole of Latin America would have nothing to lose and everything to gain if this piece of theoretical reasoning were thoroughly absorbed both by the best elements of their ruling classes and by their true intellectuals.

This debasement of terms which we all deplore restricts their daily use; we blush to write them. The noblest words which man has invented are like knives dulled by use; the high concepts which they should enshrine become battered; a living reality which calls for clear-cut ideas is hardly more than nicked at. Unfortunately, no word has been more weakened in this way than "freedom". It must nevertheless be invoked once more, in the hope of perceiving its original meaning. And, since the name of Benedetto Croce has already been mentioned, we may perhaps conclude these remarks with a quotation from a brilliant passage by another illustrious Crocian, Carlo Antoni:

"Ma quale è oggi la verità, che ci deve guidare come una nuova stella polare della civiltà? Malgrado le aberrazioni e le confusioni, mi sembra di ravvisarla: è la verità che tutto cio che nel mondo ha valore, quanto vi è di bello, di vero, di buono, di utile, è prodotto della libera attivita di quell'universale spirito che si manifesta, si attua, si realizza soltanto negli individui cine della libertà creatrice, che fà dell'uomo une persona. E una verità semplice e chiara, cui conducono tutte le correnti del pensiero moderno, che, anzi, proviene dalle origini stesse, classiche è cristiane, della nostra civilta, ma non à una verità ovvia, che sia oggi, senz'altro, presente ed operante nelle coscienze. non significa soltanto che tutti gli ordinamenti politici, sociali, giuridici devono essere al servizio della liberta creatice delle energie degli uomini, per difenderla e per promuoverla, ma significa une ben più proford a liberazione da miti e da idolatrie: da quei miti che proiettano e ogget- tivano il valore etico fuori dalle coscienze soggettive in enti trascendenti, lo Stato, la Nazione, la Società, la Storia, danno ad essi tutto il diritto, ed asserviscono, nel loro interno, le coscienze stesse, tolgano a queste cio che Emanuele Kant chiamava la bellezza e dignità dell'anima umana¹ Se si pensa alle atroci, orrende esperienze, che il nostro secolo ci ha rocato, si vede quanto lontani siamo ancora da quella verità e da questa liberazione."⁵⁸

3. Remarks on the Western Formula

A mere statement of principle, a parenthesis concerning a preference within a value judgement, or an attenuation of Weberian rigorousness on which we modern, if not contemporary, generations are perhaps agreed, will not in themselves solve the substantive problem. With the closing of the parenthesis, therefore, it behoves us to return, as far as possible, to the neutrality of scientific analysis. Following our brief consideration of the Soviet model, let us now turn our attention to the "Western formula".

The scientific problem consists essentially in knowing whether the traditional democratic system is or is not compatible (and to what extent) with the requirements of economic development (and this is not only in general), but with particular reference to those countries that are in the early stages of their economic development or are endeavouring to speed it up. At the most abstract levels, that is, at the highest levels of theory, the solution of the problem would give rise to a strict philosopheme, since the proposition involved is to inquire into the possibilities of convergence or harmony between political "rationality" and economic "rationality". But we do not propose to embark here on the analytical effort of clarifying this question, which has been literally stated in this manner by various writers; it seems wiser to keep to more solid ground and deal with matters closer to common experience.

Why insist on considering the "Western" formula? Why embark on what to people may seem a defense? We would point out that we are concerned here not with questions of value but with questions of fact. The first and most obvious fact is that we are and feel ourselves to be Westerners. To avoid triteness, however, let us recall a way of formulating the idea in stricter and more technical terms. In a footnote near the beginning of the present study, reference was made to the outline given by R. F. Behrendt⁵⁹ of the kinds of proportion required in any economic development that is rationally planned, or "induced", to use an expression of doubtful elegance. According to Behrendt, the second kind of proportion required in economic planning is the proportion between, on the one hand, numerical considerations (Rechenhaftigkeit) concerned with achieving the maximum yield through the use of the best technical processes available, and, on the other, the deliberate planning of a gradual and lasting social development which takes account of "social" continuity and stability—that is to say, which takes account as far as possible of the institutions and traditions existing in the country in question. it is a fact that the Latin American countries possess and preserve their own traditions, including their long-standing preferences for personal and political freedom and for democratic participation—despite the difficulties and deficiencies which have obstructed this historic vocation.⁶⁰

The second fact is patent from the very existence of these pages, whose author, an apprentice in many matters, has persisted in expressing opinions and judgment that will by no means be generally welcomed. In other words, it is the fact of so-called "formal democracy". The present author is in agreement with many of the criticisms of this concept and of the reality (uncertain at times) which it covers. which it covers. However, so long as it exists in the smallest degree, so long as it is not just a hobby-horse for the writer or teacher but a reality, manifests, for instance, in the freedom of the worker to read the daily news, according to his choice, in the communist or the reactionary press, the fact subsists and it is with it that we are now concerned.

Lastly, there is the fact that, whether we like it not not, we are living in countries where, for the most part, there are several political parties and where there is also the possibility of continual exchanges between them and of a desire on their part for compromise in all spheres (numerous in our times, with so many practical problems claiming attention) where this is feasible. The foregoing simple facts, apart from any theoretical considerations or value judgments justify our acknowledged interest in the "Western formula" with regard to the problems of development. But let us consider, at some leisure, a few of the questions— not all rosy of course—arising in this connexion.

Over the past few years, a very extensive bibliography has grown up on the subject of democracy and development.⁶¹ It is not difficult to understand why this has happened. The underdeveloped areas, about which so much is being said and written in these days, afford not only a natural field for economic experiments (and we need not speak of the different interests involved) but also a field for intensive political innovations in the strictest sense of this term. Ancient civilizations are finding themselves obliged to modernize their political façades to suit the economic changes they are undergoing. In the present case, we are chiefly interested (from the point of view of their intellectual signification, of course) in those countries that are following or trying to adopt "Western" models, or else are, as is most often the case (especially in Africa), obliged to solve conjointly and at breakneck speed the problems of their national organizations superimposed on still surviving tribal structures, and the problems of their political and constitutional organization, in addition to the problems raised by an economic structure suddenly placed in their hands.

Besides this abundant literature, a number of international meetings have been held to examine the subject, including a meeting organized in Munich, in 1960, by the International Institute for Differing Civilizations (INCIDI), to consider the question of the ruling classes in the under- developed countries, and a seminar held at Wageningen (Netherlands) to discuss the theme "Leadership in the Non-Western World".⁶² The present author had the privilege of attending a meeting at the University of Chicago (the North American Conference on the Social Implications of Industrialization and Technological Change) where, inter alia, the subject with which we are now concerned was discussed in an excellent atmosphere of intellectual harmony.⁶³

At these meetings, as in most of the books and articles referred to, ample information is offered on Uganda, Ghana or Dahomey, on Iraq, Lebanon or the Maghreb, on Laos, Burma or Indonesia, and so forth; but scarcely anything is said about Latin America. This does not indicate lack of interest, but rather a realization that the situation there is very different On the other hand, at the meeting in Mexico City (December 1960) to study the social aspects of economic development, interest in the subject was so lively that other matters were almost swamped proof of an awareness shared by Angle-Saxons and Latins alike. However, for various reasons which need not be considered here, the question could not be analysed as it should have been. Reference is made to the chief of these reasons in the statement contained in the report of the Working Group to the effect that objective scientific knowledge of political facts in Latin America still does not offer any sure basis for making specific recommendations, and even the theoretical aspects have not been sufficiently explored.⁶⁴

In studies on economic development, whether in our part of the world, or elsewhere, the biggest part has hitherto been played by the economists, as was to be expected. It would have been unfair to ask them to concern themselves in addition with other related questions, despite the importance of some of those questions and the encyclopaedic calibre of some outstanding economists (such as Shumpeter, to mention only one).

There is a growing interest in analysing the problem in some of its most important aspects and ramifications that are not technically economic, and this has led to co-operation with specialists in other branches, not only in the social sciences. It has also opened up useful channels for the study of a number of facets that have hitherto been overlooked. An instance of this is afforded by the above-mentioned intellectual activity, which has produced so much material in so short a time. But there is no doubt that the study of economic development in its political aspect is the most decisive and important of all. That this study has not so far been pursued with all the desirable thoroughness is due to certain characteristics of political science, which it would be well to recall, if we may be permitted sociology of science. For there is no question to make a few remarks on the sociology of science. of this discipline being per se, for constitutive reasons, scientifically behindhand compared, not only with economics, but also with sociology itself.

To confine our remarks to the latter science, politics and sociology tend to flourish at very different moments in the social situations recorded by history. Political science (in its strictly scientific aspect, be it understood) has perhaps so far been, in contradistinction to sociology (which finds its greatest stimulus, at least as far as its major themes are concerned, in periods of storm and crisis),, a science of quiet and secure times. A glance at an up to date political science catalogue will suffice to convince us that its most complicated research techniques and most strictly scientific themes - the pursuit, for instance, of the most unsuspected correlations - are to be observed in the countries of maximum political stability, such as the United States of America, the United Kingdom (perhaps, to a lesser extent), and, especially, the Scandinavian countries. Elsewhere (and we need not think only of those countries whose circumstances impose a discreet silence) the situation is very different. A courageous writer has not hesitated to announce the existence in his country of "un bilancio lamentevole: il sottosviluppo della scienza política en Italia".⁶⁵

Let us not be blinded by vanity; let us rather admit, with similar modest courage, that Latin America (with the possible exception of Brazil)⁶⁶ also suffers from this sottosviluppo. In no other problem is this state of backwardness so apparent as in the one with which we are concerned. It is desirable—and every effort should be made to this end—aforesaid deficiency be speedily made good, with objectivity and by means of the most suitable research techniques. Moreover, there is no advantage if, under a mistaken illusion of being up to date in the most complicated of these techniques, we fail to tackle the most important problems by other and simpler methods.

At this stage in the exploration of our subject and the writer is aware of his own "underdevelopment" in this respect - it is necessary to revert to a correlation mentioned earlier. The idea that democracy and economic welfare are parallel phenomena is met with today in statements of such widely varying context, from the scientific publication to the demagogic speech, that even the most diligent scholar must fail to make a passably selective (still less a complete) collection of them. In fact, besides being time-consuming, such an undertaking would produce little of value. It is sometimes best to content oneself with the most satisfactory expression of an opinion; therefore, although, given man's fallibility, we can never be absolutely sure, it is fitting to refer, in what follows, to the finest attempt at formulating the question and testing it where possible.

Seymour Martin Lipset, in the book already mentioned,⁶⁷ has a chapter entitled "Economic Development and Democracy". While certainly an essay, this is supported by a number of tables and bibliographical references. It seems unnecessary to give any of the tables here. The main argument is as follows:

1. Democracy is directly related to the state of economic development. more well-to-do a society, the greater the chances that it will sustain democracy and consequently, a society divided between an impoverished mass and a small favoured élite results either in oligarchy (dictatorial rule of the small upper stratum) or in tyranny (popular-based dictatorship).

2. Economic development, producing increased income, greater economic security and widespread higher education, largely determines the form of the "class struggle" by permitting those in the lower strata to develop longer time-perspectives and more complete and gradualist views of politics.

   "A belief in secular reformist gradualism can be the ideology only of a relatively well-to-do lower class," says Lipset. "Striking evidence for this thesis can be found in the relationship between the patterns of working- class political action in different countries and the national income, a correlation, that is almost startling in view of the many other cultural, historical, and juridicial factors which affect the political life of nations."⁶⁸

3. However, wherever industrialization occurs rapidly, introducing sharp discontinuities between the pre-industrial and industrial situation, more rather than less extremist working-class movements emerge. Besides a countercheck, this provides confirmation of the possibilities, described earlier of so-called "mass situations".

Nevertheless Lipset, who can be called anything but a "sophisticated egghead", takes precautions against the deficiencies of this correlation believed to be beyond question, and in a brief methodological appendix he gives some explanations on the subject.

This sociologist, in an important study⁶⁹ published at a later date, repeats some of these ideas, but explains more explicitly where the real key to any possible deficiencies in the correlation may be found. His most incisive remarks should be quoted textually since they embrace the Latin peoples of different speech.

"The unstable political structure of the major southern and Latin countries of Europe—France, Italy and Spain—seems to be mainly due to economic and social factors retarding the growth of large-scale, modern industry. This failure has kept alive the tendency of the bourgeoisie to look to the traditional pre-industrial upper classes for models of behaviour."

"Despite considerable social mobility,⁷⁰ the status-barrier between the bourgeoisie and the peuple, and the gradations within the bourgeoisie itself, are meticulously preserved. The business classes often preserve a semi-feudal outlook, emphasizing the stability of family property, and the firm takes the place of land in pre-capitalist society, providing the material basis for family prestige .... There is a traditionalist hostility to collective bargaining, or any form of labour legislation which would acknowledge the equality of the worker in the economic market. The working classes, therefore, unable to build strong, legitimate unions or secure permanent "citizenship" rights within industry, continue to maintain those attitudes of alienation from the body politic which are characteristic of workers in most countries during the period of initial industrialization.⁷¹

This in some ways typically Anglo-Saxon image is noted here without comment, although it might perhaps not be acceptable, in some parts at least, to modern French and Italian sociologists. We must now return to the above- mentioned key to possible incongruities in the correlation in question. This is as follows: while it is true that the chances for democracy are greater in the more well-to-do countries because in those countries internal tensions are less (though some people may entertain doubts on this score), owing to greater equality in the distribution of income, to education and to the prestige conferred by the existence of a relatively large middle class, it must nevertheless not be forgotten that democratic systems depend above all upon societies belief in the legitimacy of the élite, and these two conditions may obtain either jointly or independently—a point upon which Lipset has not laid sufficient stress.

Democracy is first of all a belief, an illusion some might say, a principle of legitimacy. Without this belief the poor peoples would have made no attempt to attain it; but it is also an establishment which may one day vanish in the plenitude (real or potential) of prosperity. To take a very recent case, nothing is more significant in this regard than the intense economic development that has come about in France during a period of extreme political instability, sometimes coming near to destroying its democracy. The example offered by Italy is perhaps similar though less striking. The correlation between wealth and democracy is conclusively demonstrated in some countries (more particularly the Scandinavian and Anglo-Saxon countries) but we do not really know to what extent this is due to wealth and to what extent to the continuing traditions of an admirable political education of long standing and to the secrets of basic temperament.

Nevertheless, there is some truth in the famous correlation between democracy and development, and we should not therefore dismiss lightly the idea that a general and fair distribution of relatively high average incomes is conducive to common sense and composure in political life. On the other hand, political instability is not synonymous with poverty. This brings us to the reproach often levelled against the Latin Americans (generally of Iberian stock) either by their own countrymen or by foreigners: political instability. It has even been said that in this part of the world there is a revolution every minute. If time allowed, we might very briefly summarize the various explanations offered of this notorious instability. The historians of course bring forward an abundance of theories - family rivalries, unavowable passions, legitimate but ill-fated ambitions, obvious cases of insanity, and, occasionally, mixtures of tragedy and farce. The sociologists base themselves on factors pertaining to "blood" or "spirit", as Sheler might say, but without neglecting their preference for purely "economic" factors. The most modern investigators resort to the evolvement of statistical formulae, the preparation of tables of indices indicators, and the more figures they produce the happier they are.⁷²

Although this instability is often a cause of alarm to foreign observers, and especially to nervous tourists or investors, the Latin Americans have hitherto (the reason for the italics will be seen later) generally accepted it with the utmost calm. On rare occasions there were genuine revolutions, and these "irregular" changes in the government of the country though doubtless deplorable from the standpoint of its constitutional law, allowed life to continue normally and took on an almost institutional character. While not identical, the situation here is comparable to that obtaining in France, with its Cabinet changes: behind the impenetrable complexities of the political game of chess at the Palais Bourbon, the French Civil Service went on calmly carrying out its duties, as if nothing had happened, maintaining, underneath so much apparent change, the real continuity of French life.

In the romantic period of Latin American history, revolutionary cliques—whether military or civilian—were responsible at times for the shedding of much blood, but without seriously affecting the fundamental structure of their countries. In later and more peaceful times, "Cabinet" revolutions affected daily life even less. But all this—and the point should be stressed—is past history, to which there is no return. And, just as in France, when the loss of popular prestige caused by frequent Cabinet changes happened to coincide with a grave national and international situation, the very survival of French democracy was jeopardized and there began a difficult interlude of which we have not yet seen the end, so in recent years our political instability has suddenly taken on a very different aspect. It is no longer possible to make light of instability, and this not only on account of dangers or fears which cannot appropriately be analysed here but also on account of a simple and decisive fact related to the question with which we are concerned. Economic development necessarily requires a minimum of political stability that is to say, of political continuity. The economic growth now taking place is possible only within a framework of definite planning, and there can be no planning without an assurance of calculability in other words, without the possibility of making the required forecasts. One of the foregoing remarks may perhaps give rise to misconceptions, which must now be cleared up: in modern democracies, political continuity does not mean the perpetuation of one or other political party but the pursuit of a policy (subject to such changes as may be dictated by circumstances in any plan or programme) agreed as far as possible by common consent or at least enjoying majority approval. We shall have later on to see what are the constitutional, technical and organizational difficulties arising, in more or less similar degree, in present-day industrial democracies or in Welfare States where these obtain. But, in offering the above explanation, we would emphasize as strongly as possible that the maintenance of political stability in Latin America is henceforth of capital importance.

There is another aspect of political instability in Latin America which may likewise be distressing to contemplate. For, in the long run, this instability points to a defective state of democracy (though not, of course, in all quarters and at all times). Experience of this, in so far as it affects one of their dearest notions, has sometimes proved more painful to the Latin American mind than the accustomed acceptance of numerous changes in the membership of governments. Apart from this humiliation, his own experience of the defects of democracy in his continent also brings the Latin American up against the classifications proposed by national or foreign theorists for the political situation in the countries of Latin America classifications liable to accentuate the aforesaid state of mind. - Among the simplest of these classifications is the one which distinguishes between the different countries according to the predominance in them of one of the following four situations: stable democracy, stable dictatorship, unstable democracy, unstable dictatorship. But there are of course other more complicated classifications, using every variety of symbolism and allowing not the slightest loophole for delusion.⁷³

To deny the defects of democracy would be to behave like the proverbial ostrich. However, the good Latin American should not be left without some consolation and justification, and to this end we must call upon history. On the one hand, there is the history of Latin America itself, which includes some comparatively long periods when democracy has functioned in one or other of the countries with gratifying smoothness. On the other, we have the history of the development of democracy in those countries which offer the best examples of it today. At best At best (having regard to the experience accumulated over the centuries in Europe) the story would go back to far-off mediaeval times (we refer here to Aragon and England) and, after noting a whole series of ups and downs, would bring us almost to our own times with a description of democracy's latest achievements: universal suffrage (gradually evolved from the old electoral patterns), votes for women, types of "referendum", etc. It would also show that, even in the European example, equal progress was not always made everywhere; there was lagging on many occasions. To attempt such an account here would be superfluous, since it is to be found in any good books on political history, so long as they are not written ad usum Delphini. But in no case should such an attempt be made with the object of blinding ourselves to reality, which it is the duty of every adult to face squarely.

Therefore, once the existence of defects is admitted, we may with advantage consider the structure of a more or less model case and that of another which, though less exemplary, may be instructive for our purpose. We will avoid the obvious temptation to select the United Kingdom, not only because this case is so widely known (despite its undeniable complexity and "singularity") but also because the present study is concerned with Latin America and there is no doubt that, taking the American continent as a whole, the model offered by the United States is spectacular.

The question is: How can the democratic stability of this country be explained? No educated North American believes or maintains that United States democracy is perfect, without blemish, that it has no need of improvement or rectification in many respects. For nothing human is perfect. But the intelligent North American cannot fail to wonder what is the reason for the political stability of this country, so vast in size and composed of such diverse elements. Many answers have, of course, been provided by political scientists and sociologists. We refer to one of these, not because of professional bias but because of its precision and conciseness. The author is a (presumably) young disciple of T. Parsons who has written one of the best and most authentic manuals of sociology from among the large (perhaps /even excessive) number available in English.⁷⁴ At one point in his work, the author asks the question propounded above, and offers an answer in accordance with the best teaching of his masters and, undoubtedly, with his own thought. The following is a summary of his reply, still further compressed by the present writer, who has, however, endeavoured to preserve its exact terms as far as possible.

To what can the stability of the "American" political system be attributed? Apparently, to the following series of facts: (a) there are very few citizens who have no means cy which to express their wishes effectively enough to influence the government (of course, there is the thorny question of the Negroes, but this is now becoming less acute in the south and is also being counterbalanced by the fact that the votes of Negroes in the north benefit those in the south and by the work of organizations set up for their protection); (b) political desires are expressed not only at election times but also through the action of "pressure groups" and other kinds of organizations or methods of manifesting interests and aspirations; (c) the organized groups that compete and conflict in politics are not, strictly speaking, distinct segments of the population pitted against one another (there is, indeed, much overlapping in their membership); (d) the institutionalization of role responsibility in office; (e) all but complete consensus regarding constitutional law, the party system and the electoral system (in particular, the almost mythical belief in the intangible value of the Constitution is universally known); (f) the ever-present possibility of the formation of "potential groups", that is, groups capable of mobilizing themselves, if occasion requires it, against actual groups and, consequently, of insisting upon observance of "the rules of the game". Naturally, Johnson also mentions the almost complete absence of religious conflict and the relative mildness of class conflict—a fact obviously making for the increased economic prosperity of the country.

With regard to the situation in Latin America the emphasis placed on various aspects of legitimacy is especially interesting. Since we have already referred at some length to the "materialistic" correlation between democracy and wealth, it is only fair now to turn to the "idealistic" version, which stresses the value of beliefs, the importance of long-accepted imponderables (value of the political system, value of legitimately constituted authority, value of the rules of the game, value of the dialogue between equals, value of the human significance of reasonable compromise).

With regard to the above-mentioned counterpart, our choice falls this time, without hesitation, not in America but in Europe. Let us take the case of Germany—a country in many respects no less admirable than the United States (comparisons would here be out of place) but whose democratic history has been, to say the least, scarcely edifying. Account should be taken not only of the disastrous years of the morbid Nazy régime, the origins of which may perhaps be explained by a complex of causes now widely known. We should also bear in mind the whole history of this unfortunate democracy since the melancholy days of the 1848 fiasco. What facts have we, to explain the situation, as precise as those listed above in respect of the United States? An article by Ralph Dahrendorf,⁷⁵ one of the most promising sociologists of our time (more than promising, indeed), will help us to establish some essential points.

The social structure of Germany (we are speaking of the Federal Republic) has not hitherto been very favourable to the consolidation of democracy, notably for the following reasons:

1. The continuous defection of the middle classes: the old one, in contradistinction to what had happened elsewhere, and despite its liberal ideas, was unable to act as the real support of the industrial revolution fomented in Germany (from 1871 to 1914) from above; the "new" middle class, hardly liberal, preferred to rely for the defence of its interests on the protection of the State.
2. Capitalism in Germany lacked the dynamism that characterized it in other countries (such as England and the United States) in so far as it was directed by State action. In this way (having regard to the differentiation and relative autonomy of the various institutions and élites mentioned earlier) there came about in Germany a certain confusion and imposition of authority. "In Germany, the State was the institution that set the dominant tone" Shumpeter, while in bourgeois societies, on the other hand, that tone was set by economic forces.
3. The tendency in Germany was to settle social conflicts not by means of discussion and compromise but by authoritarian methods—Utopian and totalitarian elements still, apparently, very difficult to banish.
4. The intellectuals were for the most part inclined towards "alienation", or, in current parlance, they displayed relatively little interest in the commonwealth with notable exceptions, of course. Germany, it is rare to meet intellectuals who are conscious of being members of their own society and prepared, in consequence, to face the realities of · "In its structure with the proper critical perspective."⁷⁶ The dreadful experiences of the Hitler régime, the war and the post-war period have brought about profound changes in the German social structure and therefore in the prospects of a truly democratic policy, which, apparently, is now beginning to take shape. At any rate, according to Dahrendorf, the possibilities have never been greater, and the future will show whether he is right in his prediction.

In this rapid summary, other facts and many subtle shades of thought presented by the German sociologist have been left out of account. What interested us was not so much to point the contrast with the foregoing interpretation of North American democratic stability, as to show the desirability, for Latin Americans, of reflecting on certain of the points referred to: for instance, on the role of the middle classes, whose dynamic autonomy is essential, even with the best conceived economic planning—in a democratic State, of course—; on the significance of the intellectual element to which reference has been made on different occasions: neither "adventurer capitalists" nor docile party hacks.

Many are the roads that lead to the achievement of "a democracy", and everything inclines one to think—to entertain more than a pious hope that the "new" political classes in Latin America will be capable of explicitly including in their doctrines the precepts necessitated by planning for economic development and displaying a capacity for compromise in their dealings with one another; but we cannot overlook the possibility of difficulties arising, if they do not succeed in securing enthusiastic popular support for proposals and aims which are generally acceptable to the bulk of the nation. R. Aron has drawn attention to the fact that the Ibero-American democracies, notwithstanding the prevalence of presidential régimes, really belong to the—Latin French or Italian—type rather than to the Anglo-Saxon type. (He has made this point on several occasions, to which we need not refer.) This similarity brings with it certain common perils, and here a literal quotation is advisable:

"La démocratie de type latin est celle qu'affaiblit le non- ralliement au régime d'une gauche communiste ou communisante et d'une droite autoritaire ou réactionnaire. Or, manifeste- ment, telle est la situation dans toute l'Amérique du Sud, aux prises avec d'extremes difficultés économiques et sociales. Là même où la phase des coups d'Etat militaires est dépassées, la phase suivante sera celle d'une guerre froide entre modérés et extrémistes - des deux bords non celle d'une stabilisation constitutionnelle."⁷⁷

We have thus come full circle with these observations on political stability in Latin America and, through no design of ours, with a return to the old pessimistic tone. Aron's remarks are extremely incisive and their basic - sociological content is, of course, debatable. - What is important is that they should be discussed their absolute or relative GND rightness does not concern us here, that they should be examined as objectively as possible by those Latin American leaders or intellectuals who are most conscious of their present responsibilities. Careful consideration of such statements - be they strictly accurate or not = may afford valuable guidance to the new ruling groups.

Now, this democracy we have been discussing is a phenomenon that has not remained unchangeable throughout the two hundred years or so of its existence. What has happened, during all this time, to democracy and the political organs through which it finds expression? What is the nature of democracy in the most advanced industrial societies of our day? The first of the above questions may seem inopportune, as being too abstract, too theoretical; the second much more concrete is, on the other hand, of the greatest interest to Latin American countries at the present time.

At the risk of being tiresome, we would repeat that it is only possible here to touch rapidly on essential points. It is generally acknowledged that—pending the appearance of a work transcending it—description extant of the changes that have taken place in the structure of democracy over the past few decades is that given by G. Leibholz,⁷⁸ which, despite an understandable emphasis on the experiences of his own country —Germany —, is generally applicable to all other countries. To avoid the temptation of examining some of the technical questions that crop up, I prefer not to take this work as my reference but rather to have recourse to - the general lines of another, by the same author.⁷⁹ This one is not intended for "experts" and colleagues but for the general public, and its main purpose is to point out some of the dangers inherent in the whole process as far as the maintenance and defence of individual freedoms are concerned. This is a subject to which it may only be worth while reverting later on, and then only in one contest.

In the development of the situation with regard to individual freedoms, the following three stages may be noted: first, monopolization of legislative power by Parliament; second, replacement of liberal, representative democracy by the radical or egalitarian democracy of the party State; and third, the stage of the ever more marked development of the so-called Welfare State. Observing our promise to avoid the subject of safeguards for the individual, however, the two main concepts which we have to compare, in connexion with the evolution of democracy, are those pertaining to the second of the above-mentioned stages: that is to say, the old liberal and representative democracy, on the one hand, and the modern radical and egalitarian democracy of the party State, on the other. The terms in which this contrast is expressed are not, perhaps, altogether satisfactory, and it is therefore not easy, without going into detailed technicalities, to explain the significance of the differences between the two forms of democracy. They affect the actual internal structure of Parliament, co-operation between the traditional legislative and executive powers, and relations between Parliament and society in general. At the risk of making undue generalizations, let us try to explain as briefly as possible what this complex of relationships implies: in the first place, an increasing predominance of the executive and administrative branches over Parliament; in the second place, changes in the internal life of Parliament, in the "representation" and behaviour of the parties parliamentarians themselves in the strict sense of the term - and the encroachment of administrative matters on Parliament's traditional sphere of activity; in the third place, the loss or diminution of Parliament's exclusive privilege of political participation, as other forms of participation have slowly developed within society itself.

Although the term "party State" is clear enough when definite political principles—not always existing everywhere—are accepted, mistakes may arise from the ascription of the quality of "representative"—without precise explanations—to the first form of democracy, since the second form possesses it in no less a degree.

Consequently, despite his predilection for exaggerated and even paradoxical expressions, the interpretation given by Siegfried Landshut⁸⁰ may clarify the subject for us from the sociological standpoint. In so far as democracy and parliamentary life may be considered as equivalent, the historical phases of the latter can help to explain the situation. According to Landshut, there is a first phase which he describes as that of the democratization of parliamentarism. The elements of this process are so well known that it is almost superfluous to recall them: the continual expansion of the electorate; the transformation of parties, from the flexible associations of notables which they were at the beginning into the disciplined and comparatively rigid organizations which they constitute at the present time; the transformation of the electoral system, from the original type of election by simple majority into the proportional representation type which now largely prevails.

The second phase, however, has been much less explored, and it is of particular interest to sociologists, precisely because it is characterized from the sociological point of view by changes in the social structure coinciding with the development of industrialization. These industrialized societies have seen a gradual levelling of many of the earlier social differences incomes, living standards and forms of culture and group living a fundamental consequence of which has been a decline of political imperatives in parliamentary democratic government. To some people this expression may seem exaggerated; it therefore needs to be carefully examined. From the political standpoint, the consequences of changes in the social structure have produced the following political phenomena, among others:

1. "The increasing levelling-out of social differences leaves even less room for a multiplicity of parties,"⁸¹ One result of this may be a dwindling of the significance attached to ideologies; this theory, maintained by various thinkers, was referred to earlier in this study.
2. Increasing preoccupation with the mainfold State activities affecting the citizen, in the spheres of economics, health, social security, education, etc., has led to "an atrophy of the political sectors of modern parliamentary democracies and a corresponding hypertrophy of the administration."⁸²
3. The fact that a greater part is being played by individuals in a number of private organizations—whether or not pursuing purely material interests—focuses attention more and more on the political significance of such interest groups", which certainly look "mainly towards the executive as the centre of the State activity".⁸³ (But this does not occur always or everywhere: e.g., the case of the States of America.)

However, the general thesis is clear and should not be overlooked, even in its apparently most extreme statement, namely, that the whole process signifies the simultaneous socialization of the government, on the one hand, and nationalization of society, on the other all the more so when this process tends to be rounded off by awareness of the inadequacy of the traditional national and domestic policy, which leads to demands on all sides for supernational integration and the maintenance as far as possible of universal solidarity within the community of nations. It is very possible that all industrial societies - whether of one persuasion or the other, to return to a subject mentioned earlier are moving in this direction, although no one can foresee either the rapidity of the movement or the variations which may occur in the general trend.

Significantly enough, if we look at a catalogue of the latest publications on political science, we find an intense preoccupation with certain subjects that have a direct or indirect bearing on the chief problems referred to above. The inclinations of the different academic and national traditions exert an influence, as is natural. In addition, the North Americans who invented the term, the Italians and the French are constantly adding to the studies on pressure groups. And the English and the Germans, who also do not despise these groups, - are probably outstanding, the former for meticulous studies of parliamentary organization⁸⁴ and the latter for research on parties and their parliamentary interconnexions through fractional groups and technical committees. Nor should we be surprised at the revival of an old idea: the so-called representation of professional interests,⁸⁵ which aroused passionate interest a few years ago and is now being studied more thoroughly and with a fuller knowledge of the facts.

Despite all that has just been said, we shall be told and rightly so— that we have not yet met with a formula expressing concisely the complex of ingredients comprised in modern democracy. Such a formula exists, however, and, whether or not its terms are happily chosen, enjoys general acceptance today. This formula is pluralist democracy.

An attempt at describing its content systematically and in detail would be out of place, not only as putting a further strain on time and patience but also as requiring a logical statement of each and every one of the phenomena mentioned above.

Nevertheless, we would recall very briefly that pluralist democracy consists essentially in the political acceptance of the social reality as a complex of highly diverse groups, each with its individual interests and therefore prone to conflicts and disputes with the other groups, but all complying with a common standard so as to seek the most fitting agreement and compromise in each case which arises in consideration, - of course, of its temporary character. This pluralism of interests and convictions, this outcome of tolerance, can only be attained if there is that agreement on fundamentals so skillfully discussed and explained by a great German-American authority on political science.⁸⁶

Although, generally speaking, pluralist democracy now obtains in one form or another in the most advanced Western countries, it is perhaps in the Scandinavian countries that it has reached its fullest perfection. Anyone wishing to acquaint himself with it in such an advanced form would do well to have recourse to the experience of these Nordic countries, which have been so fortunate in this respect although we should of course avoid the temptation to indulge in servile copying, to try in the same way that we have covered our hot regions with Alpine chalets to disguise our worthy Araucanos as Laplanders.⁸⁷

Notwithstanding the foregoing remarks on the most immediate concerns of present-day sociological and political research, it is a strange, not to say startling, fact that hardly any research has been conducted on a most important matter connected with modern democracy at least from the Latin American point of view -; the question of the relation between democracy and economic planning. For the very reason that it is so strange, we should be hard put to it to explain or interpret this lack. We shall therefore not attempt to do so.

Since the illustrious Karl Mannheim - the greatest of present-day sociologists since Max Weber launched the theme of "planning for freedom", passionately devoting himself to the defence of the "third way", of what he called a militant democracy, it must be admitted that little progress has been made in this direction. His premature death, or the missionary spirit which dominated his last days far removed from the intellectual intensity of his earlier years prevented him from completing his task himself, as did also, perhaps, its severely technical character. Since then, a great deal has been said on the subject of democracy and planning and not with least cogency by its detractors.

Not long ago Gunnar Myrdal⁸⁸ took up the subject, but without making much progress as regards practice; he did, however, draw an important distinction, which has not been duly followed up. Within the generalized trend towards the Welfare State, beside that dominant in the Soviet orbit, he distinguished two different forms of planning, according to whether the countries considered were wealthy and his experience, of course, lay chiefly in Scandinavia - or underdeveloped. And Friedrich, likewise in the realm of general ideas, evolved a definition embodying the nodal point of planning in pluralist democracies:

"Planning, as the pluralist organization of a community, represents the direction and co-ordination of that community's activities under an over-all programme, with particular reference to the use of economic resources. This direction is achieved in conformity with the will of the community as expressed through the Constitution and the representative bodies."⁸⁹

Since, here and there, the Welfare State has come into being, the fact should not be overlooked that the recognition of its existence has given rise to various problems, depending on the intensity with which its presence is felt or, again, on certain intellectual propensities. A very few examples 138/ will suffice. An Englishman like Richard M. Titmuss,⁹⁰ reflecting the temperament of his nation, prefers to take the most uncompromisingly practical topics the English public health service, the family and industrialization, the pension system, exchanges of population, etc. - and to distil from his examination, as it were involuntarily, the delicate constitutional and legal problems involved in the launching of a Welfare State. On the other hand, a German like Ernst Forsthoff⁹¹ prefers to go straight to the point and define, in abstract and systematic form, some of the most serious problems posed by the Sozialstaat to jurists. Drawing on another work by the same author, we give below an outline of these problems, at least in so far as they concern us at the moment.

1. There is an inconsistency between the constitutional structure of modern States that is, parliamentary States and the tasks proposed for them and imposed upon them. The matter of programming, whether in developed or in less developed countries, must obviously be included under this point and is of particular importance to us in Latin America.
2. With the continual increase in the tasks devolving upon the administration, the practice of litigation, that is to say, the defence vis-a-vis the State of the rights of the individual, is becoming increasingly difficult all the more so as the Welfare State, by reason of its dis- tributive function, has to employ special procedures which, being subtle and complex, elude the traditional forms of legal control.
3. The advent of the Welfare State inevitably implies an increase in the Civil Service. Our first reaction to this bureaucratic expansion is one of misgiving; we would like to see it curtailed as far as possible. But here we come across a paradox that cannot be ignored: the best safeguard for the individual vis-a-vis such a bureaucracy consists precisely in the fact that it is of the strictest integrity and therefore enjoys the greatest possible authority.
4. None of these questions which at a superficial glance might seem to be mere legal technicalities - can be evaded in any serious analysis of the relationship between economic planning and democracy. The past few years have seen a distinct advance in the Latin American countries towards a general recognition of the importance, from the point of view of the region's economic development, of a thorough reform of their administrative systems. Stress was laid on this matter in the discussions and recommendations of the Working Group which met in Mexico City in December 1960 to study the social aspects of economic development, as may be seen from the Group's Report, to which we have already referred on various occasions. A vigorous educational campaign has been carried out in this connexion establishment of a number of schools of administration, seminars, publications, etc. - and evidence is not lacking that serious investigation has begun in several countries, under the sponsorship of international organizations.

Mention was made above of the question of litigation; it might therefore not be out of place to make a passing reference to a matter of concern to some Latin Americans a concern shared by the author of the present study, himself formerly a jurist. In attempts to improve the situation with regard to our government services, which with some exceptions, of course - is not very encouraging, it is customary to take as a model the North American public administration, which has developed so remarkably and so admirably in recent years. There can be no objection to this inspiration; since, however, our administrative tradition is based on the Continental and especially the French - pattern, the case presents some difficulties, apart from the high degree of sociological interest inherent in any problem of "reception" (cf., in the legal sphere, the famous "reception" of Roman law). The danger even if it is only imaginary is that what we assimilated previously may not be sturdy enough to enable us, in the new process of "reception", to save what is most valuable in the old tradition its legal content, that is to say, administrative law itself. That venerable institution, law, has now fallen on such evil times everywhere that it would be deplorable if here, too, in its administrative branch, its true essence were to disappear. Hence the fear entertained by some people that, with the precipitate reception of the aforesaid public administration system, the essential preoccupation essential from the legal standpoint - with the question of litigation may remain a capitis deminutio because attention is devoted primarily to the question of efficiency and is overwhelmed by such things as diagrams and schemes for "organization and control". However, to

avoid any misunderstanding, we would stress the fact that there is no objection in principle- quite the contrary, in fact to the reasonable and well-assimilated "reception" of the techniques carefully developed by North American talent in an important discipline.

The foregoing question remains wide open to investigation and it presents a challenge to the younger generation. Some admirable research has been done, but, as far as we are aware, no definitive work has yet been published which describes technically the problems of economic planning in parliamentary democracies. Our countries, it appears, were the first to institute the so-called development corporations (or bodies with similar names). The idea of programming, once it had become general in those countries, also produced a crop of councils and boards. These bodies do not simply exist; they are concerned with a variety of parties, trade unions and interest groups. How can all these activities be co-ordinated, so as to achieve, through Parliament, a harmonized direction, representing, in accordance with Friedrich's definition, the national will?⁹²

The question put in the above heading might seem presumptuous and out of place in the present study if we did not categorically deny in advance any intention of considering it in its philosophical substance or its complete politico-sociological content. The last great philosopher who ventured upon the theme of the value of democracy in all its radical profundity was obliged to enlist the help of Reason (Vernunft) with a capital R, to defend democracy against the irrational alternatives offered by our times. Although we must resist the temptation to follow some of his brilliant - and, of course, complex analyses, we may refer to one of his penetrating ideas that democracy is not principally a pretension of man vis-a-vis the State, but a pretension of man vis-a-vis himself, the fulfilment of which is precisely what enables him to take part in democracy; and this pretension can be perceived from the following three standpoints: consciousness of responsibility, veneration for great men, ability for self-education.⁹³

The lure of politico-sociological considerations - - the relations between political systems with economic structures and with historical or ideological traditions with respect to each country is easier to evade, at least for the reason that something has already been said on the subject in the present study. Let us return, then, to our original question in its simplest connotation and as a mere question of fact. There is an obvious parallelism between the question asked at the beginning of this paragraph and another question set forth earlier: Is there a single unitary model for economic development? In view of this parallelism, we may ack: Is there also a single model for democracy? The answer is negative in both cases. But the stubborn persistence - particularly on the part of textbooks in taking as a model, in its own setting, the venerable English - or perhaps Anglo-Saxon - - definition can only lead to an irremediable hopelessness. The subject has suddenly acquired great importance because of the interest now taken by politicians and scientists in the possible connexion between democracy and economic development in the newer countries. Perhaps, for this reason, and to guard against the rather emotional impatience of some Latin Americans, the Working Group in Mexico City was wise recognizing the subject in all its simplicity and even in recommending some research in this connexion: What forms of democratic government are the most appropriate for societies at different levels of economic and social development?⁹⁴

Once more we come up against the fact that the situation in the Latin American countries is, as might be expected, very different from that obtaining in the bevy of new States; and, consequently, some of the concepts and recommendations of current research are of little use to us for instance, the general theoretical questions considered by R. Braibanti in his above-mentioned study: "The relevance of political science to the study of underdeveloped areas"⁹⁵ We venture to give below a few other brief examples.

Reference was made elsewhere to a classification of political systems of the new countries used by a group of young North American research workers.⁹⁶ There are apparently three "standard models of political systems": (a) the so-called "mobilization" system or type; (b) the "consociational" system; and (c) the system of "modernizing autocracies". These various types are not difficult to explain, but such an explanation is unnecessary at the moment. (We shall merely list, by way of illustration, the characteristics of the first type: (a) hierarchical authority; (b) total loyalty; (c) tactical flexibility; (d) unitarism; (e) ideological specialization.) It is interesting to note that each type corresponds to a different form of economic development.

Broadening the horizon a little, a further interesting classification is to be found in another book, also mentioned earlier.⁹⁷ Its authors prefer a dichotomic distinction: (a) oligarchies, which are or can be modernist, colonial and racialist, conservative and traditionalist; and (b) democracies, which in turn correspond to one or other of the following types: political, tutelary and resulting from the liquidation of the colonial system. If time allowed, it would be worth while to examine in some detail cases where the Spanish language had fallen into disuse, or else one of the so-called tutelary democracies which are also of interest to some Latin American countries.

The Brazilian professor Helio Jaguaribe—who attended the meeting in Mexico City—has ventured to tackle the subject with reference to the Latin American world, following up the connexion, referred to above, between political forms and methods of economic development. His undeniably original and discerning study⁹⁸ is perhaps unnecessarily complicated by some questions of a geopolitical nature and it strikes here and there an extremely pessimistic note. In Professor Jaguaribe's view, there are three viable models or types: the model of national capitalism or capitalistic nationalism; the model of State capitalism; and the type of "developmentistic" socialism. As will be seen, the classification here is politico-economic in character. A more attenuated and systematized expression of his thought is contained in the report of the above-mentioned Working Group: "In all probability, the structure of political models applicable to Latin American countries would include, inter alia, various combinations of the following preponderant factors:

1. National enrepreneurial bourgeoisies and or technocratic middle classes.
2. Parliaments with a predominance of parties supporting economic development as a fundamental political value on the basis of nationalist aspirations, or with a predominance of centralized political groups having a profoundly reformist outlook under the leadership of the technocratic group formed by the middle classes, and
3. States responsible for the programming and control of an economic development activity carried out mainly by national entrepreneurs, or States performing themselves the function of entrepreneur on account of the insufficiency of private enterprise.⁹⁹

While it was necessary to mention these opinions, it would be out of place to indulge in polemics. Our task for the moment is simpler; it does not aspire to offer even moderately satisfactory analyses, for these can only be attempted in a special study—which has to be carried out some time.¹⁰⁰

In our view, Arnold Bergsträsser is right in stating that, at this point in the twentieth century, there are still four fundamental types of rule existing side by side: primitive, class, constitutional or rule of law, and totalitarian.

Since gaining their independence, the Latin American countries have been, or have wanted to be, constitutional States, governed by the rule of law, although traces of their earlier class rule have persisted here and there. They have also been, or have wanted to be, democratic States. Because that democracy has not always functioned well, this is no reason for calling it in question. to get nearer to democracy; But in most cases there has been an endeavour and it is essential that, in the coming decades, which will be decisive for Latin America's economic growth, attempts be made to give it substance - in each country, according to its particular characteristics-, even if the almost mythical ideal of the Anglo-Saxon model is not reproduced point by point. In regard to economic development and programming, it is hardly probable that the old "liberal-representative" democracy in Leibholtz's classification can prove an effective instrument at the present time. Pluralist democracy, typical of the most modern industrial countries, can only now begin in some of the Latin American countries, if they are fortunate; that is to say, if they are in full take-off or are getting under way.

Some people may think that the system of the so-called "dominant party"—not to be confused with the "one party"—is the most effective instrument for maintaining a programme and enlisting popular support. By the foregoing, we mean that form of the classic parliamentary system in which we have a majority coalition exercising a modifying influence in both directions. The essential point, however, is that the paradigm of democratic political life is not single but plural. If, as has already been said, the economists have tried to define in an original way, "from within", the problems inherent in the Latin American situation, this is because, as is natural, they had in mind the fundamental concepts of their science, which are equally valid everywhere. The politicians and their advisers—the social scientists—have to bear in mind that there are also fundamental principles of democracy, if real meaning is to be attached to the term. These principles are well known, but they should perhaps be recalled breifly.

In the first place, there must be a minimum of representation, whatever the electoral procedure and the party system, and of respect for the sanctions—no re-elections, etc.—of public opinion, In the second place, there must be safeguards for the individual person and such safeguards must be maintained; without this liberal element, any democracy is bound to perish. And in the third place, there must be opportunities for effective social participation, in a greater or lesser degree.

Sociologists, while admitting the importance of the first and second of these principles, will be particularly anxious to stress the paramount value of the third. Sociologically speaking, democracy is, indeed, a manifestation of participation. This manifestation is not confined to election times, to the casting of a vote or the temporary fulfilment of other purely political functions; real democratic participation by the citizen extends throughout society and is expressed in a variety of group activities. The painful experiences of the past few decades have been needed to bring about a revival in one form or another adapted, of course, to present circumstances—of some of Durkheim's ideas, expressed with such vigour in the preface to the second edition of his classic work De la division du travail social. Nowadays, Nowadays, we speak rather of the structural importance of what are known as the intermediate groups, in the social and a fortiori in the political field. As the present author expressed it elsewhere,¹⁰¹

"... it may be maintained that it is only possible to speak of full and real participation in those cases where the individual is genuinely involved, i.e., where he has direct or first-hand experience of the things that are important to him and from which he forms, even without meaning to do so, his own opinion. An individual is genuinely involved in his family, his occupation, his firm, in the trade union, the producers' association, the parish, etc. An individual cannot act readily and judiciously when confronted with general, abstract situations, unless he is prepared for them by a gradual broadening of his limited, specific outlook. The means by which this gradual broadening of the outlook on life can be brought about is active participation in intermediate groups, of steadily increasing size, from the tiny family nucleus, at one end of the scale, to the entire State and its international connexions, at the other, Real and fairly responsible political participation is thus achieved through these various groups. That participation is direct in so far as the individual takes part in private decisions which, whether he wishes it or not, have general political repercussions; it is indirect in so far as he forms his general political opinions as a result of contact and exchanges of ideas and experience with the other members of his group."

Such is the importance conceded today to this fact of democracy as a participation phenomenon that attempts have been made in a number of surveys to gauge it in different countries. And sometimes with surprising results. The vigour of economic development deriving from that popular support so often mentioned depends on the degree of effective partici- pation existing at all these intermediate levels. And this brings us to a question about which nothing has been said up to the present: the vigour of trade union life. The importance of this fact, even from the standpoint of economic development, has been forcefully pointed out by some contemporary sociologists—André Philip, Goetz Briefs, etc.¹⁰²

A. Philip said recently¹⁰³ that there was coming to pass a transition from "participation democracy" to libertarian—or liberal—democracy. We need not discuss the felicity of the terms chosen. The second of them is meant to convey the idea that, as a result of modern working conditions—in the most highly industrialized societies, of course—,the individual is in a position to participate to an ever greater extent in a large variety of organizations. While liberating himself, man also concentrates more narrowly on his interests and responsibilities. Perhaps for this reason political democracy may be becoming steadily weaker and more uncertain as far as purely "political" participation is concerned, but it does not, on that account cease to be a democracy. In his own words:

"I wonder whether, instead of lamenting over the indifference, passivity and apathy of the masses, it would not be better to consider that this weakening implies a kind of liberation of the individual; we shall thus attain to a democracy which, though perhaps allowing of less participation, will, on the other hand, allow of greater controls, determination of limits and definition of spheres of action."

He adds the following, which is of particular interest for our present purpose:

"There can be no economic democracy without the provision of a continuing education for the whole population a continuing education in keeping with conditions in the modern world... education for a people decreasingly interested in ideologies and philosophies of life and increasingly interested in definite technical realities at the same time as in the values in which they are reflected.¹⁰⁴

It was thus through the trade unions that was bound to arise the burning problem of economic democracy,¹⁰⁵ that is to say, the problem—as various definitions agree of the extension to the economic sphere of the democratic principles which first appeared in the political sphere. But we have made so many digressions that one more would be unpardonable.

Would it be possible, or rather, are we able at this stage to tackle a last, thorny question? Up to now, the conviction has prevailed that the democratic system is capable of promoting economic development, and in some sort not only because of value judgments but also for technical reasons. These reasons provide at once for the prerequisites of growth, i.e., a sustained and adequate rate of growth, and the equitable and human distribution of the fruits thereof. No one would deny in principle that the human intelligence is capable of determining the procedures required for democratic programming. It would, doubtless, be more difficult, though by no means impossible, to reconcile planning and democracy. Intellectuals may be provoked to great impatience at times by the delays and obstacles which their ideas encounter when applied to the complex situations of real life, though the experience of practical men may in due course contrive to damp down the intellectual’s inherent intolerance. What may happen, however, is that a moment will come when the general conviction prevails that the democratic system is a failure, that Western ideas are exploded. The future is in the lap of the gods; and there is no point in our striving with Proteus now, to wrest his secret from him the—elusive sea-god will always escape us, so we had better give up any idea of prophecy.

Although the future is unforeseeable, we can in any case bear in mind the causes that may lead us to some such gamble with fate —as rejecting democracy. In these last remarks on the viability of the democratic system, let us emphasize once more the significance of its two indispensable buttresses: legitimacy and efficiency. The democratic system can perish if it is wasted by inefficiency. But it can also perish if the vital force of its legitimacy is sapped by pernicious anaemia. It is important not to be mistaken about these two dangers; the second is much more serious and relentless than the first. There is always a hope that, even at the eleventh hour, men may arise who are able to turn inaptitude into efficiency, who are able, if need be, to perform a final, saving operation. On the other hand, the complete evaporation of beliefs, the moral collapse that may result from the dissolution of faith —the psychological disintegration of a whole society— can only lead to hopelessness and "extremism". Men cannot live without the stimulus of a lofty example. And, sometimes, ruling groups through their corruption may poison democracy instead of affording an example of devotion and steadfastness. But there is perhaps no deeper form of such corruption —for the very reason that it slowly and inexorably undermines— than the power, Machiavellism of public men, whether of their own country or of a foreign dominating country. It has rightly been observed that the Machiavellian of the Prince corrupts, at most, his little Court; but the mass Machiavellian of the great modern leaders saps, equally and inevitably, the moral fibre of all individual citizens. And democracy is basically a question of ethics, as has been so clearly explained by the philosopher Jaspers. Psychological disintegration implies, at the most, mere selfish resignation, content, to gratify its most "human" and immediate interests, and, at the least, escape to an "ivory tower", represented, perhaps, by one of the world religions. Let us, then, face this possibility —as is fitting for adult, mature beings— and at the same time let us hope, and, still more firmly determine, that it be not translated into fact. In one of the most fateful moments in the history of Spain, her greatest leader was in a position to say: Spain "fará da sé". He did not, however, do so, and therefore did not shatter the mystery that history preserves throughout its long course by reason of its secrets. Why should not that same hope be repeated here? We have no doubt that, in the era which is now dawning, Latin America, too, fará da sé.

Notes

1. José Medina Echavarría, "El Papel del Sociólogo en las Tareas del Desarrollo Económico", in: Aspectos Sociales del Desarrollo Económico, op. cit.↩
2. Cf. José Ortega y Gasset, Una interpretación de la historia universal, (Lessons VII and VIII).↩
3. André Marchal, Systemes et Structures Economiques, Paris, Presses Universitaires de France, 1959.↩
4. Op.cit., p. 91.↩
5. Cf. Theo R. Crevenna, Materiales para el Estudio de la Clase Media en la América Latina, Washington, Fan American Union, 1950–51.↩
6. Gino Germani and Kalman Silvert, "Politics, Social Structure and Military Intervention in Latin America", Archives Européennes de Scciologie, Vol. II, N° 1, 1961.↩
7. R. Aron has restored the proper meaning of the sociological concepts of "political class" and "ruling class". Italian writers, the direct heirs of Gaetano Mosca, are now working on this important subject, viewed from different angles. Cf., Inter alia, Giacomo Perticone, La Fermazione della Classe Politica nell'Italia Contemporanea, Florence, Edizioni Leonardo, 1954; Pompeo Biondi, Potere e Classe Politica, Studi Politici, 1, 1952; Eugenio Pena, La Democracia e la Classe Politica, Occidente, 12, 1956; Arturo Carl Jemolo, La Classe Dirigente en Italia, Occidente, 12, 1956, etc.↩
8. John. J. Johnson, "Political Change in Latin America: of the Middle Sectors", Stanford, Stanford University Press, 1958.↩
9. R. Vekemans and J. L. Segundo, op. cit.↩
10. Jorge Ahumada, "Economic Development and Problems of Social Change in Latin America", in: E. de Vries and J. M. Echavarría, op. cit., and the bibliography it contains.↩
11. Bert F. Hoselitz, "Economic Growth in Latin America", in Contributions to the First International Conference of Economic History, Stockholm, 1960, Paris, Mouton, 1960.↩
12. Op.cit., p. 97.↩
13. Op. cit., p. 101.↩
14. ECLA, Característica de la Economía Interna y su Desarrollo, 1929-59 (E/CN.12/563).↩
15. "The Brazilian Melting Pot", Atlantic Monthly, February 1946.↩
16. Daniel Cosió Villegas, "Programmed Economic Development and Political Organization" in: J. de Vries and J.M. Echavarría (eds.), op cit.↩
17. ECLA, Characteristics of the Internal Economy and its Development, 1929-59 (E/CN.12/562), p. 125.↩
18. La Clase Media en México, Revista Mexicana de Sociología, Nos. 2 and 3, 1955.↩
19. Max Weber, Wirtschaftgeschichte, Berlin, Duncker und Humbolt, 1958, p. 302.↩
20. An excellent summary of this question is provided by Hans Freyer, 'Gesellschaft und Kultur", Propyläen Weltgeschichte, Vol. X, pp. 532 ff.↩
21. Arnold Gehlen, "Zeit-Bilder", Frankfurt-am-Main, Athenäum Verlag, 1960, or the very full work by Sir Herbert Read.↩
22. "Social change in Guatemala and U.S. Policy" in: Richard N. Adams et al, op. cit.↩
23. Ibid., p. 257↩
24. Ibid., p. 283↩
25. André Marchal op. cit. p. 103.↩
26. The most useful account at present available is probably the chapter by Alvin Boskoff, "Social Change: Major Problems in the Emergence of Theoretical and Research Foci", in: Howard Becker and Alvin Boskoff, Modern Sociological Theory in Continuity and Change, New York, Dryden Press, 1957. Two recent articles of interest are: Wilbert E. Moore, "A Reconstruction of Theories of Social Change". American Sociological Review, Vol. 25, 1960; and E. R. Francis, "Prolegomena to a Theory of Social Change", Kyklus, 1961, p.2. Mention should also be made of the brilliant study by Ralph Dahrendorf, "Out of Utopia", American Journal of Sociology, 1958.↩
27. An interesting account of the whole question is given by Ferdinand A. Hermens, "Constitutionalism, Freedom and Reform in Latin America" in: F. B. Pike (ed.), Freedom and Reform in Latin America, Notre Dame (Ind.), University of Notre Dame Press. Allowance should, however, be made for Hermens' tendency (justified or not) to air his dislike for proportional representation.↩
28. Duverger's own words are worth quoting, because of the clarity of his thought: "Au XIXè siècle, en Europe Occidentale, l'opposition des partis conservateurs et des partis libéraux a reflété un conflit de classe entre l'aristocratie et la bourgeoisie, dont l'analyse marxiste a donné une description convenable, Une tendance au bipartisme s'est ainsi mani- festée clairement. Dans la deuxième moitié du siècle, le développement industriel et la croissance du prolétariat engendrent une troisième force politico-sociale, qui s'incarne dans les partis socialistes. Le bipar- tisme précédent tend alors à se transformer en tripartisma. Ce phénomène est observable à l'ètat pur en Grande Bretagne, en Belgique, en Australis, en Nouvelle-Zélande. Ailleurs, d'autres éléments interfèrent avec lui, mais sa trace demeure nettement perceptible." (Maurice Duverger, "Sciologie des Partis Politiques", in G. Gurvitch (ed.), Traité de Socio- logie, Paris, Presses Universitaires de France, 1960, p. 38). He then adds, although not all the finer points can be brought out: "Mais au fur et a mésure que la democratie politique s'établit, qu'elle devient un régime installé, qu'un retour offensif du système aristocratique apparaît de moins en moins possible, l'opposition des conservateurs et des libé- raux perd progressivement sa signification..." (Ibid., p. 39) Theзe and other ideas put forward by the French teacher may be open to question, though it would be impertinent to challenge them here. There can, however, be no questionin the relevance of his remarks to the subject under cen sideration - the decline of the old two-party system in Latin America.↩
29. J.A. Schumpeter, Capitalism, Socialism and Democracy, London, Allen and Unwin, 1957, p. 134. See also Carl Brinkman, "Die Aristokratie im kapitalistischen Zeitalter", in his Wirtschaftsformen und Lebensformen, Tübingen, Mohr, 1950, p.33.↩
30. Attention should be drawn to the almost simultaneous publication, by two sociological journals, of two special issues on this questien, The Archives Européennes de Sociologie (Vol. II, No.1) has brought cut an issue dealing with "Le Sabre et la Loi". The Revue Frangpice de Sociologie (Vol. II, April-June 1961) has also published a special issue entitled "Guerre Armée - Armée Société". Both quote a large number of reference works on the subject, including recent and most interesting material nublished in North America.↩
31. For this reason, I shall not refer to the above-mentioned article by Germani and Silvert or to other similar works published at about the same time in Latin America and elsewhere.↩
32. Edwin Lieuwen, Arms and Politics in Latin America, New York, Praeger, 1960. Another book being edited by John J. Johnson will expand further on the same subject, to judge from the announced title: The Role of the Military in Underdeveloped Countries.↩
33. One instance of differing assessment of this book is afforded by the two reviews published in the leading Mexican journal Foro Internacional, No. 1, July-September 1960.↩
34. The present author endeavoured to elucidate this thorny topic in a short course of lectures given at the University of Cordoba, a portion of which is contained in the September-December issue (Year I, Nos. 4-5) of the Revista de la Universidad Nacional de Cordoba, devoted on this occasion to the subject of "Mass Society", In this connexion, I should like to draw attention to the interesting book by W. Kornhauser, The Politics of Mass Society", Glencoe (III), The Free Press, 1959.↩
35. "Las Relaciones entre las Instituciones Sociales y Las Económicas: Un Modelo Teórico para América Latina" Boletín Económico para América Latina, Vol. VI, No. 1, March 1962, p. 37. The title of the article, influenced by the circumstances of the moment, is somewhat forbidding, to the detriment perhaps of its modest aims. See, as a critical notice, the article by Miller and Riessman, "Working-class Authoritarianism: a Critique of Lipset", British Journal of Sociology, September 1961, together with Lipset's reply in the same issue.↩
• * See, as a critical notice, the article by Miller and Riessman, "Working-class Authoritarianism: a Critique of Lipset", British Journal of Sociology, September 1961, together with Lipset's reply in the same issue.
36. See S. M., Lipset, Political Man: the Social Bases of Politics, New York, Doubleday, 1960, p. 109.↩
37. Op. cit. p. 122, (Echavarría's italics)↩
38. In this connexion, Glarecio Ary Dillon Soares has just published an article (Boletín del Centro Latinoamericano de Investigaciones en Ciencias Sociales, Year IV, No. 2), in which he applies the elements of the argument outlined above to the actual state of affairs in Brazil. He has promised a second part to this study. Although supported by tables and calculations which are very interesting in themselves, the article suffers somewhat from a defect to which the earliest sociological research was prone atendency to lose sight of essentials under a mass of detail. In Argentina, Gino Germani had to take the bull by the horns (the bull in this case being Peronism) and therefore his book, which also follows the trend indicated above, abounds not only in ingenious interpretations (sometimes debatable, of course) but also in valuable descriptions of electoral sociology in Argentina, which it is a pity not to be able to reproduce and comment upon at length (See G. Germani, Politica e Massa, Belo Horizonte Edicao da Revista Brasileira de Estudios Politicos, Universidade de Minas Gerais, 1960).↩
39. Wagley, op. cit. p. 214.↩
40. See point 11 (a), "Las Recomendaciones del Economista", in the Group Report, Boletin Economico de América Latina, Vol.VI.,. No. 1, March 1961, p. 62.↩
41. Jacques Austruy, "Existe-t-il un Mode Obligé de Croissance?", Revue d'Economie Politique, January-February 1961. The author bases himself on the reflections of another colleage. D. Villey, which I cannot resist quoting here: "En somme les Américains et nous autres Européens nous sommes les fils aînés de l'histoire, et nos cadets se révèlent furieusement atteints d'un complexe très à la mode: le complexe d'envie du frère puîné. Et le père de famille se demande alors s'il ne doit pas mettre des pantalons longs aux enfants au berceau pour les guérir de leur complexe. Mais le père de famille a lui aussi son complexe. est hanté par le besoin que les pays arriéres se mettent à imiter son propre genre de vie. Si bien que les backward countries se trouvent en mesure de pratiquer ce qu'on appelle outre Atlantique le back-seat driving et qui consiste à conduire une automobile quoique assis sur le siège arrière par les conseils que l'on prodigue à celui qui tient le volant." (See the issue of the periodical quoted above, p.82) two things might perhaps be noted: first, that the complex is common to both, to East and to West - all "occidentals", in the final count: and, second, that Latin Americans, in all modesty, have in many cases done their best to free themselves from this complex. (See A.O, Hirschmann (ed.), Latin American Issues, Essays and Comments, New York, Twentieth Century Fund, 1961, p.12-23.)↩
42. By way of initiation for a reading public of non-economists, we give here a few very brief bibliographical references. For the history of economic theories of development, the following works may be very useful B.F.Hoselitz et al., Theories of Economic Growth, Glencoe (11.), Free Press, 1960; G.M.Meier and R.E.Baldwin, Economic Development, New York, Wiley, 1957, Part 1; Benjamin Higgins, Economic Development, New York, Norton, 1959, Part 2; Celso Furtado, Desenvolvimento e Subdesenvolvimento, Rio de Janeiro, Editóra Fundo de Gultura, 1961. For a brief historical outline of economic development in various countries there is nothing better than the admirable courses given in successive years by Anaré Philip, Cours d'Economie et Politiques Sociales. For modern "typology" we refer to the book by W. Rostow, The Stages of Economic Growth, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 1960. (The most severe criticism of this work by P.H. Baran and E.J. Hobsbawn, can be found in Kyklos, Vol. XVI, Fasc. 2, 1961.)↩
43. R. Barre, Le Développement Economique Paris, YSEA, 1958, p.29. —Analyse et Politique.↩
44. M. Kaplan, Soviet Economic Growth, 1953, p. 80.↩
45. In Latin American issues. Essays and Comments, op.cit pp. 95-123↩
46. Raúl Prebisch, "El Falso dilema entre desarrollo económico y estabilidad monetaria", Boletín Económico de América Latina, vol. VI, N° 1 (Santiago de Chile, marzo de 1961), pp. 1 ss.↩
47. See H.W. Singer, "Trends in Economic Thought on Underdevelopment", Social Research, vol. 28, N° 4, 1961.↩
48. "Informe del Grupo de Trabajo sobre los Aspectos Sociales del Desarrollo Económico en América Latina", Boletín Económico de América Latina, vol. VI, Nº 1, March 1961, p. 62. (Point 12 of "Las Recomendaciones del Economista".)↩
49. F. Perroux. La Coexistence Pacifique, Paris, Presses Universitaires de France, 1958, Vol. I, p. 180.↩
50. The bibliography for this subject is overwhelming, and not only on account of its bulk. It would be impertinent to attempt here even a minimun selection. We need only recall the comparative tables (though some may consider them to be pro domo sua) contained in the well-known book by Rostow, op, cit., p. 96-7.↩
51. Oskar Lange. Ekonomia Polityczna. Warsaw, Panstwowe Wydawn. Naukowe, 1959. The bibliography on this subject is becoming abundant. See especially the article by W. Leontieff, published in Foreign Affairs, January 1960, p. 261-72, and inter alia, the collective work published by Gregory Grossman, Value and Plan: Economic Calculation and Organization in Eastern Europe, University of California Press, 1960, which, as its sub-title indicates, is interesting in that it includes countries other than Russia. A detailed commentary on the above-mentioned rork by Oskar Lange is given in an article by Gerd Fleishamann, "Chancen der Rationalität in Ost und West", Hamburger Jahrbuch für Wirtschafts und Gesellschaftspolitik, Year 5, p. 155.↩
52. An excellent summary is given in the article by Jacques Austruy, mentioned earlier.↩
53. Erik Boettcher. Die sowjetische Wirtschaftspolitik am Scheidewege, Tübingen, Mohr, 1959, especially Chapter II. In other works by the same author, these ideas are reiterated and compared with those of other experts in Soviet economy. His general economic propositions are to be found in his article "Phasentheorie der wirtschaftlichen Entwicklung", in: Hamburger Jahrbuch für Wirtschafts- und Gesellschaftspolitik, Year 4, with a tabular summary (p.31) of his whole theory. including, as↩
54. See Pitirim A. Sorokin, "Mutual Convergence of the United States and the U.S.S.R. to the Mixed Social Cultural Type", International Journal of Comparative Sociology, Karwatak University, Dharwar (India), Vol. 1, N° 2. Here, too, it would be senseless to hurry in selecting a biblio- graphy on the subject; a start has been made by R. Aron, with his brilliant "journalistic" talent (as a few pedantic little sociologists would consider it), in his courses at the Sorbonne, concerning the formation of the élites; there is an interesting issue of the periodical Dedalus (Summer 1960): and, concerning the common man, readers can choose between the "impressionism" of Klaus Mehnert, Der Sowjetmensch, Stuttgart, Deutsche Verlags-Anstalt, 1958, and the complicated techni- cality of Alex Inkeles and R.A. Bauer, The Soviet Citizen, Harvard University Press, 1959. See also D. Granick, The Red Executive: a Study of the Organization Man in Russian Industry, New York, Doubleday, 1960. (Compare with White, Bendix and Bahrat.)↩
55. There is also a kind of convergence or approximation à rebours, which has been dealt with in one of the boldest, most ingenious (and most criticizable) articles published in recent years. This is the study by Siegfried Landshut, "Die Gegenwart im Lichte der Marxischen Lehrė", Hamburger Jahrbuch für Wirtschafts-und Gesellschaftspolitik, Year 1). In the view of this renowned sociologist, the profoundest predictions of Marx have come true precisely in the most advanced (non-Marxist) industrial societies of our time, rather than in Soviet Russia. ("Die Wahrheit der Marxischen Analyse: die Zukunftsgesellschaft als heutige Wirklichkeit" [The truth of the Marxian analysis: the future society qua contemporary reality.] The sub-title is very thought-provoking.) The article contains three fundamental ideas: (a) "alienation", a basic Marxist concept, is already a reality in our industrial society, in its organizations and its masses (public opinion and technological progress are clear cases of independent forces, subject to an inexorable Elgengesetzlichkeit); (b) the prediction of Alexis de Tocqueville the progressive levelling of all strata - has been largely fulfilled, which is to say, in Marxist parlance, that the prediction of a classless society is beginning to triumph in all the Western industrial societies: it should be observed that the celebrated class-consciousness is slowly dying out in various places because of the 'general rise in living standards and expectations and the formation of a broad layer of equivalent intermediate incomes; (c) simultaneously with this decline of the old "class" society, we are witnessing the withering of the principle of nationality and the ideology of the "political" State, the latter gradually turning into an administrative entity, serving a society which is capable of governing itself. "Political thought is now directed beyond the nation towards other complexes, wider in their scope...To the extent that the bourgeoisie, the propertied and cultured class, becomes absorbed into the general "unitary society", the nation likewise ceases to be the soil from whence springs its greatness and its glory." (Ibid., p.51.) The critics will say how much of this derives from intellectual fantasy and how much from observation (hasty, perhaps) of some features of contemporary European life.↩
56. R. Aron, "Classe Sociale, Classe Politique, Classe Dirigeante", Archives Européennes de Sociologie, Vol. 1, N° 2, 1960, p. 269.↩
57. Leszek Kolakowski, Der Mensch ohne Alternative, Munich, R. Piper, 1960, p. 56. Translated into German from Polish.↩
58. Carlo Antoni, Lo Storicismo, Turin, Edizioni Radio Italiana, 1957, p.200. ↩
59. R. F. Behrendt, op. cit., p. 22.↩
60. The beginner's attention might be drawn to three books which, while widely differing in their political substance, are all exemplary in the precision of their ideas and the elegance of their style: Jaime Eyzaguirre (Chilean), Ideario y Pauta de la Emancipación Chilena, 1957; Mariano Picón-Salas (Venezuelan), De la Conquista a la Independencia, 1958; and Pedro Henriquez Ureña (Dominican), Historio de la Cultura Latinoamericana, 1947.↩
61. See, for example, Ralph Braibanti, "The Relevance of Political Science to the Study of Underdeveloped Areas", in: R. Braibanti and J.J. Spengler (eds.), Tradition, Values and Socio-Economic Development, 1961, pp.134-179, with a copious bibliography; G. A. Almond and J. S. Coleman (eds.), The Politics of the Developing Areas, 1960, with a well-informed and discerning chapter on Latin America by George Blanksten; and a number of articles published in periodicals, among which the most noteworthy, in the present author's opinion, are those by S. N. Eisenstadt, more particularly "Sociological Aspects of Political Development in Under- developed countries", Economic Development and Cultural Change, Vol. 5, 1957, and "Soziale Entwicklung und politische Stabilität in Nicht-Westlichen Gesellschaften", Kölner Zeitschrift für Soziologie und Sozialpsychologie, Year 12, Vol. 2, 1960.↩
62. Detailed reports on both these meetings are contained in different issues of the above-mentioned periodical, Kölner Zeitschrift für Soziologie und Sozialpsychologie. For the first meeting, see issue No. 1, 1960, and for the second, No. 3, 1960.↩
63. Unfortunately, the categorical injuction printed in the margin of its documents, "not for quotation or publication", prevents me from commenting on or making use of those papers that would be most germane to our subject, including the contributions by David E. Alper and S. N. Lisenstadt. This is particularly regrettable in the case of the latter, in which questions were raised concerning the new bureaucracies that, exceptionally, might apply to the Latin American countries.↩
64. See op.cit., Boletin Económico de América Latina, Vol. VI, No.1, p.63.↩
65. See Bruno Leoni, in Il Politico, 25, 196A.↩
66. By way of example, it is sufficient to note the contributions (Brazilian, of course) to the Revista Brasileira de Studos Políticos, University of Minas Gerais, Belo Horizonte.↩
67. S.M. Lipset, op.cit. Chapter II. A correlation more complicated in form is offered by Johan Akerman, "Political Economic Cycles", in: Kyklos, 1, 1946 an article which allows some insight into his book Ekonomiskt Skeende och Politiska Förändringar (Economic and Political Changes),Lund, 1946; but apart from the language problem, one would have to possess the formidable training of the Uppsala scholar to be able to tackle his thesis.↩
68. Op. cit. p. 61.↩
69. S.M. Lipset, "Party Systems and the Representation of Social Groups", in: Archives Europérennes de Sociologie, Vol. I, No. 1, 1960. The article is highly interesting in itself; it also touches on other topics which are not of direct concern to us here.↩
70. This statement should be called to the attention of the devotees of the subject of mobility.↩
71. Op.cit., p. 60.↩
72. From the abundant bibliography on this subject we need take only a couple of examples. Although they are by North American authors, the present writer read them in Portuguese and is therefore unable to judge of their literary merit. The first, by Merle King, "Contribucao para una Teoría de Inestabilidade do Poder e da Politica na America Latina", Revista Brasileira de Estudos Politicos, Belo Horizonte, No. 5, January 1959, represents the classic historical-economic-sociological point of view. The second, by Russel H. Fizgibbon, "Avaliçao Estadística da Democracia na America Latina", published in the same periodical in 1957, is, as its title indicates, an attempt at measure- ment, by means of tables and graphs, on the basis of various interviews with individuals, many of them the majority in some of the interviews with high academic standing. Other studies of both types could be mentioned, and it is obviously unnecessary to refer to the work of national historians or of Latin American historians in general. The table reproduced below (op. cit., p. 11- the list continues up to 1962) was drawn up by Merle King; it shows, by way of illustration of political instability since the Second World War, the governing authorities—including presidents—removed by irregular methods:↩

Date of Irregular Removal	Country	Date of Irregular Removal	Country
October 1945	Venezuela	June 1950	Peru
October 1945	Brazil	March 1951	Bolivia
January 1946	Haiti	May 1951	Panama
July 1946	Bolivia	March 1952	Cuba
January 1947	Paraguay	April 1952	Bolivia
May 1947	Nicaragua	December 1952	Venezuela
August 1947	Ecuador	June 1953	Colombia
September 1947	Ecuador	May 1954	Paraguay
March 1948	Costa Rica	July 1954	Guatemala
June 1948	Paraguay	August 1954	Brazil
October 1948	Peru	December 1954	Honduras
November 1948	Venezuela	January 1955	Panama
December 1948	El Salvador	September 1955	Argentina
November 1949	Paraguay	November 1955	Argentina
January 1949	Panama	November 1955	Argentina
May 1950	Haiti

73. See, by way of example, Table 5 in the last chapter of Almond and Coleman, op.cit., p.362 and 363. Although the present author would have liked to and had full permission to reproduce this table, there would have been no point in doing so without explaining beforehand the latest terminology invented by the authors of this book.↩
74. Harry M. Johnson, Sociology: a Systematic Introduction, London, Routledge, 1960, Chapter 14, p. 385-9. For the amateurs of sociological interpretations, it may be well to draw attention here to a study by the above-mentioned sociologist Talcott Parsons, which in itself justifies his title to rank as an authority and is also among the least esoteric of his undeniably difficult writings. This is an "occasional" work, a critical review of the well-known book by C.. Mills, The Power Elite, New York, Oxford University Press, 1956. Starting from this "text and pretext", however, Parsons elaborates an original and interesting theory of the North American political structure. This was later embodied by Parsons in "The Distribution of Power in American Society", in his Structure and Process in Modern Societies, Glencoe (Ill.), Free Press, 1960. Probably of similar interest is another article, also intended as a critical review: David Easton, "An Approach to the Analysis of Political Systems", World Politics, Vol. 9, 1957.↩
75. R. Dahrendorf, "Democratie und Sozial Struktur in Deutschland", Archives Européennes de Sociologie, Vol. I, No. 1, 1960.↩
76. Ibid., p. 113.↩
77. See R. Aron, La Démocratie a l'Epreuve du XXe siècle, Calmann-Lévy, Paris, 1961. Although resulting from a "symposium" and therefore written in the popular and sometimes almost familiar debating style that characterizes such meetings, this study is not without value for people interested in the problems we are now considering.↩
78. Gerhard Leibholz, Strukturprobleme der modernen Demokratie, C.F.Müller,1958.↩
79. Gerhard Leibhola, "Die Bedrohung der Freiheit durch die Gesetzgeber", in Freiheit der Persönlichkeit, Kroner, Stuttgart (series of broad- casts by a team of lecturers), 1958.↩
80. S. Landshut, "Wandlungen der parlamentarischen Demokratie", Hamburger Jahrbuch, Year 4, pp. 150-162.↩
81. Ibid, p. 157↩
82. Ibid, p. 159↩
83. Ibid, p. 161↩
84. See, for example, Parliamentary Reform, 1933-1958: a Survey of Suggested Reforms, Hansard Society for Parliamentary Government, 1956.↩
85. J. H. Kaiser, Die Repräsentation organisierter Interessen, Berlin, Duncker und Humboldt, 1956; a valuable work which supersedes all earlier ones on the same subject.↩
86. Carl Joachim Friedrich, Demokratie als Herrschafts und Lebensform, Heidelberg, Quelle und Meyer, 1959, Chapter VII. A development of some lectures given in Heidelberg, based on his previous book, The New Belief in the Common Man.↩
87. Bibliography on the subject is not scarce. There is a concise and very instructive study by Gunnar Heckscher "Pluralish Democracy; the Swedish Experience", Social Research, December 1948. On the other hand, I am unacquainted a common misfortune for intellectuals in our part of the world with another book by this author which has been trans- lated into French, bearing the extremely explicit title: Démocratie Efficaces 1'Expérience Politique et Sociale des Pays Scandinaves, Paris, Presses Universitaires de France, 1957.↩
88. G. Myrdal, Beyond the Welfare State, New Haven, (Conn.), Yale University Press, 1960.↩
89. Ibid., p. 97.↩
90. R. M. Titmuss, Essays on the Welfare State, London, Allen and Unwin, 1958.↩
91. E. Forsthoff, Verfassungsprobleme des Sozialstaats, 1953.↩
92. Some interesting material on this subject has been collected in a book by the Chilean economist Luis Escobar Cerda, Organización para el Desarrollo Económico, Editorial Universitaria S.A., Santiago de Chile, 1961. However, the task is only at its beginning.↩
93. Karl Jaspers, Die Atombombe und die Zukunft des Menschen, R. Piper, Munich, 1948, p. 441.↩
94. Op. cit., p. 65. This is the fifth of the proposed research subjects.↩
95. R. Braibanti and S. S. Spengler, op. cit., p. 139.↩
96. David E. Apter and C. Rosberg, "Some Models of Political Change in Contemporary Africa" in The Political Economy of Contemporary Africa, National Institute of Social and Behavioural Sciences, Edited by D. P. Ray, Washington, D.C., 1959, and in other writings, especially by the first of these authors.↩
97. See Almond and Coleman, op. cit.↩
98. El desarrollo económico programado y la organización política (ST/ECLA/CONF.6/L.C-2b y Add.1)↩
99. Boletín Económico para América Latina, op.cit., p. 64↩
100. See A. Bergsträsser, Führung in der modernen Welt, Rombach, Freiburg, 1961.↩
101. Lectures at the University of Cordoba, Argentina, mentioned earlier.↩
102. See an excellent general account by Alfred Christmann, "Die Gewerkschaften in der industriellen Gesellschaft" in Hamburger Jahrbuch, Year 5.↩
103. André Philip, "Les Syndicats et la Démocratie Economique", in Revue de l'Institut de Sociologie, Brussels, Nos. 1-2, 1961.↩
104. Op.cit., p. 155. The affinity should be noted with the ideas of other authors referred to in the present study, such as Landshut.↩
105. The journal of the Institut Solvay (1961 Abs. 1-2) contains a number of cortributions to a symposium held in Geneva (May 1960) on this subject. Some are very valuable. But for a Latin American, the most inter- esting perhaps is that by Alain Touraine, "Situations ouvrieres et Types de Démocratie Economioue- not only, of course, because he expressly mentions some Spanish-American phenomena (loc.cit., p.40)↩