Role of the Military in Underdeveloped Countries 9781400878864

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THE ROLE OF THE MILITARY IN UNDERDEVELOPED COUNTRIES

THE ROLE OF THE MILITARY IN UNDERDEVELOPED COUNTRIES EDITED BY JOHN J. JOHNSON CONSULTANT TO THE R A N D CORPORATION

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PRINCETON, NEW JERSEY PRINCETON UNIVERSITY PRESS

Copyright © 196» by The RAND Corporation Published, 1962, by Princeton University Press AU Rights Reserved L.C. Card Number: 62-7406 Second Printing 1964 Third Printing 1967 Printed in the United States of America

PREFACE

I

N many of the new states that have emerged in the recent era of de-colonization the military play a vital role. As a revolutionary force they have contributed to the disintegration of traditional political order; as a stabilizing force they have kept some countries from fall­ ing prey to Communist rule; as a modernizing force they have been champions of middle-class aspirations or of popular demands for social change and have provided ad­ ministrative and technological skills to the civilian sector of countries in which such skills are scarce. Modern social science has made no serious and sustained effort to study the role of the military in the underde­ veloped countries on a comparative basis. We lack a social typology of soldiers. We have little knowledge of the extent to which the military are committed to ideas of indus­ trialization and free political institutions. Data on the social recruitment of officers in various underdeveloped countries are scarce. The relationship between the main­ tenance of internal order and the needs of national defense varies widely in the new states, but these variations have thus far eluded political theory. The paucity of informa­ tion on which comparative studies must be based is only one of the reasons for the halting effort of Western social scientists in this area of inquiry. Another reason is a time-honored intellectual bias. From the times of Auguste Comte and Herbert Spencer, when sociology became an independent discipline, "militarism" and "mili­ taristic" societies have been criticized as forms of life that are morally inferior to modern industrial society. All too often societies in which the military perform an important political role have been regarded in historical perspective as cruder, more "barbaric" forms of social organization, destined to be replaced as civilization "progressed" by ν

PREFACE

more liberal and more "rational" social structures. This bias has hampered the dispassionate study of the military profession in Western society by diverting the intellectual curiosity of sociologists to politically less important pro­ fessions; it has also made sociologists insensitive to the challenging task of contributing to the understanding of the "illiberal" aspects of life in non-Western societies. Most of what sociologists know today about the role of war and the military in Western society they have learned not from their colleagues but from historians, diplomats, and journalists; and the study of the military in modern nonWestern society is still in its infancy. In order to provide a forum for the exchange of informa­ tion and ideas on militarism, The RAND Corporation sponsored a conference held at Santa Monica in August 1959. This volume is the result of that conference. The papers presented herein focus on military-political develop­ ments in some of the newly emergent states of the Middle East, Southeast Asia, and Sub-Saharan Africa, and in the countries of Latin America. The authors are historians or political scientists who combine an interest in military affairs with a knowledge of a particular area of the world. Their thoughtful and realistic assessments of the contempo­ rary role of the military are a significant contribution to social and political analysis. Thanks are due to Professor John J. Johnson of Stanford University, the principal editor of the book, to Ciro E. Zoppo and William W. Taylor, both of The RAND Corporation, for reportorial and editorial services respec­ tively, and to Mrs. Joan Culver, who read the proofs and prepared the index. Hans Speier Chairman, Research Council The RAND Corporation

CONTENTS Preface

ν

Introduction

3

BY JOHN J. JOHNSON

The Military in the Political Development of the New States

7

BY EDWARD SHILS

Armies in the Process of Political Modernization

69

BY LUCIAN W. PYE

The Latin-American Military as a Politically Competing Group in Transitional Society

91

BY JOHN J. JOHNSON

Militarism and Politics in Latin America

131

BY EDWIN LIEUWEN

The Stages of Militarism in Latin America

165

BY VICTOR ALBA

The Role of the Military in Indonesia

185

BY GUY J. PAUKER

The Army in Burmese Politics

231

BY LUCIAN W. PYE

The Military in Thai Politics

253

BY DAVID A. WILSON

Middle Eastern Armies and the New Middle Class BY MANFRED HALPERN

277

CONTENTS T h e Role of the Military in Israel

317

T h e Role of the Military in Sub-Saharan Africa

359

BY BEN HALPERN

BY JAMES S. COLEMAN AND BELMONT BRICE, JR. Biographical Sketches of the Authors

407

Index

411

THE ROLE OF THE MILITARY IN UNDERDEVELOPED COUNTRIES

INTRODUCTION BY JOHN J. JOHNSON

I

N Central and South America, Africa, and Asia, hundreds of millions of people are struggling desper­ ately to acquire national personalities and to share the social and material advantages that more privileged societies take for granted. Old orders have crumbled or are crumbling. Leaders have turned their backs on ancient obligations and time-honored practices. The masses, who historically lacked the power of sustained indignation, have now served notice that they will no longer be dissuaded from seeking self-expression. Industrialization has been made synonymous with progress, and progress is demanded —by revolution if necessary. Tensions have built up and in some cases have reached sinister proportions. The locus of power has often shifted erratically, but always in favor of the new groups or those elements within established groups that are in the greatest hurry. Those in whose favor the stream of politics is running are convinced that their countries' problems are not exclusively their own, that they must and will have help from the outside. This volume examines the role of the armed forces in the profound and continuing transformation that much of the world is experiencing. The authors are invariably more concerned with those officers who have used armies for extramilitary purposes than with those who have devoted themselves to preparing for armed combat. In particular they have addressed themselves to the problems of why transitional societies apparently find it easier to create modern armies than most other modern structures, and why armed forces that have not distinguished themselves on any battlefield and that prepare for wars that never

INTRODUCTION

or seldom occur are allotted such a large share of the national income. The basic search throughout, however, is for indications of how politicians in uniform compete with nationalists, state-oriented bureaucrats, and Western­ ized intellectuals. And when officers seize power from civilians, as they have on innumerable occasions in soci­ eties at all stages of development, their charismatic qualities and administrative and organizational skills are scrutinized, among other reasons, for an answer to the question of why military governments have promoted national develop­ ment and democratic practices in some countries and have been a retarding influence in others. The reader may be impressed with the similarities in the reasons that the military adduce for becoming involved in civilian affairs in such diverse cultures as those found in the Western Hemisphere, the Middle East, Asia, and Africa. He may also be impressed with the numerous times that the failure of civilian leaders to act relevantly and consistently has paved the way for the military to pene­ trate civilian institutions. The thoughtful reader who finishes the volume may want to reflect even further than we who wrote it on the many alternatives open to the young revolutionary, modest and egalitarian in spirit, when he becomes a middle-aged militarist, enjoying the perquisites of office, the symbols of status, and the benefits of power. In addition to the general themes and problems that this broad view of militarism presents, each of the major areas of the developing world has its own contribution to make to a better understanding of the military problem. Latin America affords unusual opportunities to study militarism in depth since many of the twenty republics have been governed by their armies throughout much of their independent existences, which in most cases date from the early nineteenth century. Every one of these re-

INTRODUCTION

publics teaches a bitter lesson in personalistic control based on military force. Some of the states that have at­ tained a relatively high degree of cultural maturity and have broadened their political bases may serve for the study of the decline of personalism and the rise of mili­ tarism on an institutional basis—the junta—or even for the conditions under which militarism may decline. If Burma, Thailand, and Indonesia may be considered representative of the newly independent nations of South­ east Asia, then that region is probably the best one in which to observe the military as a modernizing and West­ ernizing influence. Burma and Thailand afford an addi­ tional and unusual opportunity for examining the effects of military training on political behavior and values, be­ cause their civilian and military bureaucracies come from the same social and economic groups and in many cases from the same families. In the Middle East, militarism is in full flower, and the roles of the military are as diverse as the countries they dominate. Some armies are of recent origin, progressive, and motivated by nonprofessional incentives. They are concerned for their countries' dignity. They have taken upon themselves the task of giving dynamic impetus to radical change. Others are only gradually divesting them­ selves of values that were institutionalized far in the past. But whether the armed forces are new, transitional, or traditional, it is abundantly clear that militarism is well entrenched in the Middle East and that a greater effort than most countries can now muster will be needed to dislodge it. But in the midst of the instability that characterizes the Middle East is newly created and highly stable Israel. It is this country that provides impressive proof that new states, created under relatively favorable conditions, do not have to turn to their armed forces for political, social, and

INTRODUCTION

economic leadership, even when they are surrounded, as Israel is, by neighbors who have submitted to the domina­ tion of their armed forces. Israel, then, can serve as a check against hasty generalizations about the role of the military in emerging states. Sub-Saharan Africa has been largely isolated from major military conflicts during the modern era, and many re­ sponsible world leaders are promoting the idea of neutrali­ zation of the new African states. But it appears that each of the new sovereign entities will create some type of mili­ tary establishment, either with the assistance of a single world power or by diversifying its dependency relation­ ships regarding all forms of aid and external involvements. It appears equally certain that the military forces that are formed will be the least developed in the contemporary world. The new states of Sub-Saharan Africa may thus prove to be richly productive laboratories for an analysis of the behavior of leaders of armies without traditions and with limited capabilities as modernizing and stabilizing forces in their relations with civilian officials and civilian institutions. This volume, as Dr. Speier has pointed out in the Preface, was born of a conference on militarism in the developing states. It was decided to give the contributors a free hand, except that they were requested not to con­ cern themselves with policy-making. Each article bears the stamp of its author's personality, interests, and intellectual orientation. Policy recommendations are kept to a mini­ mum, although the volume contains much from which policy decisions could logically stem.

THE MILITARY IN THE POLITICAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE NEW STATES BY EDWARD SHILS*

O

F the more than thirty states acquiring sovereignty since the end of the Second World War, the mili­ tary forces have played an important political role in at least ten. In only a few of the new states did the armed forces, mostly as guerrilla formations, play a significant role in attaining independence. In Israel, Cyprus, and the successor states of Indo-China, guerrilla armies were very important in leading the British and the French to grant independence to these countries. In Indonesia and Burma, the guerrilla forces created during the Japanese occupation played a modest and by no means decisive part in the lib­ eration of their countries from foreign rule. In at least six of the new states, the military, although of no great moment in the attainment of sovereignty, has taken a central position in the political life of the country. Paki­ stan, Iraq, Sudan, the United Arab Republic, and the Republic of Korea are now under military rule. In Jordan, such security as the monarchy enjoys rests on the army. In Burma, the army insisted on its right to govern for many months; in Indonesia, the army and the President are bal­ anced in a relationship of mutual distrust and dependence; in Lebanon, the army deliberately refrained from participa­ tion in the fitful civil war, and ultimately the care of the public weal was taken over by a general. In India, notable among all the new states for the stable subordination of the military to the civil power, one of the major political crises * Sections of this essay are drawn by the author from his longer study, Political Development in the Nexv States, Mouton and Company, The Hague, 1962.

EDWARD SHILS

of recent years broke out over the alleged efforts of the Defense Minister to politicize the army. In the Congo, the mutiny in the ranks of the Force Publique shattered the regime, and such internal support as the feeble govern­ ment of M. Adoula has possessed rests on the tolerance of the fragmentarily reconstituted army. In Latin America, the armed forces historically have played a role similar to that of the military in many of the new states of Asia and Africa. The older, better-established states of the West and the Communist states disclose a rather different relationship between the military and the civil sectors of the elite. In most of these countries, the military has considerable influence over foreign and de­ fense policy, but it plays very little part in domestic policy or its administration. In the United States and France, respectively, General Eisenhower has held and General de Gaulle now holds the highest position of state, but neither their incumbency nor their administration was the in­ tended result of actions of the armed forces. Even Germany, where the glory of the warrior was more prized than in other Western countries and where the army contributed to the downfall of the Weimar Republic, was never ruled by the army in the way that so many of the new states have been ruled during their brief existence. How are we to account for this prominence of the mili­ tary in Asian and African societies where, on the whole, martial accomplishments have not headed the list of public virtues and where, with a few exceptions, the mili­ tary has not distinguished itself on the battlefield? The ascendancy of the military in the domestic life of these states has been a response to the difficulties which the new states have encountered in their efforts to establish themselves as modern sovereignties. Yet a newly auton­ omous regime need not inevitably yield, sooner or later, to rule by the military. The fact that it has in the new

POLITICAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE NEW STATES

states is evidence that there are weaknesses in them which are not compensated by those political institutions which were inherited or established at the moment of independ­ ence. These political institutions were mainly parlia­ mentary, more or less democratic, and liberal. Military rule is one of several practicable and apparently stable alternatives when parliamentary, democratic regimes falter. The inherited and the newly engendered obstacles over which these regimes have been stumbling are more deter­ minative than the aspirations of the military elites of these states, although the latter are not unimportant. We shall, therefore, focus our inquiry on the political and intellectual elites of the new states, examining their political skills as well as the inherited culture and social structure which they attempt to govern and transform in their pursuit of modernity. There are very few states today which do not aspire to modernity. Not all of them, and not all the sectors of their elites, pursue each of the constituent elements of moder­ nity with equal vigor and zeal. Nonetheless, in practically every new state, the drive toward modernity is a major factor in the country's public life. The leaders of both old and new states feel a pressing necessity to espouse policies that will modernize their nations. Among the elites of the new states, to be "modern" means to be dynamic, concerned with the people, demo­ cratic and egalitarian, scientific, economically advanced, sovereign, and influential. The elites must range them­ selves against the ancien regime of landlords, sheikhs, chiefs, rajahs, and grand viziers in both the old and the constitutional forms. Even when they affirm the past of their country, they must stress its adaptability to present needs. Modernity entails democracy, and democracy in the new states, even where it is not representative, must above all

EDWARD SHILS

be egalitarian. To the elites οf the new states, modernity therefore entails the dethronement of the rich and the traditionally privileged. It involves breaking up large private estates, especially those which are owned by ab­ sentee landlords. It involves universal suffrage, even where the suffrage is exercised through the acclamation of a singleparty ticket. It requires breaking the power of traditional interests of chiefs, sultans, and priests; and replacing mon­ archies by republics, which often maintain a similar con­ centration of authority. Modernity demands universal public education and equality of access to opportunities for entering into the more influential and better-rewarded positions with which even an egalitarian regime cannot dispense. To be a "modern" democracy implies, according to the prevailing conception in the new states, that the rulers should be answerable to the people for their actions. Where the rulers are not in fact so answerable, through a legislature which is popularly and periodically elected, then they allege that they exercise a stewardship on behalf of the people, and that they are answerable to the collective will— that higher will which is more real than the empirical will of their people. To be modern is to be scientific. This means, in princi­ ple, that a modern state sets it face against such super­ stitious practices as divination, magic, and astrology as guides in policy-making. The elites usually claim to believe that progress rests on rational technology, and ultimately on scientific knowledge. Hence, progress involves the pro­ motion of scientific research and the utilization of its results for the common good. Education is commonly re­ garded as one way of diffusing the scientific outlook among the new generation, of breaking the hold of traditional beliefs and of the traditional privileges associated with them. The proponents of modernity—elites and counterelites—

POLITICAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE NEW STATES

assert that no country is modern unless it is economically advanced or progressive. To be advanced economically means to be industrialized and to have a high standard of living. No country can aspire to modernity and ignore its economic improvement. All this requires planning, employing economists and statisticians, conducting sur­ veys, controlling the rates of saving and investment, con­ trolling imports and foreign exchange, constructing new factories, building roads and harbors, developing railways, irrigation schemes, fertilizer production, agricultural re­ search, forestry research, etc. These call for modern tech­ niques of administration. To the elites of the new states, modernity seems often to call for the primacy of tech­ nology, of a technological outlook, and of persons with technological training. Technology is associated with effi­ ciency in administration and, above all, with honesty. Cor­ ruption in administration is a constant preoccupation of counterelites, to whom it is the hallmark of both the old regime and its heirs. Modernity requires national sovereignty, which, in the minds of its supporters, presupposes the existence of a nation which rules itself through indigenous organs and persons. With or without representative institutions, the modern sovereign state is held to embody the essence of its society. National sovereignty means not only autonomy, but also an influential and respected place as a modern nation on the world stage. The elites are extremely sensi­ tive to their country's status among their neighbors and in the world at large, and particularly to any slights or humiliations. "Modern" means being Western without depending on the West. The model of modernity is a picture of the West detached in some way from its geographical setting; it permits Soviet Russia and China to affirm ideals with a

EDWARD SHILS

Western content while they remain politically and emo­ tionally anti-Western. The new states are not yet modern. The states of West­ ern Europe and of North America (and the English-speak­ ing dominions of the British Commonwealth) need not aspire to modernity. They are modern. Modernity is part of their very nature. The image of the Western countries and the partial incorporation and transformation of that image in the Soviet Union provide the standards and models in whose light the elites of the new states of Asia and Africa seek to reshape themselves. The new states are "non-Western." They are Asian and African states. Not all the states of Asia and Africa are new: Japan is not, nor are China, Liberia, Iran, Afghan­ istan, Ethiopia, and Thailand. These states have enjoyed sovereignty for a long time. The South American states are not new; they too have had their sovereignty for a long time, although for the most part they have not become modern. They exist in an intermediate zone between the modern, longer-established states and the unmodern new states. Indonesia, Malaya, Burma, India, Ceylon, Pakistan, Iraq, the United Arab Republic, Lebanon, Jordan, Israel, Cyprus, Saudi Arabia, Sudan, Somalia, Morocco, Tunisia, Libya, Cambodia, Laos, Viet-Nam, Ghana, Guinea, the Philippines, the Republic of Korea, Mali, Senegal, the Republic of the Congo and the Congo Republic, Chad, Upper Volta, Ivory Coast, Niger and Nigeria, Madagascar, Mauritania, Gabon, Kuwait, and Tanganyika are all new states. Their acquisition of sovereignty is either relatively recent or just now occurring. Their societies are old and governed by tradition. The states which rule them, how­ ever, are more or less recent creations, even in those areas where independent sovereign status once existed. They are the results of the recession of Western imperialism.

POLITICAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE NEW STATES

The new states o£ Asia and Africa have the following properties in common: a) They have recently acquired independent sovereignty after a substantial period of foreign, predominantly West­ ern, rule; their indigenous machinery of government is of fairly recent origin. b) Their social structure, economy, and culture are, on the whole, highly traditional. Above all, their central political traditions do not include those of democratic, representative constitutional government. c) Significant sections of their elites are concerned to transform the society, the culture, and the political life and outlook of these societies; they aspire to modernity. The confluence of these three properties defines the new states as a significant category.1 THE DETERMINANTS OF POLITICAL DEVELOPMENT

The institutions of government, central and auxiliary, with which the new states have begun their sovereign careers are being resisted by the old societies which they must govern and they are being pulled by the ideal of modernity. In this process, the old societies and the ideal of modernity are both changing, but in so doing they are pressing hard against governmental institutions. The resultant political order interests us here. Thus, ι New states are not alone in most of their problems. For example, longestablished states, such as Ethiopia or Thailand, are characterized by the traditionality of their social structure; and many states with a long history of continuous sovereignty are the scene of conflict between attachment to tradition and the drive toward modernity. Almost all countries outside Western Europe and possibly the United States experience the culture tension between metropolis and province. Numerous problems in the new states are instances of more general classes of problems which are shared by many states, Western and non-Western, new and old, advanced and underdeveloped, sovereign and colonial. The new states present, however, a unique constellation of problems.

EDWARD SHILS

we shall survey the stock of available resources in social structure, cultural tradition, and human qualities and skills with which this journey toward modernity is being undertaken. We shall also try to estimate the influence that these resources exert on the survival of the political regime which commences the journey and on the form which the regime might assume as the journey advances, hesitates, or stops. More particularly, we shall attempt to estimate their influence on the emergence and subsequent fortunes of a militarily dominated regime. Social Structure KINSHIP, TERRITORY, AND COMMUNITY

In the societies of the new states, although to very un­ equal degrees, the status of a human being is very much a function of his kinship and—in certain societies—of his caste and his linguistic community. These things stand in the way of the ordinary man's becoming a citizen and of the elite's ruling on behalf of the whole community. The rural kinship system and, where it exists, the caste system obstruct the entry of the rural mass into the citi­ zenry of the modern nation, for they confine the loyalties of the ordinary man to a narrow, locally circumscribed range. By the same token, they favor the emergence of leaders who serve these parochial interests. Parochial loyalties hinder the workings of the rule of law; deviations from the rule of law in favor of one related to the official or judge by kinship or locality cause the lower classes to feel that the government is corrupt. As a result, the "political gap" between rulers and ruled be­ comes a major fact of life and a challenge to every modern type of polity. The parochialism of kinship, caste, and locality makes it difficult to create stable and coherent nation-wide parties.

POLITICAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE NEW STATES

Parties tend to become cliques or aggregations of bosses and their clients. Insofar as the regime operates within a more or less democratic constitution and is not dominated by the one great party of national independence, the gov­ ernment tends to be an uneasy coalition of sectional in­ terests. Even the Congress-like party of independence shows signs of parochial interest once the goal of independ­ ence has been attained and particularly when nationalist enthusiasm begins to fade. When a government is considered to represent particular kinship, caste, or local interests, each section of society is fearful of being exploited and suppressed by others. The effectiveness of government is thereby weakened. Yet to accredit themselves, the governments of the new states must be effective and strong enough to satisfy some of the de­ mands made of them. If they fumble or seem to favor their own caste or community, they alienate the politically sensi­ tive section of the society and thus accentuate the gap be­ tween government and governed. CLASS STRUCTURE

The economic and social "underdevelopment" of the new states of Asia and Africa is manifested in the size and structure of the urban middle classes. The small retail traders are largely illiterate, with little modern culture and few modern economic skills. In many new states, the larger enterprisers in commerce and finance are ethnically distinct from the rest of the population: e.g., the Chinese in Southeast Asia; the Indians in East Africa; the Syrians and Lebanese in West Africa; the Scotsmen, Englishmen, and Americans in India, Ceylon, and Pakistan, etc.; and within the Indian population in Calcutta and Bombay, the special communities—such as Marwaris and Parsis— in industry, commerce, and finance. There is an underrepresentation of modern middle-class professionals, i.e.,

EDWARD SHILS

university teachers, school teachers, physicians, scientists, engineers, nurses, agronomists, chemists, etc. This is a re­ sult partly of the economy of the new states, which affords few opportunities in the tertiary occupations, and partly of the long preemption of the best of these posts by Euro­ peans, as well as of the continued dependence on expatri­ ates for many professional services of a more specialized sort. Lower-level civil servants, clerks in commercial firms, and lawyers constitute a disproportionately large share of the more or less educated urban middle classes of the new states. As primarily peasant societies, the new states also lack a stratum of highly skilled industrial workers and of lower-level supervisory workers. The gulf that separates the most powerful and the most wealthy (foreign businessmen, plutocrats, the wealthier lawyers and doctors, high civil servants, and leading politi­ cians) from the least powerful and the poorest leads the mass of the population, and especially the politically inter­ ested middle class—if it is not among the chief beneficiaries of the incumbent government—to believe that the govern­ ment acts almost exclusively on behalf of the wealthy. Though occupation and wealth are increasingly signifi­ cant criteria of status in the societies of the new states, they are by no means the only ones. Kinship, caste, and religious attachment are others, but the new ones are growing in importance in the "modern sectors" of the population. Their growth will intensify still further the differences between the rich and the poor and will supplement caste, linguistic, and ethnic considerations as obstacles to the formation of a comprehensive consensus. The resentments that these inequalities generate are less overtly expressed than in Western countries. The new states lack the organized infra-structure necessary for their effective expression. Also, there is such a tradition of hier-

POLITICAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE NEW STATES

archy in these societies that the expression of hostility tends to be inhibited much of the time. Resentments, however, are bound to grow as the new states become more urbanized—as they certainly will be­ come in the course of economic development and adminis­ trative expansion. The gap in the newly forming class structure will be transformed into hostility through the "politicization" engendered by universal suffrage. As class consciousness becomes more pronounced, the extreme eco­ nomic inequality of the societies of the new states is likely to have disruptive consequences. Because there are still few traditions of disciplined class conflict in the new states and because the infra-structural institutions through which such conflict can be conducted are still very poorly de­ veloped (i.e., the trade-union movement, collective bar­ gaining machinery, etc.), class conflict in the new states might well become more violent than in the older, betterestablished political societies of the West. How does this type of class structure affect the conduct of the military vis-a-vis the political order? In societies like those of the Middle East, with few opportunities for social mobility, in which the economies are not rapidly expanding and in which there is no corresponding increase in educational opportunities in the posts in the tertiary sector, the army tends to recruit into its officer ranks the brightest and most ambitious young men of the small towns and countryside. These young men often come from the families of petty traders, small craftsmen, and cultivators of small holdings. Like their fathers, they are aware of the distance separating them from the rich and the political elite. Thus there is brought into a potentially powerful position in society a body of intelligent, ambitious young men, equipped with a modicum of modern technical edu­ cation but with little sense of identity with politicians and big businessmen.

EDWARD SHILS

Where, on the contrary, the economy expands rapidly and where there is a corresponding increase in chances for social ascent in the civilian sphere, the military is less likely to attract such a large proportion of the more vigorous and more gifted. Hence, the likelihood of a stratum of young officers, resentful against the established order and isolated from its leading spokesmen, is diminished. EDUCATIONAL STRUCTURE

The uneducated: The gap in the structure of territorial loyalty and in the class structure is paralleled by a wide divergence in the styles of life and the associated outlooks of those with a modern (Western) education and those without it. Nothing is quite comparable to this in Western countries, where the least and best educated share the same language and, to some extent, an attachment to certain important symbols. It is not so much what education teaches as it is the fact that the experience of having been to school, especially in countries with a steeply graded system of social stratifica­ tion and a tradition of the superiority of religious educa­ tion, gives people an enhanced feeling of their own value. It makes them feel themselves to be closer to the center of the larger society. Correspondingly, those who are not educated tend to feel inferior. The continuation of the traditional modes of education leaves the ordinary person apathetic to what goes on out­ side his kinship group and locality. Thus, links which would relate the mind to symbols of the wider world, and unite local and kinship groups with the national society, are prevented from forming. Illiteracy restricts the capacity for rendering thoughtful judgment on national issues. It fortifies the belief that the government at the center is alien to the ordinary man and is interested only in main­ taining and enriching itself.

P O L I T I C A L D E V E L O P M E N T O F T H E N E W STATES

Nonetheless, it should be added that illiteracy is not necessarily a total barrier against all realistic political judg­ ment. The illiterate peasant or trader is often extremely shrewd about local issues and about his and his commu­ nity's immediate interests. He is often sharp-witted in scru­ tinizing the performance of his representatives and of those who lay claim to his suffrage. He will often have a sharp eye for deficiencies in the political elite and will be quick to detect local evidence of its misdeeds. The intellectuals: The educated have attended modern schools, where they have been taught by Westerners or by pupils of Westerners. Many of them have had their higher education in the West, and these represent the standard by which other educated persons measure themselves. In their attitude toward what is valuable in life, they diverge considerably from the ordinary members of their societies. They believe in science; they believe in the value of rational administration and written law and order. They believe in planning and in large-scale schemes. Their minds are often on what is happening abroad, and certain metro­ politan books and periodicals are more important for most of them than their inherited sacred texts and myths. They are often more concerned about the international status of their country than they are about the people in village and bush. Being somewhat detribalized—though less com­ pletely than they themselves often believe—they think more in terms of their nation than in terms of lineage and local groups. The fulfillment of their unprecedented responsibilities is made difficult by the structure of the societies in which they live, by the general cultural traditions of the learned and the spiritually endowed in their societies, and by their own traditions as modern intellectuals. The intellectuals in the new countries have received their education in countries where there is a growing

EDWARD SHILS

sensitivity to poverty, inequality, and injustice. Coming for the most part from states where the learned and the spirit­ ual have had an aversion to the pursuit of wealth, they have been greatly attracted by socialistic solutions of social and economic problems. Insofar as they are not apathetic or cynical, they are urgently insistent on rapid economic progress. They are inclined, therefore, to espouse largescale actions designed for quick results. At the same time, these intellectuals are rather antipolitical. Though extremely critical of practically all poli­ ticians and contemptuous of party leaders, they do not provide leadership for an affirmatively critical public opin­ ion. The public opinion which they represent is seldom constructive. When it is, it is seldom heeded. This drives them further into opposition, rather than into a relation­ ship of positive criticism and discriminating guidance. Their disposition to extremist solutions is supported by another feature of the intellectual's position, his ambiv­ alence toward the people with whom he grew up. Often impatient with traditions and with those who espouse and live by them, he sometimes claims to prefer the outlook of the uneducated. He is at times willing to flatter tradi­ tional beliefs for political purposes while really viewing them as "prejudices" and "superstitions." Nonetheless, the modern intellectual in the new states often does have a yearning for deeper contact with the indigenous culture in which he was brought up and with which he is fre­ quently insufficiently acquainted. These dispositions pro­ duce a form of "populism" which, alleging to speak on behalf of "the people," deals with political opponents as alien to the traditional culture, as enemies of "the people." The traditions of "independence politics," along with the intellectual's ambivalence toward his own culture and his preoccupation with things foreign, all make for his political alienation. Those new states which inherited an

POLITICAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE NEW STATES

elaborate network of institutions of higher study produce talented, well-qualified persons who participate responsibly in the public life of their countries. But they also produce many who do not fit in, either because there is no demand for their services or because they are not regarded as suffi­ ciently or appropriately qualified. Feeling neglected and contemned by their society and especially by those who rule them, they either withdraw into an apolitical state of mind and inaction, or they support those movements which promise to make a "clean sweep." Political passivity is contrary to the tradition which the intellectuals inherit from the struggle for independence. The conditions of that struggle and the role which the educated played in it, along with the leftist inclinations of many of the intellectuals and those indigenous tradi­ tions which require the learned to be the ultimate force in the polity—all these give further impulse to this "politicization." This has diverse ramifications. Among intellectuals as well as among politicians, it results in the demand that intellectuals participate actively and immediately in party politics. If they do not, they are accused of shirking their responsibilities. During the early years of the new states, this demand tends to breed distrust between the politicians who actually rule the country and the politicized intel­ lectuals who do not share this responsibility. For the latter, the result is often a disillusioned, antipolitical attitude. This development is accentuated by another change in the relationship between intellectuals and politicians that comes with freedom. During the early years of the national­ ist movement, politics were usually in the hands of fairly sophisticated, well-educated men, mainly lawyers and a few businessmen. The nationalist movement enjoyed its great­ est success, however, only when it came into the hands of populist leaders, who, whatever their educational qualifica-

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tions, put themselves forward as representatives of the traditional culture, as plain sons of the people. They sought to distinguish themselves from their forerunners, whom they derogated as "out of touch with the people." Many of the younger intellectuals approved this belittlement of their elders. When independence was attained and the second generation of nationalist leaders had to take over the burdensome privilege of power, the intellectuals' ad­ miration for the heroic reasserted itself against the drabness and Philistinism of the ruling politicians. The latter responded with the same hostility toward their quondam allies as they had earlier shown toward their predecessors. The tension was renewed. In consequence, the intellec­ tuals, while still feeling that rightfully they belong among the rulers, also feel that they are spurned by the very state for whose coming they had worked and dreamed. This has strengthened the "antipolitical politics," the politics of withdrawal, which have been growing among the intel­ lectuals of the new states. This is not, however, a universal phenomenon. In nearly every new state, and particularly in those under the tradi­ tion of British rule, there are at least some civic-spirited, realistic, and responsible intellectuals, devoted to the pub­ lic good, critical and yet sympathetic, interested in the political growth of their society and yet detached enough from immediate partisanship to constitute a corps of cus­ todians of the public good in the present and the future. In each country, they form only a small proportion of the intellectual class. The technical and executive intellectuals: A new sector of the intellectual class has been in process of emergence. This is the technical and executive intelligentsia—chemists, engineers, accountants, statisticians—who do not share in the older political traditions of their country's intellectuals and who resemble the new intellectual class of the more

POLITICAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE NEW STATES

advanced countries. They are generally more specialized and professional, more Philistine and less widely interested in cultural and political matters, than their immediate predecessors. It is on these technical and executive intel­ lectuals that the emergence of a stable and progressive civil society depends. Commissioned officers of the armed forces, particularly those in the junior and middle grades, are a part of this technical-executive intelligentsia. Their training includes such modern subjects as administration, communications, mechanical and civil engineering, and ballistics. It is specialized, technical, and nonhumanistic. It contains little of the indigenous culture or of the literary and political culture acquired by other sectors of the intellectual class. In countries like the successor states of the Ottoman Em­ pire in the Middle East or the Netherlands East Indies, where the rulers did little to create either a modern literarypolitical or a modern technical-administrative intelligent­ sia, the military officer class represents a disproportionately large sector of the modern intelligentsia. Under these con­ ditions, they have become the major representatives of modernity in technology and administration. When the state flounders and civilian politicians make a mess of things, these officers feel that the standards given them by their training are affronted. TOWN AND COUNTRYSIDE

The gap in the social structure of the new states is again manifested in the wide disparity between the degree of modernization of the countryside and that of the large towns. Modernization is concentrated in a few large urban centers and, within these centers, to a small proportion of the whole. The rest of the society remains bound within the traditional form of life. Even the great national leaders who succeeded in transforming national liberation from

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a movement of the modern elite into a mass movement did not greatly change the balance. The mass of the village population are the objects, not the initiators, of moderni­ zation and of the political activities which seek to effect it. Their preferences and responses are of much concern to the political elite, but they do not participate in the dia­ logue of rulers and ruled. They become politically inter­ ested largely around election time. Even then their interest remains immediate and local, not national. The big cities are the centers of innovation, not just technological but political as well. The best journalists, the more forceful lawyers, the politically alert businessmen and technologists, the most eminent professors, the urban mob, the "verandah boys" spoiling for a fight, the students ready to protest and demonstrate, are concentrated in the cities. Except at elections, when candidates are often very seriously questioned about what they would do about some local grievance, the countryside leads a slumbering political existence. The politicians sometimes act as if it did not even exist. This does not go entirely unnoticed by the villagers who, reinforced in their distrust of the urbanized poli­ ticians and the educated, charge them with turning against the traditions of their people. The junior-officer class, especially in the Middle East, participates in this cleavage between the big city and vil­ lage and countryside. As the offspring of small landowners, of village craftsmen and traders, the young officers acquire some of the antiurban prejudices of their environment. They regard the upper classes of the big cities as the bearers of an effete and decadent culture; and when they become nationalists, they condemn the xenophilia of the educated and prosperous. They are apt to be puritanical because of both their upbringing and the disciplined existence of the barracks. Much of their time may be spent in garri­ sons, far from those with a comparable amount of educa-

POLITICAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE NEW STATES

tion. To them, the big city appears to be a theater of garrulous, self-indulgent politicians, of chattering journal­ ists, and of sybaritic idlers. Politics and urbanity become identified in their minds, and, in any event, singularly useless for remedying the nation's ills. ECONOMIC DEVELOPMENT

The new states are all rather low on those lists that rank countries according to their per capita income. The modern intellectuals of the new states, who provide the economists, civil servants, and trade-union leadership, are intensely and almost universally for economic progress. They differ about its rate of growth and especially about the policies that are promulgated by the political elite, but they have no doubts about its urgent desirability. There is little evidence of an intense and persistent de­ mand for economic progress by the mass of the peasantry. The industrial working class is too negligible in most of the new states for its members' views to be a major force, although their trade-union leaders are very strongly for economic development as long as it causes no additional hardship to their constituents. The entrepreneurial classes tend to be mercantile and financial—fields in which the political elites do not seek economic progress. The industrial entrepreneurial class is very small and usually operates on a rather small scale— apart from large foreign firms. There are some middle-sized indigenously owned industrial firms and a large number of very small handicraft enterprises. The political elites do not expect these industrial enterprises to contribute greatly to the economic progress of their society, although they do contribute substantially in many new states. Whatever their achievement at the higher level of policy, private enter­ prises fall under the prejudice of intellectuals and intel­ lectual-politicians.

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For a variety of reasons, therefore, economic develop­ ment is conceived as a major task of government. This necessitates large increases in the size of the civil service and in its powers, particularly in the powers of the politi­ cians and higher civil servants responsible for economic development. The political repercussions are considerable. The extension of the size of the civil service is, in one aspect, a force for social stability, since, by giving employ­ ment to university and high-school graduates, it reduces their susceptibility to the wiles of demagogic and extremist agitators. Yet its great growth necessarily makes contact with it more frustrating for people who must deal with it. Meanwhile, at the upper levels of the political and ad­ ministrative elite, the vast sums of money which must be expended for objects and in modes alien to traditions of both the politicians and the higher civil service increase the chances of corruption and certainly the number of accusations. The more puritanical sections of the society (especially the army, whose members are in the Germanic and British military tradition) are keenly sensitive to these rumors. These tendencies, in some of the new states, are accentuated by wastefulness and corruption in the use of economic aid from the more advanced states. In countries where aid is intended for both military and economic purposes, the military becomes involved willy-nilly and so becomes even more sensitive to corruption and more criti­ cal of the politicians and civil servants whom it holds responsible. A third political consequence of policies of governmentally controlled economic development arises from the success or failure of these policies, and the ratio of the actual success to the promised success. Despite corruption in the management of economic de­ velopment and bureaucratic incompetence, the new states

POLITICAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE NEW STATES

are being considerably, though variously, strengthened by these development policies. The standard of living of certain classes improves, more economical uses are made of certain resources, etc. The elite is under pressure from its own members, from its competitors in other factions, and from public opinion, to hasten toward great goals. Hence, it often imposes uncongenial reforms on the peasantry and small businessmen. Resentment is increased thereby. More importantly, it makes the elite impatient of obstacles and fearful of criticism. The large-scale programs of economic development being undertaken in the new states strain the already infirm foundations of political democracy. Such a program increases social mobility, which gives opportunities to both the more skilled and the more unscrupulous. It urbanizes and modernizes, and thus affronts those whose attachment to traditional patterns of action and belief is very strong. It usually increases economic inequality and makes it more strikingly visible. It raises expectations and exacerbates demands in the most reactive sections of the population. All these consequences are injurious to political stability, especially in countries where the political and adminis­ trative elites lack experience and self-confidence. Yet with­ out considerable economic progress, the new states would have no chance to become democratic. Extremely poor, tradition-bound people with a primitive technology could not develop the social differentiation and personal indi­ viduality necessary for democracy. Without education (which can be paid for only by a more productive econ­ omy), without better communications, without a bigger middle class and possibly a more developed economic system, democracy would stand little chance. The balance of probabilities is extremely close.

EDWARD SHILS THE STRUCTURE OF AUTHORITY

With considerable variations, the predominant tendency in the societies of the new states is for authority to be hierarchical and sacral. Whole sections of the population have no share in its exercise. Apart from the state, the major institutions of authority are the kinship and lineage groups and the religious and caste communities. None of these is voluntary. In many, there is no publicly acknowl­ edged mode of contending for positions of influence. The infra-structures for collaboration in the pursuit of private interests and for the exercise of influence in the wider society are largely lacking. The chief effect of the hierarchical structure of authority in both the traditional and the modern sectors of society is to generate either excessive submissiveness among the ordinary people or an extremist egalitarianism as a reaction against it. And the underdeveloped state of the infra-struc­ ture of voluntary associations on a local level and outside the cities deepens the silence of the countryside in matters of day-to-day political concern. It increases the disregard for the interests of the poor in the villages, from whom the chief politicians and highest administrators are sepa­ rated by class, caste, education, and culture. All these factors favor an oligarchy, not least a military oligarchy. By tradition, and perhaps by necessity, the mili­ tary is a hierarchy and regards such an order as reasonable. It regards the unquestioning execution of decisive and un­ ambiguous commands as right. It is impatient with the nattering of "public opinion." It is willing to accept the submissiveness of the mass of the population but is sym­ pathetic toward the poor of the village and countryside, in whose interests the urbanized politicians pretend to speak. In these various ways, the tradition of hierarchical au­ thority creates a situation which is itself a temptation, for

POLITICAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE NEW STATES

those who share that tradition, to arrogate political power to themselves. THE GAP IN THE SOCIAL STRUCTURE

In almost every aspect of their social structures, the societies on which the new states must be based are char­ acterized by a gap. It is the gap between the few very rich and the mass of the poor, between the educated and the uneducated, between the townsman and the villager, be­ tween the cosmopolitan or national and the local, between the modern and the traditional, between the rulers and the ruled. Almost every feature of the social structure of the new states conspires to separate the ordinary people from their government. This is a fundamental fact of life of the new states. Indeed, it renders certain elements of tutelary democracy almost inevitable, if a regime is to be demo­ cratic at all. The gap might be described as a result of a high concentration of initiative and interest in the ruling circle. Such a regime can probably accomplish a great deal in many important respects, but it cannot create a political society. What is needed is the dispersion of initiative and interest more widely throughout society. Meanwhile, as long as the gap endures, it will provide a temptation to a nationalistic, populistic counterelite. When the civilian elite has difficulty in finding its way, military elite with clear and simple convictions will feel called upon to offer itself as the proper agent of its closure. Culture TRADITIONALLY

The societies in which the new states have come into existence are traditional societies. Some of their tradi­ tional beliefs incline toward democracy in government or

EDWARD SHILS

toward initiative in enterprise. But even where the sub­ stance of belief is congruent with greater democracy and progress, the general disposition to accept what has been accepted in the past directs the course against modernity. The substance of the traditional beliefs is also uncon­ genial to modernity. Most traditional societies lack the elements of civil politics. Citizenship is not among their virtues. Fealty to rulers, respect for the aged, bravery in war, obligations to one's Mn, responsiveness to the tran­ scendent powers which make and destroy men's lives— these are their virtues. A concern for the well-being of the whole population, irrespective of ethnic and kinship bonds, is not so widely diffused. Individuality, creativity, the empirical attitude, adaptive efficiency, an indifference to or disbelief in the efficacy of supernatural forces, the freedom of the individual, eco­ nomic progress, a concern for national unity and dignity, and an interest in the larger world have little place in the outlook for the ordinary peasant or factory worker, handi­ craftsman, small-scale trader, or old-style moneylender. Traditionality, however, does not create insuperable obstacles to the development of a modern polity. Tradi­ tions often possess sufficient ambiguity, and hence flexi­ bility, to accommodate innovations. Nor do they always form a rigorously unitary whole. Many traditional beliefs are the consequences of having no alternative beliefs. Once alternatives become available, what once appeared to be immutable may yield to change. Nonetheless, traditional beliefs do have an inherent tendency toward self-reproduction and mutual support. The intertwinement of the institutions of kinship, govern­ ment, and landownership and cultivation within a locality sustains traditional beliefs and practices and resists assimila­ tion into a more modern culture and a larger national polity.

POLITICAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE NEW STATES PAROCHIALISM, NATIONALITY, AND NATIONALISM

The parochialism of the societies of the new states is supported by tradition. The sense of membership in the nation is still very rudimentary and very frail. The military would appear to be outside the circle of traditionality. Military organization has little to do with the structure of traditional society, from which it is set off by its technology, most of its ethos, its organization, and its training—all of which are either imported or follow foreign models. Its devotion to the national ideal creates an equivocal relationship to the indigenous tradi­ tion which knew little of nationality in general. Further­ more the officer corps is not highly religious in most of the new states. Yet it probably remains a fact that the military have a feeling of sympathy for tradition, not only for their own military tradition but for the traditional style of society as well. Hierarchic dignity, respect for superiors, solicitude for subordinates, solidarity, and conventionality produce in professional soldiers an attachment to the same phenomena in civilian society. Their humble origins and their separation from urbane pleasures and indulgences sustain this sympathy. The result is distrust of those who derogate traditional life and rush to overturn it. Society in the new states is not coterminous with the nation, a fact that disturbs their functioning as societies and as states. The failure to identify with the nation some­ times drives politicians into drastic actions to create that identity. Drastic actions like the suppression of the Tamils in Ceylon, or of the Ashanti in Ghana, strain the fabric of the state and precipitate crises which necessitate or are used to justify suspensions of liberty. Adventurist policies in foreign relations, as in Indonesia, may be another re­ sponse to this internal failure of national unity. The new states—in the more extreme instances—suffer

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from two divergent tendencies, each of which exacerbates the other: the feeble sentiment of nationality in the ordi­ nary person and the very intense nationalism of some sections of the elite. One cause of these two contrary move­ ments, a cause hitherto unmentioned by us, is the scarcity of nation-wide institutions apart from the civil service. In many of the new states, the political parties are regional or communal or tribal parties; what civic associations exist are local and communal. The universities are still largely sectional. There is no national ecclesiastical organization which commands widespread participation and assent. The military, like the civil service, is an exception. It is ubiquitous, it recruits from all parts of the country, and, most important of all, it is national in its symbolism. Insofar as it remains out of party politics, it belongs to no particular section of the country. Moreover, the sense of nationality which membership in the army inculcates is likely, on the whole, to be moderate in intensity. The fact that the army, unlike a political movement, confronts in its daily life tasks other than the embellishment and adora­ tion of the nation's symbols means that its nationalistic sentiment is not usually extreme. The fact that it is or­ ganized and technical checks or moderates the passions which otherwise overflow onto national symbols. These features, which make the military into a nation-building institution, also affect the intensity of national sentiment of the officer class. On the whole, except in the United Arab Republic and in Iraq, the officer class, even where it has become politicized, is not so excitedly nationalistic as certain sectors of the political elite. There the humiliat­ ing defeat of the Arab armies in the Israeli War of Inde­ pendence must be regarded as a major cause of the frenzied nationalism of the leaders of these two countries. They must explain away their defeat by constantly asserting their nation's claim to preeminence.

POLITICAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE NEW STATES

For these reasons, insofar as the new states avoid going to war among themselves, the military is capable of playing a constructive part in the provision of some of the elements of a coherent modern, and even democratic, society. It can serve to integrate diverse ethnic groups into a national community; it can teach skills useful in economic develop­ ment; it can widen horizons beyond village and locality; it can keep young men from being infected by nationalistic demagogy and give them a greater concern for the nation as a whole. Armies, however, are not democracies. Where the pat­ tern of military organization transcends the boundaries of the army and becomes identical with the state, order and prosperity may be maintained. But the training in democratic civility is a less probable outcome. THE OPPOSITIONAL MENTALITY

In the period of their birth and growth, nationalistic politics were oppositional politics. The most powerful nationalist agitation has not aimed primarily at obtaining opportunities for civil responsibility. In India, where civil politics have been best developed, most preindependence political effort was concentrated on discrediting and em­ barrassing the foreign ruler, and not on exercising the very qualified and restricted sovereignty which the later constitutions allowed. Dramatic, symbolic deeds, rather than responsible detailed work on practical legislation, have been most honored. This tradition of "demonstrative" and "remonstrative" politics still persists in the new states. Studying the subject matter of bills, contributing in com­ mittees to their amendment, and scrutinizing their imple­ mentation often have little appeal to legislators and jour­ nalists. If they cannot oppose dramatically, they subside into passivity and indifference. The spirit of opposition is especially strong among uni-

EDWARD SHILS

versity, college, and high-school students. It is also com­ mon among those politicians who participated in the movements for national independence and who now find the work of legislation and administration in an inde­ pendent state too routine and dull by contrast with the exciting experience of fighting against the foreigner. The oppositional outlook is, of course, strong among the intel­ lectuals, and it enters into whatever independently ex­ pressed public opinion exists in these countries. In all new states where opinion is relatively free, there is a tendency, in highly politicized circles outside the ruling elite itself, to be distrustful of politicians. One of the reasons is the persistence of the traditions of the struggle for national independence. The oppositional mentality, impatient with the talkative and roundabout methods of representative government, inclines toward oligarchical solutions to the present and future problems of the new states. It is not, however, very likely to be overcome in any oligarchical regime. It might be driven into silence, but it cannot be dissolved into a unitary national will. It can be cured only by the practice of responsibility and the development of traditions of dis­ ciplined opposition. Meanwhile, in the newly emerging countries, where respect for civil order is less deeply in­ grained, the tradition of conspiratorial politics "on behalf of the nation" is still strong, and where the reservoir of qualified personnel for politics, journalism, administration, etc., is shallow, the oppositional disposition is costly. In the democratic regimes of the new states, the opposi­ tional state of mind is an obvious burden. In the oligarchic regimes, which can give the semblance of transcending it, it remains a source of instability.2 2 There is a closely related phenomenon which plays a great part in the new states. It occurs both in the new democratic states and in all those which have become oligarchies, except those of the totalitarian sort. This

POLITICAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE NEW STATES

In their own way, the military men of the new states share this oppositional mentality. They did not acquire it through participation in the nationalist agitation against foreign rule, nor by the absorption of the antipolitical outlook of the Western European political-literary intelli­ gentsia. They are antiauthoritarian in the same fashion as many highly educated modern intellectuals. Their op­ position to politicians derives from a different source. Their education is technical; and efficiency is one of the standards which they have learned. They tend to be suspicious of flamboyant oratory and of the politics of negotiation, fixing, and compromise. Their belief that they are under obligation to a more austere morality makes them disapprove especially of parliamentary politicians and cabinet ministers who traffic in import permits, foreign exchange licenses, government contracts, and profitable appointments. This type of antipolitical attitude does not make them more sympathetic with the oppositional activi­ ties of lawyers, journalists, and other intellectuals, whom they regard as part of the same repellent system. When they collaborate with them, the alliance is unstable. Personality

Basic to all the factors which are likely to determine development in the political systems of the new states are is the phenomenon of the "urban mob," which consists partly of menials, servants, and workmen away from their families, of refugees and displaced persons, and partly of restive students and discontented university gradu­ ates. These tumultuous crowds at the centers of concentrated population are equivalent to public opinion in some of the new states. The common civil indifference and the general apathy toward public affairs are not governors on the turbulence of such bearers of public opinion. Even oligarchies, to survive, must ride on the crest of the waves of such public opinion—unless they can resort to force on a totalitarian scale. If they do not, the oppositional current penetrates into the bodies required for the maintenance of order, and both democratic regimes and oligarchies cannot resist its disintegrative influence.

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the rudimentary condition of individuality and the conse­ quently feeble sense of individual dignity within the polity. From this comes the insensitivity to the rights of indi­ viduals among both rulers and ruled. It is this which makes for the frailty of public opinion, its reluctance to criticize authority, its unbridled abuse of authority, and the unempirical, unfactual nature of its political criticism. Life in the military has an equivocal relationship to the growth of individuality. Taking a youth away from his kinship group and his local community removes him from an individuality-inhibiting force. Furthermore, giving him a wider horizon and training him in skills which are judged from the standpoint of efficiency enhance his selfesteem and his sense of individual responsibility. Yet mili­ tary organization imposes an oppressive discipline. It re­ places the authority of kinship and traditional belief by the authority of the officer and the organization which stands behind him, thereby maintaining the mechanisms which suppress individuality. Political Structure

The resources of a new state include political as well as prepolitical things. Thus far, we have dealt predominantly with the prepolitical. Political life, however, is not merely an epiphenomenon. The present state of political life has its own consequences for its further persistence or trans­ formation. It is appropriate to touch briefly on certain features of the political life of the new states that are relevant to the prospects of development. UNIVERSAL SUFFRAGE

The granting of universal suffrage without property or literacy qualifications is, perhaps, the greatest single factor leading to the formation of a political society.

POLITICAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE NEW STATES PARLIAMENT AND POLITICIANS

The existence of universal suffrage and, where allowed, the competition of parties create expectations and an op­ portunity for grievances to be satisfied. They also help to create the expectation that the government is the ap­ propriate agency for such satisfaction. Any government in an economy of misery that speaks through some form of universal suffrage is impelled toward a program of drastic action. It is necessarily highly interventionist, if not outrightly socialistic. This creates a heavy budget of work for the parliament and the executive in a democratic regime (and for the executive in an oligarchy). The parliamentarian has a very hard time keeping abreast of what the government and the civil service present to him for his decision. The alter­ natives are either uncritical submission or undisciplined opposition. This is one of the ineluctable facts of democ­ racy in the new states. A new state is fortunate when its first years are spent under the leadership of one of the great personalities who led its struggle for national independence. These charis­ matic personalities are invaluable in binding together such conglomerates as form its society. Nonetheless, they do not ordinarily build the institutions indispensable for con­ ducting the life of a political society. Meanwhile, parliamentary life in the new states is not succeeding in attracting the best talents of the nation. Many of the second-rank politicians are mere placeholders, whose subservience to party leadership arouses the antip­ athy of some of the oppositionally minded younger gen­ eration. The parliamentarians, too, are aware of their em­ barrassing situation and their self-esteem declines. In view of these factors, the high standard of integrity of many leading politicians in certain of the new states is

EDWARD SHILS

impressive. India stands out, and with it the importance of the deeply inculcated British traditions and the long school­ ing provided by great Indian personalities like Gokhale and Gandhi. Other new states have been less fortunate. PARTY SYSTEM

Like India, Burma, Israel, Tunisia, or Ghana, the new state has been ruled, either by an overwhelmingly pre­ ponderant party which won national independence, or by a coalition of clique-like and sectional parties (e.g., Indo­ nesia, Pakistan before the accession of General Ayyub, and Sudan before General Abboud). The former provides stability and helps to give the country unity; the latter is unstable and keeps the country from settling down or be­ coming unified under a democratic regime. Nonetheless, the former has its dangers, since it impedes the emergence of an opposition. The opposition is either discouraged by the odds against it or is overwhelmed by coercion; its leaders either withdraw from politics or gravitate toward extremist parties. CIVIL SERVICE

Certain new states (Sudan, Ghana, and, above all, India) have inherited a superior body of indigenous civil servants from their former rulers. Even so, they have been faced with the pressing task of greatly increasing their recruit­ ment of civil servants. Because they have been recruited rapidly, and have taken on a heavy budget of work, they have not always been able to maintain high standards; and it is generally believed that the efficiency and probity of the civil service have declined in most new states. In turn, this decline has encouraged the people's feeling of alienation from both the government and the politicians. Under these conditions the gap not only persists but widens.

POLITICAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE NEW STATES THE ARMED FORCES

Of the new states, only India and Pakistan inherited large, well-trained armies experienced in warfare and governed by an officer class with a modern military tradi­ tion. Although the Indian Army had to undergo the strain of partition, its two successors survived with their morale unimpaired. Since then they have continued to recruit able young men, whom they have assimilated into their soldierly traditions. The armies of the Arab states of the Middle East are more recent creations with less military experience. The Israeli Army is also a new creation from elements trained in the underground and in the British Army. The Indonesian and Burmese armies are the heirs of guerrilla forces. In the independent states of SubSaharan Africa, the armed forces are slight. African officers are, on the whole, new to their tasks. In both French- and English-speaking territories, the African armies comprise only a few thousand men, some of whom saw action in World War II. Their African officers still amount to only a handful of men. The position of Tunisia and Morocco is similar. Except for the disintegrated Congolese Force Publique, with its experience of mutiny under Belgian rule, the armies of the new states seem to have a fairly high degree of internal solidarity, particularly when they do not become involved in politics. Their recruits learn to value orderli­ ness and precision. Their training often includes technical subjects like those taught in engineering colleges, in mili­ tary academies, or in foreign military institutions. Although no army in any new state is modern like the American or Soviet armies, they are usually trained in the theory and practice of the most recent weapons appropriate to their size and tasks. They have thus absorbed some of the outlook of professional military technicians.

EDWARD SHILS

They are naturally patriotic, and their technical orienta­ tion gives a technocratic coloring to their conception of national progress. If the modern intellectual class has a reasonable proportion of persons with technological edu­ cation and experience, the military will tend to regard it as an ally. If these are too few, as in the Middle East, the younger officers may get the idea that they themselves repre­ sent the spirit of modernity in their society and that they alone are capable of realizing it. If the civilian political elite is self-confident and force­ ful, the military will be less inclined to intrude into the civil sphere, even though the technologically educated sector of the civilian population is small. This has been the case in Tunisia and Morocco. When, conversely, the civilian politicians seem demoralized and bewildered, as in Burma or the Sudan, or corrupt and cynical, as in Paki­ stan or Iraq, the military is more likely to intervene in the political sphere. A third factor is the tradition of the army about absten­ tion from or intrusion into political affairs. In this respect, India is the most fortunate of the new states. Its army has inherited the British traditions of sharp separation be­ tween the military and the civil spheres. Even the efforts of the present Defense Minister, Mr. V. K. Krishna Menon, to politicize the armed forces, have met with no apparent success. (Also India benefits from having the largest tech­ nical intelligentsia and the most able political leadership as well as the best civil service of any new state.) The Pakistani armed forces inherited the same British tradi­ tions; but they confronted a situation of political incom­ petence and irresponsibility and a much more stunted technologically educated intelligentsia. Their tradition did not prevent their entry into the political sphere; nor, in not too different conditions, did the similar traditions of the Sudanese officer corps.

POLITICAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE NEW STATES THE INSTITUTIONS OF PUBLIC OPINION

To what extent do the institutions of public opinion in the new states contribute to the emergence or maintenance of democracy, political or tutelary? Tο .vhat extent do they contribute to the emergence of one form or another of oligarchy? Because of an almost universal paucity of reportorial curiosity and skill, the press does not serve as the eye of the public, on which depends the virtue of the statesman. The poverty of the newspapers, the slightness of the tradi­ tion of newsgathering journalism, a fear of governmental displeasure, the low status of the newspaper correspondent in comparison with those into whose public conduct he would inquire—all tend to hamper the press in the per­ formance of its important function. Hence, an informed public opinion languishes. The other institutions which ordinarily contribute to the formation of public opinion are likewise feeble. Uni­ versities are overworked and understaffed. The best are often swallowed up into governmental service. There are very few independent institutions for research into basic problems. The political tradition of the college teacher as a government employee, and the fact that in certain new states college staffs consist largely of expatriates, also deprive the country of important sources of political judgment. The institutions of public opinion receive little advan­ tage from the military. In India, the military has the con­ ventional outlook of the British Army, and it does not regard the press and the intellectuals as something worthy of notice. In Indonesia, the army regards politics as at least partially its own, and the press is considered a possible inconvenience to be kept under control. In the Sudan, there are recurrent rumors of the governmentalization of

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the press by the military regime; pending that, the press is haltered. In the United Arab Republic, the nationaliza­ tion of the press has progressed markedly. Indeed, in every country in which the military has taken control (with the partial exception of Burma), the institutions of public opinion and, above all, the press have come under severe discipline. The military conception of the right order of society is businesslike. It has no time or place for dis­ cussion, for continuous criticism, for "exposures." What is necessary is a firm hand. If the press is to be tolerated, it must obey. Otherwise it must pay the usual price which military officers demand from recalcitrant subordinates. ALTERNATIVE COURSES OF POLITICAL DEVELOPMENT

The elites of the new states are seeking desperately to create something new. Their model is a regime of civilian rule through representative institutions in the matrix of public liberties. This model is the one with which the new states began their careers and from which they diverge only from a feeling of urgent necessity. Alternatively, they might turn to a traditionalistic order—monarchical, absolutistic, or feudal—resting on a basis of kinship, landownership, and religious opinion; or to a modern theocracy, exercising oligarchic powers on behalf of traditional reli­ gious values. Finally, a dictatorial Communistic regime, inspired by the Soviet model and explicitly legitimating itself by Marxian doctrine, is not the least of the possi­ bilities. The rulers of the new states, although many of them are intellectuals, are usually neither practicing scholars nor systematic theorists. Because the regime which they know best is that of the European state which formerly ruled them, their demands for more self-government have generally tended to run in the same direction. To a con-

POLITICAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE NEW STATES

sidetable extent, they remain prisoners of their former rulers. Their hunger for modernity, the liberal auspices of their independence movement, and their general tend­ ency toward populism incline them toward political democ­ racy. Their socialistic dispositions, their distant admiration for the Soviet Union, their inchoate ideas about the Soviet polity, the authoritarian traditions of their own society, their impatience with sloth and disorder, and their concern for power make them ready to introduce substantial ad­ mixtures of oligarchy. Their own notions are too undifferentiated and the exigencies of life too demanding for them to select a single model and then strive toward it unswervingly. Their standards are elementary, their motives are conflicting, their situation is hard—painfully hard. They want their states to be modern and to be universally recognized as such. They need and want to keep order, they want to remain in power, and they work under immense difficulties given by external nature, history, and their own predilec­ tions. They have many problems: keeping in power, keep­ ing public order, keeping some measure of stability on unstable political foundations, improving education, de­ veloping professional personnel for medicine, teaching, and technology, making themselves heard internationally. It is little wonder that they are sometimes distracted from their ideals, that they concern themselves only with re­ maining in power and attend to their ideals largely through demagogic speeches and half-hearted measures for sup­ pressing the opposition, restricting the freedom of the press, or denouncing the former colonial powers. Below we delineate certain types of regimes which might arise from the interplay of zealously praised ideal and intractable necessity. Some of them correspond fairly closely to ideals. Others represent the necessities which might impose themselves if ideals fail—although these second-

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bests can become ideals too. The intractability of the in­ herited order and the resistance of tradition will enforce adaptations, usually in the forms of concessions to the tradi­ tional order, heightening of oligarchic tendencies, and in­ venting new institutional arrangements. Political Democracy

By political democracy, we mean the regime of civilian rule through representative institutions and public liberties. Without going into the theory and practice of political democracy, let us say at once that no existing state—longestablished or new—really fulfills all the preconditions for the effective working of political democracy, and the new states do so less well. Only India and Israel, and to a lesser extent Nigeria and possibly Malaya and Lebanon—if we overlook the half-hearted civil war of several years ago— come within hailing distance of this model. In some of the states, exceptional performances in other categories com­ pensate for deficiencies in certain of the categories of demo­ cratic policy. In India, for example, the outstanding quali­ ties of the political leadership and of a few journalists, the remarkable endowment of the higher civil service, the deeply ingrained civil sense of the officer corps, and a fairly large reservoir of capable and civil-minded intellectuals keep the regime as close to political democracy as circum­ stances permit. Largely, the personality, cultural traditions, and skill of the Indian elite compensate for the fact that India is not yet really a political society. Practically none of the other states is a political society either. In most of these countries, the polity falls short of becoming congruous, even intermittently, with the society. Very few of the new states—perhaps Tunisia, Nigeria, Tanganyika, and Malaya are exceptions—have adequate leaders. Some are sovereign states only in that no

POLITICAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE NEW STATES

other state exercises sovereignty over their territory; they themselves have not yet succeeded in fully establishing an unchallenged sovereignty within their boundaries. In many of the regimes during the relatively democratic phase, the politicians could not establish any credentials for integrity or effectiveness. In, for example, Iraq, Indonesia, and the Sudan, the elites have lacked internal solidarity, not only among but even within parties and cliques. Opposition has very frequently been recalcitrant and factious, and the government has shown itself correspondingly impatient. None, of course, not even Indonesia, has been so unfor­ tunate as the Congo in the first years of its existence, when it lacked—and still does—the most elementary require­ ments of a political order. In the Congo, a constellation of mutually antagonistic tribes and a parcel of mediocre demagogues have produced a condition as close to the state of nature as a new state can get. Under such conditions, even the most favorable, some adaptation of the system is inevitable. The zealous effort to modernize, the doubts and ambivalences of the elites about political democracy, and the narrow radius of public opinion all push in the same direction—toward a greater concentration of authority than political democracy would countenance. Traditional Oligarchy

If, in the foreseeable future, the new states are unable to develop into fully proportioned democracies, it is at least improbable that they will relapse into traditional oligarchies. Whatever their earlier history, they have had no recent experience of larger-scale, bureaucratic tradi­ tional oligarchies. The traditional oligarchic elements that have survived almost everywhere lead a crippled and dwarfed existence under the toleration of the new rulers. They have not earned the affections of the modern sectors

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of their society. Indeed, few would really care to see an entirely traditional order maintained. Practically no one, not even traditionalists, knows what a traditional society would be on the scale of the present-day social order. Belief in the desirability of a strong, vigorously modernizing state, quite highly centralized and actively interventionist, is much too strong for the traditional state to find many proponents. Traditional oligarchy is not, therefore, an alternative that is likely to gain the ascendancy in any new state em­ barked on a modernizing course, and it does not have much more chance to survive in those states where it is now ascendant. Nonetheless, in almost every type of regime established, some traces of traditional oligarchy will be found, because it is the proper polity of the traditional society which the modernizing elites inherit. In practically every respect, a traditional oligarchy is unsuited for modernization. To venture upon a course of modernization in such a regime, a ruler must be ready to jettison much of what he has inherited. Such a possibility exists, as Ethiopia seems to show. A ruler might indeed be able to carry it out while his legitimacy is unquestioned, but a traditional oligarchy would survive the process only as a vestige and in fragmentary form. Although the traditional regime as such cannot survive or grow, the disposition which underlies it defies the most repressive measures. It will reassert itself in the most modernized bureaucratic structure, in the modernized party system, and in the fundamental political conceptions of the modern intellectual and political elites. These traditional dispositions, complicated by contact with modernity, are capable of manifesting themselves in a traditionalistic, revivalist regime which, while purporting to embody and enforce traditional beliefs and practices, actually destroys the traditional structure of government

POLITICAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE NEW STATES

and replaces it by a rigorously oligarchic constitution. The traditionalistic oligarchy seems resolutely opposed to modernity, and its legitimacy is sought on the grounds that it protects traditional culture from erosion by modernity. Since, however, it would be charismatic in its instigation and oligarchic in organization, it would leave little of the traditional structure of political authority intact. Traditionalism in the twentieth century has almost al­ ways been nationalistic. It has been concerned, not merely with the Tightness of inherited practices and beliefs, but equally with their superiority to practices and beliefs which have arisen more recently or have been acquired from abroad, usually from the West. It has been concerned to show that, whereas modern practices and beliefs enfeeble the collectivity, the revival of the "traditional" ones strengthens it. But to be strong means also to acquire some of the practices of modernity that would strengthen the collectivity relative to other collectivities. Modern tech­ nology, especially military, is thus a necessary part of the program of traditionalistic oligarchy. To modernize technology and administration involves setting into motion processes inimical to traditionalism. It means creating a modern intelligentsia which would not be easily assimilated in any modernizing traditionalistic regime, and whose collaboration would be reluctant, its resistance inevitable. A traditionalistic regime in the pres­ ent would be unstable. Totalitarian Oligarchy Totalitarian oligarchy is oligarchy with democratic airs, an oligarchy with the advantages of a doctrine. The fact that doctrines are created by intellectuals is of considerable importance in the new states, because it enables the party with the doctrine to gain the allegiance of educated people. Because of its ostensible anti-imperialism, it also fits the

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mood of the most vigorous personalities of the new states. Like any other form of oligarchy, it has the funda­ mental feature of being ruled by a small clique which refuses to acknowledge the legitimacy of any aspirations outside itself. Even more than the ordinary civilian or military oligarchy intent on self-modernization, totali­ tarianism refuses to admit the legitimacy of public op­ position. A civilian or military oligarchy can compromise with independent centers of power; but totalitarian oli­ garchy seeks to dominate every sphere of life and to annul every center of previously independent authority. Naturally, the military elite in a totalitarian oligarchy is strictly confined to the sphere of military matters. The political elite is especially careful that no deviant political tendencies find hospitality in military circles. It will take almost equal pains to inculcate, in both officers and other ranks, the doctrinal beliefs by which it legitimates itself. For these reasons, political dissidence is most unlikely to take a positive form in the military elites of totalitarian oligarchies. There might be strained feelings at times, and occasionally the professional esprit de corps of the military might be wounded by the politicians' brusqueness; but not much independent political action can be expected except under the most extraordinary circumstances. The chances of a totalitarian oligarchy being established in a new state are good. The model is attractive: it offers the prospect of rapid progress; it provides opportunities for intellectuals to contribute to that progress; it promises to sweep away both the "corrupt" politicians and business­ men and the traditional order that supports them; and it flatters the prejudices of many intellectuals. Its chances are furthered by the deliberate action of totalitarian states to infiltrate in various ways into the political elites of the new states, through economic and technical aid, military training, scholarships, and large-scale propaganda. Mili-

POLITICAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE NEW STATES

tary intervention in times of internal crisis is another factor which might enhance the probability of establishing totalitarian oligarchies. Modernizing Oligarchies

Elements of modernizing oligarchies, under the rule of civilian politicians—and by no means completely or in all respects illiberal—now exist in Ghana, Morocco, Tunisia, in most of the new states of French-speaking Africa, and, to the extent that President Sukarno's ability and resources permit it, in Indonesia. Civilian oligarchy is one of the likely prospects confronting the new states. Alarm over the gap between polity and society, distrust of parliamen­ tary politics, and apprehension that the "reactionary mass" of the traditional society will slow down the move­ ment toward modernity, are major motives for espousing forms of government that concentrate authority and seem to establish consensus more fully than political democracy. Both in practice and in principle, oligarchy frequently recommends itself to those whose concern is with progress. In all the new states, there is, in fact and in theory, a wide­ spread belief in the need for a higher concentration of authority and for a stronger medicine to cure corruption, parochialism, disunity, and apathy. In Sudan, Iraq, Egypt, Libya, Jordan, Ghana, Pakistan, Morocco, and Tunisia, and among elements in Indonesia, Ceylon and Frenchspeaking Africa, oligarchy appears to many well-inten­ tioned national leaders to be the only way to create a modern society with a rational, honest administration and a decisive drive for social progress. Even in the states moderately devoted to parliamentary democracy, something stronger than democracy is thought to be desirable. The instability of representative institu­ tions, the haste toward modernity, and the fear of the gap seem to some politicians, military men, and intellectuals

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in the new states to be an argument for oligarchy. Tο many standing outside it, an oligarchy appears to be progressive, efficient, swift, stable, virtuous, and consensual. The aspiration toward modernity, since in the new states it entails such a preponderance of public authority, would act as an impetus toward oligarchy—even if the gap were not so great and if the counterweight of tradi­ tional beliefs and practices were not so heavy. Also, in­ experience with representative institutions and impatience with opposition conduce to oligarchy. Oligarchy is the natural theory of the radical nationalist progressivists who distrust the bourgeois democracy of the once-imperialist Western states. Most of the oligarchic tendencies in the new states— leaving apart the Communist-inspired totalitarian oli­ garchy—have no well-elaborated theory. There is little or no theoretical exposition of the pattern of oligarchy, civilian or military, except the general belief that it should be stable, nontotalitarian, strong, honest, and businesslike. We shall present at this point, therefore, an elucidation of certain features of these regimes which purport to be strong, stable, honest, and efficient, rather than a summary of their explicit principles and aspirations. Oligarchic regimes are capable of persistence. They have a toughness that makes them resistant to efforts to replace them by other types of regimes. The question is whether modernizing oligarchic elites can succeed in modernizing their societies, in ruling with stability and effectiveness, and in mobilizing the enthusiastic support of a politically impotent populace. The answer must be equivocal. In some respects, the oligarchic elites can modernize their societies. They can improve transportation and communications; they can reform land tenure and introduce irrigation schemes and other civil engineering improvements. It is more problem-

POLITICAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE NEW STATES

atic whether they can modernize the rest of the economy, particularly industrial production. Civilian oligarchs (other than Communists), despite their modernizing prot­ estations, are often tied to traditional and conservative interests. Hence they are not likely to make radical ad­ vances to modernize their economies, or to encourage vigorous and unconventional private business enterprisers to do so. The modernization of the machinery of government and the establishment of public order definitely seem to lie within the capacities of a modernizing oligarchy. It can reduce corruption in government, at least in the early period of its ascendancy; and, by its greater decisiveness, it can crush public disorders. But in the course of time, modernizing oligarchies must bow before their inheritance from previous regimes and the tensions which their own methods engender. No oligarchy has yet succeeded in mobilizing the entire population behind its projects. It may overcome organized centers of resistance; but the enlistment of enthusiastic approval seems to be beyond the power of modernizing oligarchies—as it probably is of every type of regime. Tradi­ tional attachments are tremendously resilient; and, al­ though the external power of traditional authorities can be broken by oligarchies, evoking zealous support from everyone for the modernizing oligarchic elite is not a neces­ sary concomitant. The factors which impede the formation of a civil order also impede the emergence of the unitary collective will sought by oligarchies. Particularism and traditionality, which prevent the closure of the gap by civility, also pre­ vent its closure by propaganda or coercion. Nonetheless, a modernizing oligarchic regime is impelled to aggressive action against traditional beliefs and practices. Dispersed authority, modern and especially traditional, is intolerable

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to a modernizing oligarchy. It is a challenge which can be met only by the most savage and efficient repression or by the long, slow process of institutional transformation. Modernizing Military Oligarchies

Except for the Indian and Pakistani armies, none of the armies of the new states has seen much military action in a major war. Aside from the armies of Israel, India, and Pakistan, none has any significant military achieve­ ment to its credit. Some of their officers were in action as subalterns or as sergeants in the British or French Armies during World War II; some officers have had guerrilla experience. On the whole, however, the importance of the armed forces of the new states derives not from their accomplishments in the conventional arena of military action, but from their roles in the domestic life of their own countries. In ten new states, the military have taken a crucial position in politics: Indonesia, Burma, Laos, Pakistan, Iraq, United Arab Republic, Sudan, Jordan, Lebanon and the Republic of Korea. (The Congo is a state only insofar as it is recognized as such by the United Nations.) Turkey is not a new state, but the recurrent and prototypical im­ portance of the military in public life in that country since the last quarter of the nineteenth century is relevant here. Seven of the ten countries are largely Muslim; of these, only Pakistan and Indonesia are not in the Middle East. Is there some feature of Islam or of Ottoman rule which has disposed their armies, more than any others, to enter the political sphere? The Ottoman Empire, unlike the British Empire, did singularly little to educate its subjects. The British Raj left nearly a score of modern universities in India; the Colonial Empire, beyond the boundaries of India, has left or is leaving many universities and university colleges in

POLITICAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE NEW STATES

Africa and Southeast Asia; but the Ottoman Empire left nothing behind because it had created nothing. In Turkey there was no modern education, and the first stirrings of modern political interest occurred among teachers and students of technical subjects in military academies, which were in fact the only indigenous modern educational insti­ tutions of that great Empire. The Dutch in the Nether­ lands East Indies were probably far more humane adminis­ trators, but they did not feel themselves responsible for creating a modern intellectual and technological elite. At the moment of independence, Indonesia was thus even more poorly provided with a modern intellectual class and the institutions for their training than were the former Turkish territories. Pakistan was a part of British India, and its people, therefore, in a sense had access to the same institutions of higher education as the Hindu population. In fact, how­ ever, they did not avail themselves of the opportunity. Despite the great reformer, Sir Sayeed Ahmad Khan, and the British exertions to bring the Muslims forward, they pursued modern higher education only reluctantly. As a result, India inherited a disproportionately large part of the educated class of British India. Pakistan, on the other hand, was thrust into a situation like that of the Middle Eastern countries and Indonesia. Like other Muslim coun­ tries, it had no modern intellectual class and—in this re­ spect it was like Hindu and Buddhist countries—there was no national ecclesiastical organization. In short, there was no nationally acknowledged elite except a small handful of politicians who were unable to establish a hegemony over the political life of their country. The new states of Sub-Saharan Africa are in rather a different situation. Some appear to have a political elite of marked force of character and intelligence, with a moderate amount of experience of party and parliamentary institu-

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tions, and reasonable practical capacities. They might in some cases incline to oligarchy, or circumstances might press them in this direction. They are not threatened, however, by military usurpation because they have scarcely any military forces. They certainly have no indigenous military elite, such as the Middle Eastern states possess, or a military elite which has grown out of guerrilla warfare, such as exists in Indonesia and Burma. Those military oligarchies which have emerged have, on the whole, not been doctrinaire. Only President Nasser has attempted to construct a doctrine; and characteris­ tically, he is the greatest demagogue and most frenetic nationalist among the political officers. In Pakistan, the Sudan, Indonesia, Burma, Lebanon (and Turkey), the military seem neither ideological nor expansive. Their aspirations, too, are rather moderate. They wish to create a political society on a rudimentary scale and to establish adequate machinery of government. Except in Iraq and the United Arab Republic, they have not created an autonomous political organization. Indeed, they have gen­ erally sought to conduct a polity without politics and without politicians—to run the country as if it were a large army camp. Parliamentary and consultative institu­ tions are suspended, the civil service is put under rigorous discipline, critics are suppressed or put on notice. Legisla­ tion is enacted through decrees, and the rule of law is dissolved. It is a regime of martial law, without the draconic punishments which usually attend that regime. Their program is order and progress, but usually with more stress on order than on progress. In both Pakistan and the United Arab Republic, efforts have been made to improve the educational system, to improve agriculture, to provide better housing; but none of these seems to be undertaken with the same urgency as the maintenance of an apolitical order. In Burma, the military regime was

POLITICAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE NEW STATES

concerned only with the restoration of order as a precon­ dition for the reinstatement of political democracy. In Pakistan, too, the military has claimed to look forward to its own replacement by some sort of representative— but partyless—political regime. In Iraq, Colonel Kassem has toyed with the restoration of political parties. Military oligarchies, if they are to be successful, must be able to achieve certain conditions: STABILITY, COHERENCE, AND EFFECTIVENESS OF THE ELITE

Only in Pakistan and in Burma have the initial military oligarchies been able to avert an attempted displacement by other domestic groups, largely military groups. Iraq, Sudan, Egypt, and the Republic of Korea have all experi­ enced countercoups by military men, mainly officers younger than those who made the first coup d'etat. In Egypt they were successful; and the present elite of the United Arab Republic is a second generation of officers. No noticeable resistance or countermeasures, however, have come from the civilian politicians whom they dis­ placed, nor have they encountered any organized popular discontent. Like all elites, that of a military oligarchy must demon­ strate its effectiveness if it is to retain its position. The easiest ways to manifest its effectiveness are by vigor in suppressing attempted putsches, cleaning up streets, re­ moving beggars from the center of the main towns, prose­ cuting the beneficiaries of the preceding regime, and preventing the spread of rumors of corruption about its own regime. It can do these things quite successfully. Military elites suffer from the disadvantage that, once they have succeeded in these undertakings, there is not much more that they can do to support their own selfconfidence and to impress themselves on the public mind.

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Since they have very little of a program except what they take over from the planning boards and civil servants of the old regime, for whom they have no respect, they are left directionless. Except for the Egyptian and perhaps the Iraqi elite, they have no ambitions of conquest; so there is a danger that they will come to feel suspended in a void of clean government and clean streets. They are not businessmen, and they are not civil servants with an ideology of economic growth. If they encourage either or both, they weaken their own hold by encouraging independent centers of power and decision. If they do not encourage or tolerate independent activity, they will see the country standing still. This might be all right for the first period of rule, when the bearers of public opinion are tired of high-sounding phrases and corrupt inaction. After a time, however, the deeply rooted demand of the educated for a dynamic modernity will reassert itself, and the military elite will be put on the defensive. THE PRACTICE AND ACCEPTANCE OF OPPOSITION

Like military hierarchy, military oligarchies allow no place for opposition. The abolition of parliaments, parties, and the independence of the press—a feature of military rule everywhere in the new states (except Burma)—shows that the military elite has no conception of a proper role of constitutional opposition. The local elections organized in the United Arab Republic and Pakistan, and reinstate­ ment of parties in Iraq, disclose no provision for the con­ stitutional operation of an opposition. Yet opposition cannot be avoided. Inaction as well as action will necessarily call forth some opposition, and even though it is prevented from acquiring a corporate or in­ stitutional form of expression, it cannot be so prevented indefinitely. The regime will thus be forced to amalgamate

POLITICAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE NEW STATES

with less consensual elements, or it will have to take re­ course in more drastic measures of oppression. THE MACHINERY OF AUTHORITY

The military elite can run a country only with the col­ laboration of the civil service. Even though it denounces, purges, and transforms it, the elite will inevitably be forced into a coalition with the civil service. The armed forces themselves cannot replace the civil service; they can only supervise it, check it, interfere with it, and, at best, pene­ trate and dominate it. To do more would be to cease being an army, and no oligarchic military elite in any new state has yet undertaken to do that. So much for its positive aspect. On the negative side, an oligarchic military elite can perform important police functions. It can replace the political police with its own intelligence service; it can conduct exemplary trials and execute exemplary punish­ ments. It can take the higher levels of adjudication under its control, selecting and bullying the judiciary until it becomes a pliant instrument of domination rather than an instrument for the application of law and the award of justice. THE INSTITUTIONS OF PUBLIC OPINION

In the extant military oligarchies, the ordinary organs of public opinion are forced into a state of attrition. News­ papers are censored or closed down, their ownership and journalists harried or supplanted, their economic organi­ zation dominated. Wireless communication, if not already a government monopoly in substance, now becomes an organ of propaganda. Since, however, the professional mili­ tary man is not ordinarily an ideologist, the universities— such as they are in the countries which have come under military oligarchies—are left more or less alone. Freedom

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of research and teaching are relatively unimpaired, com­ pared with the press. In Pakistan, at least, the government of General Ayyub has even created two important com­ missions, one in education and the other in science. These have carried out their work on a high level and have made many valuable recommendations which, if implemented, will testify to the readiness of senior soldiers to respect intellectual freedom and performance. In the Sudan the university has in fact been left alone, although a new university law gives the President the power to select the head of the university. THE CIVIL ORDER

Believing in obedience, the military oligarchy demands consensus. In the main, however, the machinery which it establishes for its creation falls considerably short of totali­ tarian procedures and aspirations. Since it has no ideology, it makes no effort to inculcate an ideology into the mass of the population. In many respects, it resembles traditional oligarchy, allowing people to go their own way as long as they do not disturb public order or threaten to subvert the oligarchy. Only those who are already politicized feel the pressure of the oligarch's desire for consensus. To summarize: the military oligarchy is not a complete regime. It has neither a comprehensive program nor a perspective into the future. Like all nonhereditary oli­ garchies, it has no provision for succession. It is what some of the military oligarchs themselves call a "caretaker re­ gime." But its ideas about what it takes care of are rather scant and, even where well-intentioned, unimaginative. Except for the Burmese military oligarchy, which took power for the specific objective of rectifying administrative morale and preparing new elections, military oligarchies have no definite conception of the kind of regime to which

POLITICAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE NEW STATES

they wish to transfer power or toward which they wish to move. Tutelary Democracy

There are many men of good will in the new nations who recognize the difficulties of a system of political democ­ racy in states that have not yet become political societies. They wish to retain as much of the institutions of civilian rule, representative government, and public liberties as they can. But they also wish to introduce, both in principle and in practice, or in practice alone, modifications for maintaining an effective and stable government, for mod­ ernizing the economy and the society, and for reinforcing and rehabilitating the feeble propensities of their people for political democracy. Some, who would go further, advocate having a stronger executive than political democ­ racy affords and reducing the power of the legislature and the political parties, while attempting to retain the rule of law and public liberties. (Such a regime would be some­ thing like that of Bismarckian and Wilhelmian Germany.) Others would maintain representative institutions but confine their powers, and those of the institutions of public opinion, within narrower bounds. They would retain all the institutional apparatus of political democracy but, recognizing the insufficiency of the cultural and social pre­ requisites, would attempt to keep the system going more or less democratically through very strong executive initia­ tive and a continuous pressure from the top. Tutelary democracy is a variant of political democracy that recommends itself to the elites of the new states be­ cause it is more authoritative than political democracy and also because the institution of public opinion and the civil order do not seem qualified to carry the burden which political democracy would impose on them. It is not a theoretical construct like political democracy and totali-

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tarian oligarchy. It is, rather, the "natural theory" o£ men brought up to believe in themselves as democrats. We might question the feasibility of tutelary democracy as an alternative. Is it attractive enough to gain the suffrage of a democratic elite experiencing difficulties in attempt­ ing to operate a regime of political democracy, and suffi­ ciently stable to survive internal and external pressures toward oligarchy? Like so many other problems of the new states, the answer depends on the moral and mental quali­ ties of the political, military, and intellectual elites. If, as in India, they are sufficiently devoted to the principle of a democratic polity, they will carry out their tutelary func­ tions through the whole panoply of representative and liberal institutions. At present, of the regimes in the new states which have given up the representative institutions and public liberties with which they began their careers, only Burma and Lebanon have reinstated a more or less democratic regime. Indonesia, Ceylon, Iraq, the United Arab Republic, Pakistan, and Sudan have not retraced their steps; Ghana has moved steadily toward oligarchy with parliamentary adornments. Our experience thus far supports the view that deliberate restrictions, once they are imposed on the working of the institutions of political democracy, are not easily rescinded. CONCLUDING OBSERVATIONS

No new state can modernize itself, and remain or be­ come liberal and democratic, without an elite possessing force of character, intelligence, and a very complex set of high moral qualities. The path toward modernization is uncertain; the arrival, uncertain. Nor is it possible to retrace one's steps. Coun­ tries may never succeed in becoming modern, but they can never return to a traditional society or polity. A state which, however minimally, advances toward modernity,

POLITICAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE NEW STATES

through organizing a modern army and through establish­ ing modern intermediate and higher educational institu­ tions, has irreversibly turned its back on the traditional oligarchic alternative. Technically trained and profession­ ally formed young officers will be impatient with the slovenliness of the regime of traditional oligarchy, with its combination of indolent oligarchy, mass apathy, and poverty. The students and graduates of modern higher educational institutions, however poor their intellectual quality, are provided with ideas of modernity whose force stems from impulses of adolescent rebellion against a re­ pressive traditional and oligarchic society. If, as is often the case, the economy is too poor to find appropriate posts for them, they dominate "public opinion" and become the agents of an incessant turbulence which no mixture of traditionality and oligarchy can withstand. It is easier not to go back than to go forward. Going forward requires the closing of the gap. There can be no truly modern society until there is a greater measure of active unity between the mass of the society and its leaders than exists today in any of the new states. At present, the new states are extremely heterogeneous ethnically and cul­ turally. Particularistic religious traditions are powerful among them, and kinship and stratification make for narrow loyalties. Nationalism, on the other hand, tends to be enthusiastic and dynamic rather than civil, leading politicians into demagogy and away from the people. Nearly all the new states confront a vastly preponderant peasant majority which, if it is not apathetic and with­ drawn into its own parochial life," is quietly indifferent or actively resistant to efforts to make it conform to the model the politicians hold before it. The closure of this gap between the modernizing elite and the mass of the population is the prerequisite of the creation of a political society, of a society which is modern

EDWARD SHILS

not only in its economy and administration but in its moral order as well. Oligarchic regimes can tolerate the gap more easily than political democracies because they demand little but accla­ mation from the masses, and much of that can be fabricated on demand. The greater readiness of the oligarchic regimes to use coercion also contributes to this ostensible closure of the gap. The actual closure, however, is probable only in a regime of civilian rule, representative institutions, and public liberties. The movement toward its closure can probably occur only in some variant of tutelary democracy, with the external appearance of political democracy, or of a modernizing oligarchy, or of some new form, as yet un­ known. The regime of civilian rule, public liberties, and representative government is built around a wide diffusion of initiative and independence of action and judgment. The traditional order entails the concentration or utter absence of these qualities; and in this it is at one with oli­ garchy. This seems to indicate that the survival or emer­ gence of political democracy is less probable than that of oligarchy. Oligarchy is more compatible with the tradi­ tional order because it suffers less than democracy from the reality of the gap. Political democracy is, in many re­ spects, discontinuous with the substantive content of the traditions, i.e., with what these traditions transmit. The much larger amount of voluntary assent and widely dis­ persed initiative which the regime of representative govern­ ment and public liberties requires will not be so easily forthcoming in the new states. The political virtues required for oligarchy are fewer and less demanding on the moral and intellectual powers of a considerable part of the population—including both rulers and ruled. Oligarchy depends, far more than democ­ racy, on the ability of the elite to use organized coercion where necessary; it can tolerate, and even benefit from,

POLITICAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE NEW STATES

apathy in other spheres and at other times. However, a modernizing oligarchy that is nationalistic in outlook re­ quires, for its self-legitimation, a unitary public will which can be activated at the command of the elite. It is doubtful whether this can really be produced by the means available to any known oligarchy. Totalitarianism depends on organized force at the center and demands enthusiastic conformity in untraditional practices in a large part of the society. There is no reason to believe that a totalitarian oligarchy can create this social unity better than any other type of regime can. It can un­ doubtedly create the appearance of unity better than a more democratic regime can, but it cannot do any better in the creation of the reality. The present low level of the development of individ­ uality in the new states is more congenial to oligarchic than to democratic regimes. Oligarchic regimes which try to create a unified national might gain the further benefit of the rather uncommon conversion phenomenon of the leap from the preindividual condition of primordiality to the transindividual condition of extreme nationalism. On the other hand, oligarchic regimes which affront the sense of integrity of kinship and local territorial groups by attempting to coerce them simultaneously generate a withdrawal from national symbols, and thus enlarge and stabilize the gap. Democratic regimes are more likely to arouse individ­ uality and gain more from it than any of the oligarchic alternatives. In the long run, only a regime of representa­ tive institutions and public liberties can cure the opposi­ tional mentality while avoiding withdrawal into apathy. The oppositional mentality, however, is more inimical to the regimes of political and of tutelary democracy than it is to oligarchic regimes. The latter can repress the bearers of the oppositional mentality, whereas democratic regimes

EDWARD SHILS

cannot do so with the same constitutional ease. The burden of the transformation rests upon the elite. Its chances for success rest on its capacity for self-restraint and its effective­ ness in legitimating itself through modernizing achieve­ ment, through a due respect for the claims of traditional beliefs, and through its recruitment of intellectuals who can reinterpret traditional beliefs, adapt them to modern needs, and translate them into a modern idiom. Are such elites now in existence? Almost every new state except India, Ghana, Nigeria, the Sudan, and perhaps Tunisia is defective in the quality of its civil servants. All except India, and possibly Nigeria, Sierra Leone, and Tanganyika are very short of politicians devoted to parliamentary institutions and skilled in work­ ing with them. Of those with substantial indigenous armies, only India has succeeded in inculcating the army with civil loyalty or in maintaining the tradition formed during foreign rule. India has a large, relatively well-educated middle class and a very competent higher civil service. The civil arm of its government has established an unquestioned ascend­ ancy over the military arm. Its small—perhaps too small— corps of politicians are devoted to parliamentary proce­ dures. Not least important, a rudimentary political society exists. With these qualifications, India has a better chance than any other new state of stabilizing its present regime of civilian rule, representative institutions, and public liber­ ties. It, too, will undoubtedly make some compromise with tutelary democracy. But even the country with the best chance will prob­ ably not succeed in attaining the level set by the model it holds before its eyes. No state ever does. In the new states of Asia and Africa, the chances of realizing any of the models—which took form in other cultures and under

POLITICAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE NEW STATES

different economic and social conditions—seem to be even less. The likelihood of any oligarchic alternatives fulfilling themselves in the new states is not unqualifiedly good. At the extreme, they demand things most unlikely to be realized, namely, a high degree of mobilization of wills around a single set of symbols, great exertion, and great efficiency. Even if these countries were to be satisfied with the restricted and more realistic program of totalitarian oligarchy—and hence settle for coerced order, the security of their power, and rapid economic development—they would probably be disappointed. The efficiency on which a totalitarian oligarchy prides itself is likely to encounter great obstacles at every level of society, and ruthlessness will be no substitute for it. Ruthlessness might create an impression of discipline, but it does not beget efficient action on behalf of the goals set by the regime. In a sense, the regime of political and tutelary democracy, which seems to demand so much from men, actually offers a more realistic settlement with the slowly tractable reali­ ties of the traditional societies of the new states. If democ­ racy can be understood in a partial sense, in which repre­ sentative institutions function limpingly—even more Iimpingly than in the West—and public liberties are main­ tained, it is entirely possible that, among the alternative models, some form of democracy has, in the long run, the best chance of surviving. But even then, in the coming decades it will have to make significant concessions to the gap. It will survive only if the elite has a very powerful will to be democratic—only if it is willing to be the teacher and parent of democracy in a society which by its nature does not incline in that direction—and if, furthermore, it gets enough of the right kind of assistance from abroad. The alternatives are oligarchies. The military variety, which promises to maintain order and—as an afterthought

EDWARD SHILS

—to modernize, does so only by sweeping the disorder temporarily into a box from which it recurrently springs in full strength. The civilian oligarchy, which strives for larger programs, achieves a little in spurts, and between spurts sprawls in disorder and oppressiveness. The totali­ tarian oligarchy, by the ruthlessness of its elite and by the vigor of its party machine, as well as by the organizational and material aid which it would get from the Soviet Union, would appear to have the best chance of maintaining itself once it has got into power. But it, too, would have to com­ promise markedly with the human materials which tradi­ tional society gives it. It could build industrial monuments and suppress open dissatisfaction, but it could not realize its ideal. None of the alternatives, as they have been presented here or as their proponents in the new states think of them, has much chance of being fully realized. There is a large realm of disorder between traditionality and modernity, and in this area, in the midst of sloth and squalor, occa­ sional outbursts of progressive action occur. In the com­ promises which reality will impose on the struggle between tradition and modernity, this third or middle possibility will undoubtedly intrude prominently. In trying to understand the prospects of the new states, we should not neglect the postindependence experiences of the Latin-American states. However, the new states of Africa and Asia exist in a period of more rapid communi­ cations. They also exist at a time when the images of the Western democracies and of the Soviet Union are more forcibly and vividly impressed on the minds of their intel­ lectuals than were the liberal constitutional models of Europe on the minds of those who created the new states of Latin America. There is no straight and easy road to the city of moder­ nity. Whatever the main road chosen, there will be many

POLITICAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE NEW STATES

tempting and ruinous side roads; there will be many marshes and wastes on either side, and many wrecked aspirations will lie there, rusting and gathering dust. Those who arrive at the city will discover it to be quite different from the destination which they and their ancestors origi­ nally sought. Yet, some roads are better than others; some destinations are better than others. Even if none is perfect and none corresponds to the voyagers' hope on starting, some of the destinations will turn out to have been worth the travail, worth the effort of the voyagers and of their friends who helped them on their way.

ARMIES IN THE PROCESS OF POLITICAL MODERNIZATION BY LUCIAN W. PYE

O

NLY a few years ago it was generally assumed that the future of the newly emergent states would be determined largely by the activities of their Westernized intellectuals, their socialistically inclined bu­ reaucrats, their nationalist ruling parties, and possibly their menacing Communist parties. It occurred to few students of the underdeveloped regions that the military might become the critical group in shaping the course of nationbuilding. Now that the military has become the key de­ cision-making element in at least eight of the Afro-Asian countries, we are confronted with the awkward fact that there has been almost no scholarly research on the role of the military in the political development of the new states. LACK OF KNOWLEDGE OR DOCTRINE

The trend of recent years toward increased authoritarian rule and army-dominated governments raises questions which seem only to emphasize the limitations of our knowl­ edge. Is it true, as we have always supposed, that any en­ croachment of the military into civilian rule is a blow to liberal government and civil liberties? Or is it possible that military rule can, in fact, establish the necessary basis for the growth of effective representative institutions? Have events reached such a state in parts of Asia that we should welcome army rule as the least odious of possible develop­ ments and probably the only effective counterforce to communism?1 We seem to be confronted by two conflicting images of the politician in uniform. The first, derived ι Guy J. Pauker, "Southeast Asia as a Problem; Area in the Next Decade," World Politics, Vol. xi, No. 3, April 1959, pp. 325-345.

LUCIAN W. PYE

largely from Latin America and the Balkans, is that of administrative incompetence, inaction, and authoritarian, if not reactionary, values. The second and more recent is that of a dynamic and self-sacrificing military leadership committed to progress and the task of modernizing transi­ tional societies that have been subverted by the "corrupt practices" of politicians. How is it possible to tell in any particular case whether army rule will lead to sterile authoritarianism or to vigorous development? To answer such questions is to explore two relatively unknown and overlapping areas; Western scholarship has been peculiarly inattentive to the sociology of armies, on the one hand, and to the processes of political development and nation-building, on the other. Only in recent years, as Professor William T. R. Fox observed, has the Western scholar's bias against the military been weakened to the point where he is prepared to go beyond the field of civilmilitary relations and recognize the entire range of national security problems as a respectable province of scholarship.2 Given the hesitation with which we have approached the study of the primary functions of armies it is not surprising that so little systematic thought has been given to the political sociology of armies and the roles that military institutions play in facilitating the processes of industrial and political development. It is hardly necessary to docu­ ment the fact that we have limited knowledge about the nature of political development in transitional societies and the processes that produce the emerging political in­ stitutions. Without greater knowledge of these develop­ ments we lack perspective for viewing the rise of authori­ tarian practices and the emergence of military rule in transitional societies. Our lack of knowledge about such important matters 2 Conference on Political Modernization, Social Science Research Council, Committee on Comparative Politics, Dobbs Ferry, June 8-12, 1959.

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is probably less significant than the fact that we also lack an appropriate doctrine that, in lieu of tested knowledge, might serve to guide our policy. To put the matter bluntly, for all our commitment to democratic values, we do not know what is required for a society to move from a tradi­ tional and authoritarian basis to the establishment of demo­ cratic institutions and representative institutions. When this problem has arisen in the past with respect to colonialism, our typical response has been anti-intellectual and antirational: colonial powers should relinquish their authority, and then an automatic and spontaneous emergence of democratic practices and institutions could be expected. Unfortunately, with the passing of colonialism we find we have little advice to give to the leaders of the newly emergent countries who are struggling to realize democratic ways. We have no doctrine to offer them, no strategies for action nor criteria of priorities, no sense of appropriate programs nor sets of hypotheses for explaining the paths to representative government. At best we have been able to piece together some concepts and considera­ tions taken from embryonic theories of economic growth and have suggested that they might serve as guiding principles. In contrast to our own bemusement, those interested in establishing other types of social and political systems— and most particularly, of course, the Communists—have a clearer sense of design and of priorities to guide their efforts. More often than not we have found that instead of developmental concepts and strategic plans we can offer only statements about the nature of democratic values and our vision of end-goals of political development. By stress­ ing ends rather than the means we have inadvertently tended to highlight the extent to which the newly emergent states have failed to realize in practice their aspirations. In so doing we have contributed to the growing feeling of

LUCIAN W. PYE

insecurity common to most of the leaders of such countries. These are generally men who, despite their bold exteriors, are inwardly plagued with self-doubts and uncertainties about their ability to run a country. Without clear notions as to the stages that must be passed through if their transi­ tional societies are to realize free institutions, these leaders are in danger of thinking that the gap between current performance and democratic ideals means that their peoples are doomed to failure. Our lack of doctrine for building a tolerably free society is most conspicuous with respect to the proper role of authority in government. How should the machinery of state, usually inherited from an essentially authoritarian colonial regime, be employed to ensure political develop­ ment? Can these essentially coercive instruments of the state, which in a democratic order are the servants of the popular will, be utilized to guide a tradition-bound people to democratic values and habits of thought? Or is the result of any such efforts, no matter how well intended, likely to be a drift toward what is essentially an authoritarian order decorated with democratic trimmings? It would seem that these questions might serve as an appropriate begin­ ning for a search for both a doctrine of political tutelage and a better understanding of the role of the military in the process of political modernization. An underlying assumption behind much of Western political thought is that political institutions are above all else the products of the dynamic forces peculiar to a par­ ticular society and thus reflect the distinctive values and the styles of action common to that society. It is acknowl­ edged, of course, that once institutions are established they tend to become dynamic and hence influence the values and the expectations of the population. There is thus an assumption of a circularity of relationships or a state of equilibrium. The fundamental view, however, is still that

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the dynamics of the system lie within the society as a whole and that it is the institutions which must be responsive. Governmental institutions can display initiative, but funda­ mental change originates within the society. When we turn to the newly emergent countries this model no longer seems appropriate. For in these societies the historical pattern has been the introduction of institu­ tions from outside, with a minimum concession to the values and behavior of the people. These fundamentally authoritative structures have thus tended to be shaped according to foreign standards. Rather than responding to indigenous values they have often proved to be the domi­ nant factor in stimulating further changes throughout the society. These considerations suggest that it might be useful to organize our analysis of the political role of the army, first, with respect to the political implications of the army as a modern institution that has been somewhat artificially introduced into disorganized transitional societies; and second, with respect to the role that such an army can play in shaping attitudes toward modernity in other spheres of society. By such an approach we may hope to locate some of the critical factors for explaining why it is that the military has been a vigorous champion of progress and development in some countries and a retarding influence in others. We may also hope to gain a basis for judging the probable effectiveness of armies in promoting national development and eventually democratic practices. THE ARMY AS A MODERN ORGANIZATION

In large measure the story of the underdeveloped coun­ tries is one of countless efforts to create organizations by which resources can be effectively mobilized for achieving new objectives. This is the problem of establishing organi-

LUCIAN W. PYE

zations that, as rationalized structures, are capable of relat­ ing means to ends. The history of much of the Western impact on traditional societies fits comfortably within this theme, for the businessman, planter, and miner, the colo­ nial administrator, the missionary, and the educator each in his own way strives to fit modern organizations into tradition-bound societies. Similarly, the story of the na­ tionalists and of the other Westernized leaders can be treated on essentially identical terms, for they too try to change the habits of their people by creating modern organizations. Needless to say, there are not many bright spots in this history, and it is open to question as to who has been the more tragically heroic or comically futile: the Westerners struggling to establish their organizations in traditional societies, or the nationalist politician and the indigenous administrator endeavoring to create a semblance of order out of chaos. On balance, the attempts to establish mili­ tary organizations seem to have been noticeably the most successful. It would be wrong to underestimate the patient care that has gone into developing and training colonial armies, and in the newly independent countries the military have been treated relatively generously in the allocation of scarce resources. But in comparison to the efforts that have been expended in developing, say, civil administration and political parties, it still seems that modern armies are somewhat easier to create in transitional societies than are most other forms of modern social structures. The signifi­ cant fact for our consideration is that the armies created by colonial administration and by the newly emergent countries have been consistently among the most modern­ ized institutions in their societies. Viewed historically, some of these armies have been distinguished: the Indian Army, the Malay Regiments, the Philippine Scouts, the

THE PROCESS OF POLITICAL MODERNIZATION

Arab Legion, the Gurkha Regiments, and the King's Own African Rifles, to mention only the more celebrated ones. It would take us too far afield to explore the relative advantages military leaders have in seeking to establish armies in transitional societies. We need only note that there is a paradoxical relationship between ritualized and rationalized modes of behavior that may account for the ease with which people still close to a traditional order adapt themselves to military life. Viewed from one per­ spective, a military establishment comes as close as any human organization can to the ideal type for an industrial­ ized and secularized enterprise. Yet from another point of view, the great stress placed on professionalism and the extremely explicit standards for individual behavior make the military appear to be a more sacred than secular insti­ tution. If discipline is needed to minimize random and unpredictable behavior, it is also consonant with all the demands that custom and ritual make in the most traditionbound organization. For these reasons, and for others related to the hierarchic nature of the organization, the division between traditional and rationally oriented behavior is not very great within armies.3 Indeed, in any army there is always a struggle going on between tradition and reason. Historically, during periods of little change in the state of military technology the tendency has been for the nonrational characteristics to become dominant.4 Given this inherent conflict in any a It is significant that the most common weaknesses of civil bureaucracies in the new countries—like exaggerating the importance of procedure to the point of ritualizing the routine, and the lack of initiative and of a pragmatic and experimental outlook—are not as serious drawbacks to smooth functioning of military establishment. On the contrary, the very qualities that have hobbled civil administration in these countries have given strength and rigidity to their military establishments. 4 The classic discussion of the spirit of militarism as contrasted with the rational military mind is Alfred Vagts, A History of Militarism: Ro­ mance and Realities of a Profession, New York, 1937.

LUCIAN W. PYE

military organization the question arises as to why the forces of custom and ritual do not readily dominate the armies of the newly emergent countries, and so cause them to oppose the forces of change. In societies where tradi­ tional habits of mind are still strong one might expect the military to be strongly conservative. Such was largely the case in the West during the preindustrial period. By con­ trast, in most of the newly emergent countries armies have tended to emphasize a rational outlook and to champion responsible change and national development. This state of affairs is largely explained by the extent to which the armies in these countries have been influenced by contemporary Western military technology. In par­ ticular, nearly all of the new countries have taken the World War II type of army as their model.5 In so doing they have undertaken to create a form of organization that is typical of and peculiar to the most highly industrialized civilization yet known. Indeed, modern armies are essen­ tially industrial-type entities. Thus the armies of the new countries are instinct with the spirit of rapid technological development. The fact that these new armies in preindustrial societies are modeled after industrial-based organizations has many implications for their political roles. One of their character­ istics is particularly significant: the specialization that modern armies demand in skills and functions is only distantly related to the command of violence. There has generally been a tremendous increase in the number of officers assigned to staff functions as contrasted with line 5 World War II was in itself a decisive event in the birth of many of these countries and, of course, the availability of large quantities of surplus equipment and arms made it realistic to aspire to a modernized army. American military aid has contributed to making the military the most modernized element in not only recipient countries, but also in neighbor­ ing countries which have felt the need to keep up with technological advances.

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commands. As the armies have striven to approximate their ideal models they have had to establish all manner of specialized organizations and departments that require skills that are either in short supply or nonexistent in their societies. The Burmese Army, for example, in addition to its engineer and signal corps has special sections on chemical warfare, psychological warfare, and even a his­ torical and archaeological section. All the new armies have attempted to introduce specialized training schools and advanced techniques of personnel management and pro­ curement. Consequently, numbers of the more intelligent and ambitious officers have had to be trained in industrial skills more advanced than those common to the civilian economy. The high proportion of officers assigned to staff functions means that large numbers of officers are forced to look outside their society for their models. The fact that army leaders, particularly the younger and more ambitious, generally come from those trained in staff positions means that they are extremely sensitive to the needs of moderniza­ tion and technological advancement. This kind of sensi­ tivity bears little relationship to the command of physical violence and tests of human endurance—in short, to the martial spirit as we customarily think of it. In consequence the officers often find that they are spiritually in tune with the intellectuals, students, and those other elements in society most anxious to become a part of the modern world. They may have little in common with the vast majority of the men they must command. In this respect the gap between the officer class and the troops, once largely a mat­ ter of social and economic class (as it still is to some degree), has now been widened by differences in the degree of acculturation to modern life. It should be noted that these revolutionary changes in military life have significantly influenced the status of the

LUCIAN W. PYE

military profession in different societies and hence have had an interesting effect on relative national power. Cul­ tures that looked down on the military at an earlier stage of technology now accord high prestige to the same pro­ fession as it has raised its technology. For example, when armies depended entirely on human energy and animal power the Chinese placed the soldier near the bottom of the social hierarchy; with present levels of advanced mili­ tary technology the soldier is now near the top of the social scale in both Communist and non-Communist China. The change has been more in the nature of the military pro­ fession than in basic Chinese cultural values. Conversely, peoples once considered "martial" may now show little interest in, or aptitude for, the new kind of soldiering. Above all else, however, the revolution in military technology has caused the army leaders of the newly emergent countries to be extremely sensitive to the extent to which their countries are economically and technologi­ cally underdeveloped. Called upon to perform roles basic to advanced societies, the more politically conscious officers can hardly avoid being aware of the need for substantial changes in their own societies. It might seem that those occupying positions in other modern-type organizations in underdeveloped societies would also feel much the same need for change. To what­ ever extent this may be so, three distinctive features of armies seem to make them somewhat more dynamic in demanding changes. First of all, armies by nature are rival institutions in the sense that their ultimate function is the test of one against the other. All other organizations operate within the context of their own society; although their initial inspiration may have come from abroad, their primary focus is on internal developments. The civil bureaucracy, for example, can, and indeed has to, deal with its domestic

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problems with little regard for what other bureaucracies in other countries are doing. The soldier, however, is con­ stantly called upon to look abroad and to compare his organization with foreign ones. He thus has a greater aware­ ness of international standards and a greater sensitivity to weaknesses in his own society. Second, armies for all their concern with rationality and becoming highly efficient machines are relatively im­ mune to pragmatic tests of efficiency on a day-to-day basis. Armies are created for future contingencies, and in many underdeveloped countries these contingencies have never had to be faced. Even in countries such as Burma and Indo­ nesia, where the army is forced to deal with internal security problems, the effects have been mainly to increase the resources available for building up the army according to the ideal model, with remarkably few concessions being made to practical needs. Other modernized organizations in underdeveloped societies have to cope with more im­ mediate and day-to-day problems; hence they must con­ stantly adjust themselves to local conditions. They cannot adhere as rigidly as armies can to their Western prototypes. Just as Western armies have often existed in a dream world of planning for types of wars that never occur, so armies of underdeveloped countries can devote themselves to be­ coming modernized and more "efficient" with little regard to immediate reality. Members of other modern-type organizations may desire to see social change in their society, but they are likely to be more conscious of the need to accommodate their ambitions to existing conditions. Finally, armies always stand at some distance from their civilian societies and are even expected to have ways of their own, including attitudes and judgments, that are remote if not completely apart from those of civilian life. Thus again armies of the newly emergent countries can feel somewhat divorced from the realities of a transitional

LUCIAN W. PYE

society and focus more on the standards common to the more industrialized world. In consequence they are often unaware of the difficulties inherent in modernizing other segments of their society. Within their tradition all prob­ lems can be overcome if the right orders are given. ARMIES AS MODERNIZING AGENTS

So much for the army as one of the more modernized of the authoritative agencies of government in transitional societies. When we consider it as a modernizing force for the whole of society, we move into a less clearly defined area where the number of relevant considerations becomes much greater and where we are likely to find greater differ­ ences from country to country. Indeed, we shall be able to deal only generally with the social and political aspects of military service and some of the more indirect influences of armies on civilian attitudes. In all societies it is recognized that armies must make those who enter them into the image of the good soldier. The underdeveloped society adds a new dimension: the good soldier is also to some degree a modernized man. Thus it is that the armies in the newly emergent countries come to play key roles in the process by which traditional ways give way to more Westernized ideas and practices. The very fact that the recruit must break his ties and associa­ tions with civilian life and adjust to the more impersonal world of the army tends to emphasize the fundamental nature of this process, which involves the movement out of the particularistic relationships of traditional life and into the more impersonal and universalistic relationships of an industrialized society. Army training is thus consistent with the direction taken by the basic process of acculturation in traditional societies. Within the army, however, the rate of accultura­ tion is greatly accelerated. This fact contributes to the

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tendency of army officers to underestimate the difficulties of changing the civilian society. Probably the most significant feature of the acculturation process as it takes place under the auspices of the army is that it provides a relatively high degree of psychological security. The experience of breaking from the known and relatively sheltered world of tradition and moving into the more unknown modern world is generally an extremely traumatic one. In contrast to the villager who is caught up in the process of being urbanized, the young army recruit from the village has the more sheltered, the more gradual introduction into the modern world. It is hardly necessary to point out the disturbing fact that the urbanization process as it has taken place in most Asian, African, and Latin-American societies has generally tended to produce a highly restless, insecure population. Those who have been forced off the land or attracted to the cities often find them­ selves in a psychologically threatening situation. These are the people who tend to turn to extremist politics and to look for some form of social and personal security in politi­ cal movements that demand their total commitment. In contrast, those who are exposed to a more technologically advanced way of life in the army find that they must make major adjustments, but that these adjustments are all treated explicitly and openly. In the army one can see what is likely to happen in terms of one's training and one's future. This is not the case in the city. It should also be noted that the acculturative process in the army often tends to be more thorough and of a broader scope than the urbanization process. In all the main Asian cities there are those who still follow many of the habits and practices of the village. They may live still within the orbit of their family and have only limited outside associations and contacts. These people have made some adjustment to the modern world, but they are likely

LUCIAN W. PYE

to be faced with even more in the future, and thus they remain potential sources of political tension. It should also be noted that the acculturative process in the army tends to be focused on acquiring technical skills that are of particular value for economic develop­ ment. Just as the army represents an industrialized organi­ zation, so must those who have been trained within it learn skills and habits of mind which would be of value in other industrial organizations. In the West, armies have played a very important role in providing technical training and even direct services in the process of industrial develop­ ment. The German Army trained large numbers of non­ commissioned officers who performed important functions as foremen in the German steel mills and in other indus­ tries. In the United States the Corps of Engineers, of course, played a central role in the whole development of the West; and, after the Civil War, army veterans provided considerable amounts of the skill and knowledge which, when combined with the influx of immigrants, provided a basis for much of our industrial development. In Latin America the Brazilian Army has played an important part in opening the interior, in promoting the natural sciences, and in protecting the Indian population. In Asia, too, we can see much the same story being enacted now. Before the war the compulsory training in the Japanese Army pro­ vided the whole society with increasing reservoirs of man­ power which contributed directly to the development of an industrial society. Army veterans in India have played an important role not only in lower-level industrial jobs, but also in managerial positions. In Malaya and the Philippines the army has been the main instrument for training people in operating and maintaining motor vehicles and other forms of machinery. Politically the most significant feature of the process of acculturation within the army is that it usually provides

THE PROCESS OF POLITICAL MODERNIZATION

some form of training in citizenship. Recruits with tradi­ tional backgrounds must learn about a new world in which they are identified with a larger political self. They learn that they stand in some definite relationship to a national community. In this sense the army experience tends to be a politicizing experience. Even if recruits are not given explicit training in political matters, they are likely to learn that events in their society are determined by human decisions and not just by chance and fate. Within the army the peasant may come to realize that much in life can be changed and that commands and wishes have consequences. Thus even aside from any formal training in patriotism the recruit is likely to achieve some awareness of the political dimensions of his society. It is therefore not surprising that in many of the newly emergent countries veterans have had appreciable political influence even after only limited mili­ tary experience. Armies in the newly emergent countries can thus pro­ vide a sense of citizenship and an appreciation of political action. In some cases this can lead to a more responsible nationalism. Indeed, the recruit may be impressed with the fact that he must make sacrifices to achieve the goals of nationalism and that the process of nation-building in­ volves more than just the shouting of slogans. At the same time there is always the potential danger that the armies will become the center of hypernationalistic movements, as in the case of prewar Japan. Because the army represents one of the most effective channels for upward social mobility, military-inspired na­ tionalism often encompasses a host of personalized emo­ tions and sentiments about civilian society. Invariably the men, and sometimes even the officers, come from extremely humble circumstances, and it is only within the army that they are first introduced to the possibility of systematically advancing themselves. In transitional societies, where

LUCIAN W. PYE

people's station in life is still largely determined by birth and by chance opportunities, powerful reactions usually follow from placing people in a position where they can recognize a definite and predictable relationship between effort and reward. The practice of giving advancement on merit can encourage people, first, to see the army as a just organization deserving of their loyalties, and then possibly, to demand that the same form of justice reign throughout their society. Those who do move up to positions of greater respect and power through the army may often carry with them hostilities toward those with greater advantages and au­ thority in civilian society. The tendency of the military to question whether the civilian elite achieved their station by merit adds another conflict to civil-military relations in most underdeveloped countries. More often than not the military show these feelings by seeking to make national loyalty and personal sacrifice the crucial test of national leadership. The relationship between armies and civilian leaders varies, of course, according to the circumstances of historic development. For this reason a large part of this volume is devoted to case studies. Broadly speaking, however, it is helpful to distinguish three different general categories of such relationships. There are first those patterns of development in which the military stand out because in a disrupted society they represent the only effectively organized element capable of competing for political power and formulating public policy. This situation is most likely to exist when the traditional political order, but not necessarily the tradi­ tional social order, has been violently disrupted and it becomes necessary to set up representative institutions before any of the other modern-type political organizations have been firmly established. The outstanding example of

THE PROCESS OF POLITICAL MODERNIZATION

this pattern of development is modern China from the fall of the Manchu dynasty in 1911 to the victory of the Com­ munists. Indeed, it is possible to think of this period as one dominated by a constant struggle to escape from the grim circumstances that obtained when only military or­ ganizations survived the fall of the traditional systems. Hence the military became the only effective political entity. Thereafter nothing could be done without them, and yet the military could do little without effective civil­ ian institutions. Comparable situations seem to exist at present in some Middle Eastern countries where Western influence brought a commitment to republican institutions but left the army as the only effective modern political structure in the entire society. A second category includes those countries where the military, while formally espousing the development of democracy, actually monopolizes the political arena and forces any emerging civilian elite to concentrate on eco­ nomic and social activities. In many ways this arrangement is reminiscent of the Belgian variety of colonialism. At present, the most outstanding example of this form of rule is Thailand. A third major category, which is probably the largest, consists of those countries in which the organization and structures essential to democratic government exist but have not been able to function effectively. The process of modernization has been retarded to such a point that the army, as the most modernized organization in the society, has assumed an administrative role and taken over control. In these cases there is a sense of failure in the country, and the military are viewed as possible saviors. Before turning to our case studies, it is appropriate to note briefly some of the broader implications of the role of the armies in transitional countries—particularly in terms of international stability. The ways in which new

LUCIAN W. PYE

societies are being created will have profound significance for the entire world. At the same time it is unrealistic to conclude that the army's role in the new countries is deter­ mined only by domestic developments. The nature of the contemporary international order and the focus of Western policies have had a profound influence on military institu­ tions throughout the underdeveloped areas. There has been a tendency in some quarters to regard the trend toward military rule as favorable to American policy interests. In particular, army rule has been wel­ comed as promising greater political stability and firmer policies against communism. Unfortunately, in the past we have generally been poor judges of leadership in the new countries. In fact, we have been so anxious to wish the new countries well that we have not been very realistic in appraising their national leadership. We have often placed faith in, and indeed lionized, men who are mediocre by any standard of measurement. The fault is more serious than just a misplaced sense of charitableness, for by refus­ ing to employ realistic standards of judgment we encourage the lack of realism and even quackery in the political life of many of these countries. In seeking a realistic estimate of the potential role of the military in the political development of particular countries it is also necessary to avoid being excessively influenced by ideological considerations which may be relevant only in advanced societies. We have in mind, in particular, the Western stereotype of the military as a foe of liberal values. This bias, for example, tends at present to take the form of seeing "military aid" as a threat to eco­ nomic and political development and of assuming that only "economic aid" can make a positive contribution to such form of development. In some cases military aid has in fact made substantial contributions to road building, health facilities, communications networks and the like,

THE PROCESS OF POLITICAL MODERNIZATION

all of which have directly facilitated economic growth. In other cases it has been equally clear that our military aid has seriously retarded economic development by diverting an excessive amount of the nation's energies into unpro­ ductive channels. The point is only that in our thinking about the newly emergent countries we must avoid stereo­ types and expect many paradoxes. If we are able to do so, we will be less surprised to note, for example, that it has been through the military that we have best been able to establish effective relations with the most strongly neutralist nations in Southeast Asia. With both Burma and Indonesia we have had considerable diffi­ culties in almost every dimension of our relationships. Recently, however, it has appeared that we have been able to develop more genuine and straightforward relations with their military than with any other political element. Out of these relations have come further possibilities for cooperation. Thus, rather ironically, after the Burmese terminated our program of economic assistance to them, it was possible to reestablish such assistance only by first providing them with military aid. In this way confidence was reestablished and the stage set for their reacceptance of economic aid. This particular example may, in fact, point up a most important consideration about armies in the new countries. For the various reasons which we have mentioned the army is often the most modernized public organization in an underdeveloped country, and as a consequence its leaders often feel more self-confident and are more able to deal frankly and cordially with representatives of in­ dustrialized countries. Military leaders are often far less suspicious of the West than civilian leaders because they themselves are more emotionally secure. This sense of security makes it possible for army leaders to look more realistically at their countries. All of these considerations

LUCIAN W. PYE

make it easier for the military leaders to accept the fact that their countries are weak and the West is strong with­ out becoming emotionally disturbed or hostile toward the West. Since these leaders seem to have less need to avoid realities, they are in fact easier people with whom to deal and to carry on straightforward relations. It is important, however, to note from the example that it is possible, and indeed it is essential, to expand a narrow relationship with the military into a much broader one. Military aid has had to become economic aid. Satis­ factory relations with the military can become a dead end, just as military rule itself can become sterile if it does not lead to an interest in total national development. This is only to say that while it may be possible to find in the armies of underdeveloped countries an element of stability, we should not confuse this with political stability for the entire society. The military may provide an oppor­ tunity and a basis for cooperation, but the objective must remain the development of stable representative institu­ tions and practices. In planning for this objective it is essential to conceive of it as involving far more than just the efficient administration of public policies. It is neces­ sary to keep in mind that in the past the West has come to these societies largely in the guise of administrators. This was the nature of colonialism, and we have tended to step into this role with our emphasis upon economic aid. In cooperating with the military we again are essen­ tially strengthening this role of the administrator. In most underdeveloped countries there is at present a genuine need to improve the standards of public administration. In fact, unless such improvements take place they will be able to realize few of their national goals. However, there is a deeper problem, and this is the problem of developing effective relations between the administrators and the politicians. The disturbing fact is that we can with relative

THE PROCESS OF POLITICAL MODERNIZATION

ease help people perform administrative roles, but we have not been particularly successful in devising ways of training people to the role of the democratic politician. In many respects this difficulty is the heart of the problem in our relations with the new countries. This leads us to the conclusion that the military in the underdeveloped countries can make a major contribution to strengthening essentially administrative functions. If the new countries are to become modern nation-states they will have to have a class of competent administrators. They will also have to have responsible and skilled politicians. In cooperating with the military in these countries we should therefore recognize that they can contribute to only a limited part of national development. In particular, in assisting them to raise standards in the realm of public administration, we should also make certain that our assist­ ance does not lead to a stifling of an even more basic aspect of political development: the growth of responsible and representative politicians.

THE LATIN-AMERICAN MILITARY AS A POLITICALLY COMPETING GROUP IN TRANSITIONAL SOCIETY BY JOHN J. JOHNSON

M

ILITARISM, by which is meant the domination of the military man over the civilian, the undue emphasis upon military demands, or any tran­ scendence by the armed forces of "true military purposes," has been and is a fact of life in Latin America. Since World War II only Uruguay, Costa Rica, Chile, and Mexico have been free of serious military meddling in civilian affairs. In a majority of the other republics the personnel of the armed forces repeatedly have mobilized violence for political purposes. Between October 1945 and the end of September 1957, de facto regimes succumbed to military pressure or armed rebellion in all but five of the twenty republics. During the same span of time four heads of government were assassinated, and one president, under pressure from the military, put a bullet through his heart. Since 1955, General Per45. >52. 159. !7i Angola, 381 Bayle, Luis A Somoza de, 91 anticlericalism, see Catholic church Begin, Menahem, 341 Anti-Fascist People's Freedom Bekas Pedjuang Islam Persendjata League (Burma): results of 1958 (Indonesia), 195 split in, 231ft, dissatisfaction of Bekas Tentara Peladjar (Indonesia), administrators with policies of, 196 243-45; attitude of military toBelgian Congo, see Congo, Republic ward, 248-49 of Belgium: colonial military policies Arakanese, 236 Aramburu, Pedro E., 108 of, 379-81, 391-92, 395-96 Araquistdin, Luis de, 166 Ben-Gurion, David, 331, 340, 342Arbenz, Jacobo, 134, 137-38, 156, 159 43, 351-52; re Lavon Affair, 355Arivalo, Juan, 158 57 Argentina, 91, 107, 128, 138, 140; BEPPAN, 189 agriculture, 105; education, 105; Berlin Conference of 1884-85, 361 fascism, 133, 170-72; finance, 125, Bernadotte, Folke, 341 411

INDEX Betancourt, R6mulo, 139, 158; on fascist-type militarists, 170; on military officers, 182 Bizri, Afif, 314 Bolivar, Simon, 97-100 Bolivia: Chaco War, 125-26; enfran­ chisement, 117: finance, 157-58: military budget, 157-58; military personnel distribution, 176; mili­ tary's involvement in public works, 148-49, 173, 182; military's revolutionary role, 110, 141, 14344, 146, 154, 161; military's tech­ nocratic element, 173; revolutions, 141, 143-44; urban middle groups, 117; War of the Pacific, 108 boundary maintenance, 45; in Latin America, 107, 168; in Sub-Saharan Africa, 394 Bourguiba, Habib, 298 Bowles, Chester: on neutralization of Africa, 404 Bowordet, Prince, 258 Bowordet Rebellion (Thailand), 273 Brazil, 162; agriculture, 105, 148; boundaries, 107; civil service, 128; communications, 148; enfranchise­ ment, 117; finance, 115; guerrilla warfare, 144; industrialization, 82, 114, 121-22; military budget, 125, 151; military personnel distribu­ tion, 176; military's political role, 110-11, 149, 151, 160; military pro­ fessionalism, 108-09, 163; military's revolutionary role, 138-40, 143-44, 149; nationalism, 123; public works, 148; revolutions, 138-40, 143-44; urban middle groups, 117 Brazzaville Conference (1944), 377 British Somaliland, see Somalia British Togoland, see Ghana British West Africa: colonial mili­ tary training in, 368-72. See also Gambia, Ghana, Sierra Leone, Tanganyika Brussels Conference (1890), 3Θ2 Budiardjo, Ali, 207 Burma, 12, 60; administrators and politicians, 235-45; AFPFL, 23538, 243-45, 248-49; guerrilla forces,

7, 39, 54; military's future, 249251; military's political role 195860, 231-34, 245-49; military and political scene, 40, 52, 55-56, 58, 77, 79; military versus AFPFL and administrators, 235-40; political parties, 38, 235-38; public opinion, 42; public works, 245-46; social structure, 240-42; relations with U.S., 87 Busch, Germin, 133, 138, 156 Bustamente, Josi Luis, 151 Buwono, Hamengku, 207 Calles, Plutarcho EliSs, 138 Cambodia, 12 Cameroons (German), 363 Cameroun (French), 384; military establishment in, 390, 393 Carranza, Venustiano, 114, 138 Carrera, Rafael, 97, 101η Casablanca Conference (African), 393-94 Castro, Fidel, 126, 145 Catholic church: in Latin America, 96, 103, 106, 112, 116, 126-27, 168 caudillos: in Latin-American postIndependence movement, 101-3; decline of, 106, 111. See also mili­ tary, Latin-American Ceylon, 12, 31, 49, 60 Chaco War, 125-26 Chad, Republic of, 12, 377, 390 Chile, 91, 118; boundaries, 107; civil service, 128; education, 105; en­ franchisement, 117; finance, 125; industrialization, 114-15, 121; mili­ tary's political role, 92, 108-11, 125, 132-33. 138-40, 143. !49. !54. 161, 170, 176, 181; public works, 149; social structure, 109, 140; technological progress, 111; urban middle groups, 117; urbanization, 114-15 China, 78, 85, 236 Chinese: as Thai minority group, 260 cities, see urbanization civil service: in nascent nations, 26, 39; in India, 44; in a military oli-

INDEX garchy, 54, 57; in Sub-Saharan Africa, 64; in Latin-America, 128 classes, see intellectuals, peasants; social structure; urban middle groups Club Militar (Brazil), 126 Colombia, 91, 98, 101, 138-39; finance, 115, 157; Fluharty on military in, 147-48; guerrilla war­ fare, 144-45; industrialization, 1 14, 121; revolutions, 93, 132, 141; role of military, 93, 119, 121, 133, 141, 147-48,

153,

Rojas Pinilla,

157,

161-62,

176;

91, 127-29, 134, 138-

39, 147, 152-54, 156-57, 159, 161;

Santos on military in, 153; urban­ ization, 115 commercialization: in nascent na­ tions, 11. See also economic prog­ ress; industrialization communications: in oligarchic re­ gimes, 50; in Latin America, 105, 107, 111, 120, 143, 148-49

Communist Party: in Indonesia, 186, 195, 202, 218-19, 227-30; in Burma, 235, 239; in Syria, 296. See also political parties Comte, Auguste: influence in Latin America, 108 Congo, Republic of the, 8, 12, 39, 339; lack of political order, 45; military effect of colonial rule, 291-92

Constant, Benjamin Magalhaes, 108 Corps Pedjuang Nasional Indonesia, 196

Costa Rica, 91, 118, 128, 161; mili­ tary budget, 157, 158; distribution of military personnel, 176; pro­ poses Latin-American arms limi­ tation, 181 Cuba, 91, 128, 138; Batista, 91, 121, 128,

138,

145,

152,

159,

171;

finance, 157, 159; industrializa­ tion, 114, 121; military's political role, 121, 126, 145-46, 152, 161, 176; public works, 149; revolution in, 145-46; urbanization, 115 culture, traditional·, relation of modern intellectual to, ig-22; in

Indonesia,

217-19;

in Thailand,

266-67

Cyprus, 7, 12 Czechoslovakia,

187

Dahomey, 378 Darul Islam movement, 195 de Gaulle, Charles, 8, 388 demilitarization: proposals for Afri­ can, 404-5. See also neutralism democracy: in nascent nations, 8-10, 44-45. 59-60; in Afro-Asia, 13; economic progress needed to sus­ tain, 27; nature of opposition, 34; comparison with oligarchic sys­ tems, 49-50, 62-65; in Israel, 35152 Democrat Party (Thailand), 261 Democratic Action Party (Venezu­ ela), 170, 182 Diaz, Porfirio, 111 Djogja Charter, 210 Djuanda, Ing., 813-14 Dominican Republic, 91, 128, 159-60, 176

economic progress: in general, 10-11, 13, 17-18, 25-27; in civilian oligar­ chies, 50-52; in Latin America, 103-7; " ! - i s , 114-16, 118, 120, 124-

25. 137-39. >43. 156"6°. 170-74. 180-81; in Burma, 246-47; in Thailand, 256; in the Middle East, 301-2; in Israel, 317-18. See also commercialization, industrial­ ization Ecuador, 92, 108, 115, 125, 145, 151, 162, 176

education: as modernity require­ ment, 10; as related to class struc­ ture, 17-23, 60-66; in the Middle East, 52-53; in military oligar­ chies, 54, 57-58; in Burma, 77; in Latin America, 105, 124, 149; in Israel, 317; in Belgian Congo, 379; in Sub-Saharan Africa, 397-98, 400-1. See also intellectuals Egypt, see United Arab Republic Eisenhower, Dwight D., 8; on neu­ tralization of Africa, 404-5

INDEX elite, political, 48-44, 44-45, 58-53, 64 enfranchisement, 14, 36-37; as modernity requirement, 10; in­ creases class conflicts, 17; in Latin America, 117-18. See also individ­ ual states Enlightenment, see French Revolu­ tion Eritrea, 383 Escuelas Rurales Civico Militares (Cuba), 149 Estigarribia, Felix, 138 Ethiopia, 13η, 46, 383, 394, 401-3 fascism: in Latin America, 133, 16972 Federation of Rhodesia and Nyasaland, 365, 372, 374-75. 383 Fernando VII, 166 Fighters for Freedom of Israel, see Zionist Movement Flores, Juan Josi, 99 Fluharty, Vernon: on reform-minded military regimes, 147-48 Force Publique (Belgian Congo), 39, 379-81, 391 Fox, William T. R., 70 France, 395; and Latin America, 163; and Syria, 295; and Sub-Saharan Africa, 361, 363, 376-79; and Mali, 387-89; and Guinea, 388-89; and French African Community, 3899°

Franco, Rafael, 133, 138, 156, 167 French Equatorial Africa, 376-79. See also individual states French Revolution: effect on LatinAmerican political systems, 104, 106 French West Africa, 376-79. See also individual states Front Demokrasi Rakjat (Indo­ nesia), 203-4 Fuentes, Ldpez y, 92 Gabon, 12 Gaharu, Sjamaun, 197 Gaku -tai (Indonesian Corps), 192 Galili, Israel, 342

Student

Gallegos, R0mulo, 92, 139, 151 Gambia, 368 Gandhi, Mahatma, 38 German East Africa, 118. See also Ruanda-Urundi Germany: and Latin America, 107-8, 140, 163, 174-75; and Sub-Saharan Africa, 361, 363 Ghana, 12, 31, 38, 49, 60, 383-84, 399; civil service, 64; military budget, 396; multiple dependency relationships, 387-88; Pan-Africanist feeling, 392; political parties, 380; World War II veterans, 397 Gokhale, 38 Gold Coast (Ghana), 368-69; mili­ tary establishment, 370-71 G6mez, Juan Vincente, 99, 119, 159 gorilas (Argentina), 172 Graham, Walter A.: on traditional Thai economy, 256 Great Britain: colonial education, 52-53; and Indonesia, 187; and Burma, 236-37, 240-42; and Mid­ dle East, 282-83, 285; and Egypt, 285; and Palestine, 324-29, 331-36; and Sub-Saharan Africa, 361, 36466; and the Sudan, 366-68; and West Africa, 368-72; and East and Central Africa, 372-73; and South­ ern Africa, 374-75; dependency of Ghana and Sudan on, 387-88; dependency of Nigeria on, 389-91 Group of United OflBcers (Argen­ tina), 126, 136, 142, 171 Guatemala, 134, 138, 160; 1838 de­ mands of Carrera, 101η; 1944 military coup, 132, 141; land re­ form, 147; military budget, 158; peculation by Arbenz, 159; dis­ tribution of military personnel, 176 guerrilla warfare: in independence movements, 7; in twentieth cen­ tury Latin-America, 144-45; lascars in Indonesia, 191-92, 195, 209, 21213; Igo Kummu Tai in Indonesia, 192-93; East Indonesian KRIS, 197; in Middle East, 287-88, 310 Guinea (French), 12, 377, 384, 390,

INDEX 7; military's post-1959 political involvement, 213-15; military's cultural determinants, 215-19; military's future, 224-30; present political scene, 219-24; public opinion, 41; and U.S., 87. See also military, Indonesian Indonesian Officers' Association, 209 hacendados: colonial Latin-Ameri­ industrialization: as "modernity" requirement, 10-11; entrepreneurs can social unit, 94-96, 101-2, 106 in, 25; in oligarchic regimes, 50Hagana: organization of, 330. See 51; in Latin America, 114-16, 121also Palestine; Zionist Movement Haiti, 128, 162, 176 23. '37. '39' '48. 156-57» l8°- See also economic progress Ha-Kibbutz Ha-Meiihad, 342 Integralistas (Brazil), 132 Harahap, B., 211 intellectuals: relation to traditional Hassen II, 298 culture and changing political Hatta, Mohammed, 195, 203-5, 211 climates, 19-22; technical and ex­ Haya de la Torre, Victor Raiil, 169 ecutive, 22-23; strive tor economic Herzl, Theodor, 323-24 progress, 25; oppositional outlook Hidajat, R., 189 strong among, 33-34, 47; model of Hinnawi, Sami, 296 modern totalitarian oligarchy ap­ Histadrut Ha-Ovdim, 329, 352 peals to, 48; in Latin America, Hizbullah (Islamic Youth Corps), 95-99, 116 192. '95 Honduras: finance, 115, military Inter-American Bank for Develop­ ment, 181 personnel distribution, 176; tech­ Inter-American Conference for the nocratic military element, 173 Maintenance of Peace (Buenos housing: in Latin America, 137; in Aires), 181 military oligarchies, 54 Inter-American Defense Board, 177 Inter-American Treaty for Recipro­ Ibifiez, Carlos, 138, 154, 156, 161 cal Assistance, 128 Icaza, Jorge, 92 Ikatan Bekas Pedjuana (Indonesia), Iran, 227, 282; military bureaucracy, 292-93, 295; political parties, 314 »95 illiteracy, see education Iraq, 7, 12, 40, 49, 52, 277, 282, 287; communism in, 314; military as immigration: to Israel, 326, 344; to nationalizing force, 32; military Latin America, 105, 107 bureaucracy, 292-94; oligarchic India, 12, 38, 52, 60, 64, 82; colonial rule, 45, 54-55; political parties, education, 52-53: military and civilian elites, 7-8; nature of mili­ 55-60, 309 tary, 39-40; preconditions for de­ Irgun Ha-Hagana, see Hagana Irgun Iz'va'i Leiimi, see Zionist mocracy, 44; public opinion, 41 Movement Indonesia, 5, 12, 31, 45, 49, 60, 79; education, 53; guerrilla forces, 7, Israel, 5-6, 12, 38, 52, 282-84; guer­ rilla forces, 7; creation of army, 39; June 1955 affair, 209-13; mili­ 39; preconditions for democracy, tary's indigenous elite, 53-54, 187; 44; politico-economic status, 317military in pre-Independence 18; Zionist mystique of militancy, period, 187-94; military's non318-21; nature and composition of ideological base, 198-200; military military, 346-48; civilian duties of in post-Independence period, 200-

395; military budget, 396; multi­ ple dependency relationships, 38789; political parties, 380; PanAfricanist feeling, 384, 39«; World War II veterans, 397 Guinea (Portuguese), 381 Guzmin Blanco, Antonio, 111

INDEX military, 348-50; unlikelihood of military coup, 350-51; nature of political institutions, 351-52, 35354; the Lavon Affair, 354-57 Italian Somalia, see Somalia Italy: and Latin America, 140, 163, 175 Ivory Coast, 12, 377, 389 Jabotinsky, Vladimir, 324-35 Jani, Achmad, 191 Japan: and Indonesia, 187, 189-94, 196-99; and Thailand, 260 Jarrah, Mohammed, 314 Jerusalem, 340-41 Jewish Agency for Palestine, 333, 342 Jibaku-tai, see Barisan Berani Mati Jordan, 12, 49, 52, 277, 282, 287, 297; military bureaucracy, 292-94; monarchy's reliance on military, 7 judiciary: in a military oligarchy, 57 Kachins, 236 Kahin, George, 201-2, 204-5 Kahlil, Abdullah, 360 Kaikyo Seinen Teishin-tai, see Hizbullah Karens: in Burmese civil war, 235-36 Kassem, Abdul, 55, 306, 309 Kawilarang, Alexis, 206, 211-12 Kenya, 365, 372*73. 397. 399 Khaled Muhi ad-Din, 314 Khan, A., 313 Khan, Abdu Sayeed, 53 King's African Rifles, 372-75 KNIL, see military, Indonesian Korea, Republic of, 7, 12, 52, 55 KRIS, see guerrilla warfare Kusumasumantri, Iwa, 211 Kuwait, 12 land reform, see agriculture landowners, see social structure; tra­ ditionalism Lanz, Laureano Vallenilla, 99 Laos, 12, 52 Larrazdbal, Wolfgang, 128 Lascar Rakjat (Indonesian People's Army), 195

Latif, M., 314 Latin America,

caudillo era, economic growth, 104-7; post-World War I eco­ nomic growth, 114-16; fascism, 169-72; finance, 156-60; industrial­ ization, 121-23; military bureauc­ ratization and specialization, 10710; militarism defined, 165, 17483; military's 1810-50 political role, 95-104; military's post -1850 political role, 110-11; military's twentieth-century political role, 91-93, 118-24, 131-40, 147-60; mili­ tary's future role, 124-29, 180-83; military professionalism, 161-63; nationalism, 123-24; personalism as a political determinant, 100-2; social structure, 112-14, 132, 13449. '55*56. 1^o; technological prog­ ress, 111-12, 172-74; urban middle groups, 116-18, 134-35, '40-47; urbanization, 115-16; Wars of In­ dependence, 93-95. See also Catho­ lic church; intellectuals; military; social structure; individual states Lavon Affair, 354-57 Lavon, Pinhas, see Lavon Affair Ldzaro Cirdenas, 137-38, 155 League of Nations; mandate agree­ ments for Africa, 363 Lebanon, 7, 12, 44, 52, 54, 60, 277, 297, 300; military bureaucracy, 4-5, 8;

165-69; 1810-50

292-94

Liberia, 401 Libya, 12, 49, 283, 292-94, 297 llaneros (Venezuela), 96-98 L6pez Contreras, Eleazar, 159 Lubiz, Z., 210-12 Lucero, Franklin, 160 Lumumba, Patrice, 391-92 Madagascar, 12 Madium rebellion (Indonesia), 203 Magloire, Paul, 159 Malaya, 12, 44, 82 Mali, 12, 377, 384, 390; multiple dependency relationships, 387-89; Pan-Africanist feeling, 392; World War II veterans, 397

INDEX Manchester, Alan; on military in Brazil, 149 Manipol (Indonesian Political Mani­ festo), 229-30 Mao Tse-tung, 228 Mapai Party (Israel), 352; in Lavon Affair, 355 Martin, Josi San: on monarchism, 100 Masjumi Party (Indonesia), 195, 212 Masur, C.: on Latin-American pro­ fessional soldiers, 97 Mauretania, 12, 377 Medina Angarita, Isaias, 159 Mendelssohn, Moses, 320 Menderes, Adnan, 292 Menon, V. K.. Krishna, 40 Mexico, 91, 110, 118, 138, 141, 161; civil service, 128; enfranchisement, 117; finance, 157-58; industrial­ ization, 111, 112Π, 113-14, 121, 17273; military budget, 157-58; mili­ tary personnel distribution, 176; military's technocratic element, 172-73; public works, 149; revolu­ tions, 144, 146; social structure, 105; urban middle groups, 106, 117; urbanization, 115 middle class, see social structure; urban middle groups Middle East, 5; economic progress, 301-2; military's bureaucratic structure, 289-95; military's char­ ismatic leadership, 303-4; mili­ tary's future role, 307-15; mili­ tary's historical determinants, 27778, 291-99; military's effect on nationalism and social reform, 281-85; military oligarchies, 52-55; military as political instrument, 285-89; military's political limita­ tions and advantages, 300-4; po­ litical parties, 302; urban middle groups, 278-81, 302-7, 312-15. See also individual states military, Burmese, 5; technical edu­ cation by, 77; 1958-60 transitional rule, 231-34; cultural homogeneity with civilian elites, 234-35; clashes with civilian elites, 235-40; analy­

sis of strengths and weaknesses, 238-39; frustrations of rule by, 245-49; future political role, 24951 Military Defense Assistance Pacts, 77 military, Indonesian·, as moderniz­ ing influence, 5; distribution and background of personnel, 186-87; under KNIL, 187-89; under the Japanese, 187-94; forms national­ ist resistance, 192-94; guerrillas, rebels, and veterans in post-1945 independence struggle, 194-97; 'ac^ of political sophistication among, 198-200; post-Independence rela­ tion to political order, 200-9; in June 1955 affair, 209-13; determi­ nants of present political role, 213-19, 221-24; as future political tool of Nasution, 224-27, 229 military, Israeli, see Israel, Pales­ tine, Zionist Movement military, Latin American, 8, 91-93; administrative incompetence, 15255; caudillos, 165-69; contempo­ rary nature and function, 118-24, !47-52, 176-83; enlisted man, 14546; economic conservatism of, 1034, 110-11; fascistic tendencies, 133, 169-72; financial policies, 156-60; future role, 124-29, 180-83; mid­ dle-class alliance with, 140-47; officer corps, 134-40; personalism in, 4-5; political conservatism, 95104, 110-14; professionalism of, 161-63; revolutionary aims, 15556; technocratic element, 23, 11112, 172-74; Wars of Independence, 93-95. See also individual states military, Middle Eastern, see Middle East; individual states military, Palestinian, see Zionist Movement military, Sub-Saharan African·, in Belgian Congo, 379-81; British colonial policy toward, 364-65; in British East and Central Africa, 372-73; in British West Africa, 368-72, 384; demilitarization pro­ posals, 404-5; economic demands

INDEX of, 394-96; educational functions, 396-98; external dependency rela­ tionships, 385-92; French legacy to, 376-79; KAR, 372-73; present nature, 53-54, 359-60, 382-85, 398403; Pan-Africanism's effect on, 392-94, 403; RWAFF, 368-72, 384; in Southern Africa, 374-75; in Sudan, 366-68. See also individual states military, Thai, see Thailand minority groups: in Afro-Asia, 15; in Burma, 235-36; in Thailand, 260 military, general; junior officers in nascent nations, 24-25; as nation­ alizing force, 31-33; technical edu­ cation, 35; replaces traditional individuality-inhibiting forces, 36; relation of internal stability to political attitudes, 39-40; and public opinion, 41-42; in oligar­ chic nations, 48, 52-59; political sociology of, 69-73; organizational advantages in transitional socie­ ties, 74-76; as quasi-industrial entity in transitional societies, 7678; and progressive social de­ mands, 78-80; role in basic process of acculturation in transitional societies, 80-84; relation to civilian elite in transitional social orders, 84-87; need for Western reap­ praisal of political role, 86-89. See also individual states Mobutu, Joseph, 391 modernity: as incentive in new states, 9-12; as incentive to tech­ nical-executive intelligentsia, 2223; effect of traditional culture on, 29-30; oligarchic tendencies among elites striving for, 49-52; differing political paths toward, 60-67. See also commercialization; economic progress; industrializa­ tion; technological innovation Mohammed Ali, 282 monarchism; in Latin-American po­ litical thinking, 99-100, 106 Mons: in Burmese civil war, 235

Morocco, 12, 40, 49, 287; nature and composition of military, 39, 28283, 292-94, 297^98: social structure, 305 Moslem Brotherhood, 313 Mountbatten, Louis, 193, 206 Movimiento Nacionalista Revolucionario (Bolivia), 126 Mozambique, 381 Murba Party (Indonesia): program of, 199-200, 205. See also national­ ism, in Indonesia; Tan Malaka Mutual Security Program, 176-77 Nagano, Osami, 190 Nagib, Mohammed, 285 Nahdatul Ulama Party (Indonesia), 195 Nasser, Gamal Abdel, 54, 284, 297, 302, 306, 309, 313-14 Nasution, Abdul H., 189, 204, 206-9, 211-12; relations with USSR, 186; bans veterans organizations, 196; as Minister for Security and De­ fense, 214; future political strat­ egy, 224-27, 229 National Front for the Liberation of West Irian, see West Irian National Religious Party (Israel), 355 national socialism, see naziism nationalism: causes split between intellectuals and politicians, 21-22; as affected by military traditional­ ism, 31-33; as oppositional force, 33-35; inherent in twentieth-cen­ tury traditionalism, 47; in Latin America, 123-24, 165, 167-68; in Indonesia, 192-93, 194-200; in the Middle East, 281-85, 301; in SubSaharan Africa, 383-84. See also Pan-Africanism; Zionist Move­ ment Nationalist Party (Indonesia), 195 Nationalist Party (Indonesia), see Tentara Nasional Indonesia Nationalist Party (Union of South Africa), 375 naziism: in Latin America, 133, 1707»

INDEX Neo-Destour Party (Tunisia), 294, 297 Netherlands, 53; and Indonesia, 18789, 197-200, 205-6

neutralism: in Sub-Saharan Africa, 360-63, 385, 393, 396. See also demilitarization New Guinea, see West Irian Ne Win, General, 247 New Zionist Organization, see Zion­ ist Movement Nicaragua, 92, 128, 160; military personnel, 176 Niger, 12, 378 Nigeria, 12, 384; preconditions for democracy, 44; civil service, 64; military establishment, 368-71; po­ litical parties, 380; post-Independ­ ence military dependency of, 38991; military budget, 396; World War II veterans, 397 Nkrumah, Kwame, 399 Northern Rhodesia, 365, 372 Nuri al-Sa'id, 313 Nyasaland, see Federation of Rho­ desia and Nyasaland Obreg0n, Alvaro, 113, 138 Odrii, Manuel, 91, 134, 152,

154,

171

oligarchy: authoritarian social struc­ ture in new states favors, 28; fea­ tures of a modern military, 52-59: features of a totalitarian, 47-49, 63: features of a traditional, 4547> 49-52, 62-63: Latin-American definition of, 169η; oppositional mentality as a factor in, 34 opposition, see public opinion Organization of American States, 128, 177, 181

Osorio, Oscar, 138 Ottoman Empire, 52-53, «95 Pakistan, 277,

281-82, 285,

7, 12, 39-40, 49, 52, 60,

282-83,

287,

297,

300,

309;

colonial education, 53; constitu­ tional opposition, 56: academic freedom, 58; military bureaucracy,

«95; military's political role, 39, 54-55, 298; 1951 alleged communist conspiracy, 313-14 Palestine, defeat of Arabs, 284; preMandate views on diplomatic uses of a Jewish army, 321-26; Zionists split on goals, 326; post-World War I self-defense groups, 326-30; rival Zionist paramilitary organ­ izations, 330-35; pre-Independence of paramilitary consolidation groups, 325-43. See also Israel; Zionist Movement Pan-Africanism, 384-85; in GhanaGuinea-Mali, 387-88; and intraAfrican relations, 392-94, 403 Panama, 138, 160; finance, 115; mili­ tary bureaucracy, 176 Paraguay, 91-92, 126, 138; finance, 157; military's political role, 108, 160, 169, 176; urbanization, 115 parochialism, 14-15, 31-33, 51-52. See also traditionalism Partai Murba, see Murba Party Party of the Institutionalized Revo­ lution (Mexico), i 2 i Patriotic Military Union (Venezue­ la), 136, 142 Paz Estenssoro, Victor, 158 peasants: little demand for economic development by, 25; effect of hierarchical structure of authority on, 28-29; in the Middle East, 305 Pedro II, 108, 110-11 Pemerintah Revolusioner Republik Indonesia (Revolutionary Govern­ ment of the Republic of Indo­ nesia), 212 People's Volunteer Organization (Burma), 236 PERBEPSI (Indonesia), 195 Peres, Shimon, 354 P^rez Jimenez, Marcos, 91, 119, 127, 129, 134, 182; military topples regime of, 144; peculation by, 159; encourages military professional­ ism, 162; demagogic appeal of, 292-93,

171

Permesta

movement

188, 197, 206

(Indonesia),

INDEX Per6n, Juan, 91, 120, 126, 133-34, !37-39, 149; balances political power of armed forces and labor, 121-22; fails in attempt to woo enlisted military, 146; static social nature of regime, 156; economic policies, 156; peculation by, 159; encourages military professional­ ism, 162; fascistic tendencies, 17072; militaristic policies, 179 Persatuan Perdjuangan (Indonesia), 201-3 Peru, 140; fascism, 169-70; industrial workers, 121; military's personnel distribution, 154, 162; military's political role, 132, 143, 145, 15152, 154, 162; military professional­ ism, 107-8, 162-63; public works, 148 Pesindo (Indonesian Socialist Youth), 195. «03 PETA (Indonesia), 189-94 Phahon Phonphayuhasena, 257 Phao Siyanon, 263-64 Phibun Songkhram, 260-61, 263-64, 269-70 Philippines, 12, 82 Phin Chunhawan, 263-64, 270 Phraya Mano, 259-60 Phraya Phahon, 260 Phumiphon, King, 270 Pirngadie, Rudi, 196, 210, 219 PKI (Indonesian Communist Party), 227-28 Poland, 187 police: in a military oligarchy, 57; in Latin America, 152; in Indo­ nesia, 186 Polisi Negara, see police, in Indo­ nesia political institutions, developmental determinants of nascent, 13-42. See also civil service; enfranchise­ ment; political parties; political systems political parties: in nascent nations, 14-15, 32, 38; in a military oli­ garchy, 56-57; in Latin America, 117-18, 168; in Indonesia, 195, 199-200, 202-5, 213-14, 218-19; In­

donesian IPKI, 209, 227-30; Indo­ nesian Masjumi Party, 212; Indo­ nesian Socialists, 212; Burmese AFPFL, 231-34«, 243-45, 248-49; Burmese Communists, 239; in Thailand, 261; in Middle East, 287; Neo-Destour Party in Tu­ nisia, 297; in the Middle East, 302-3, 312-14; in Israel, 345, 35152, 355; in Sub-Saharan Africa, 380 political systems in underdeveloped countries: opposition in, 23, 34; personality factor in, 35-36; parlia­ ment and politicians, 37-38; en­ franchisement, 14; tradition and necessity impose differing, 42-44; gap between modern elite and masses determines types of, 60-67; need to study dynamics of, 69-73; in Latin America, 116-18, 128, 165-69. See also democracy, mon­ archy, oligarchy Portugal: and Latin America, 94; and Sub-Saharan Africa, 381-82 positivism: in Latin-American mili­ tary academies, 108-g Prestes column (Brazil), 132, 144 Pridi Phanomyong, 259-61, 263 Prim, Juan, 166 propaganda, see public opinion public opinion: failure of intellec­ tuals to guide, 20; rule of "urban mob" in oppositional mentality, 34n-35n; oppositional mentality stronger in new states, 34, 34η35η; in political structure of nascent states, 41-42; in oligarch­ ies, 51-52, 56-58; in Latin America, 161; in Thailand, 253 railroads, see communications Red Militia (Chile), 132 Rem0n, Josi Antonio, 138, 160 Reza Shah, 282 Rivera, Diego, 92 Roem Van Royen Agreement, 205 Rojas Pinilla, Gustavo, 91, 119, 12729, 134, 138-39, 147, 152-54, 15657. 159

INDEX Royal Netherlands Indies Army (KNIL), see Netherlands Royal West African Frontier Force, 369-70 Ruanda-Urundi, 363 Rufino Barrios, Justo, 111 rural areas: as objects of modern­ ization, 23-24. See also agriculture; economic progress RWAFF, see military, Sub-Saharan African Sadiq, Yssif, 314 Saleh, Chaerul, 202 Salvador, El, 108, 115, 132, 172-73, 176 Santa Anna, Antonio L0pez de, 99 Santa Cruz Lodge (Bolivia), 141 Santos, Eduardo: on Latin-American military, 153, 178η Sarit, Thanarat, 263-65, 275 Sastroamidjojo, Ali, 211 Saudi Arabia, 12, 277; military bu­ reaucracy, 292-95 scientific training: in Latin-Ameri­ can military academies, 107-8. See also technological innovation sectionalism, see parochialism secularization: in Latin-American caudillo era, 168. See also Catholic church self-government, see democracy Senegal, 12, 377-78, 383-84, 403; mili­ tary establishment, 390. See also Mali Federation Sharett, Moshe, 354 Shishakli, Adib, 296 Sierra Leone, 384; civil service, 64: military establishment, 371 Simatupang, T. B., 189, 207, 209 Simbolon, Maludin, 197, 211-12 Sino-Soviet Bloc: and new African states, 392-93. See also China, USSR Sjahrir, Soetan, 201-3 Sjarifuddin, Amir, 203-4 slave trade, 362 Smuts, Jan, 362 Social National Party (Syria), 313 social structure: kinship, territory

and community as determinants of nascent, 14-15; relation to edu­ cational structure, 18-23; r0'e °£ intellectual, 19-23; technical and executive intellectual sector, 2223; gap between town and coun­ try, 23-25; varying class views on economic development, 25-27, re­ lation to structure of authority, 28-29; acculturative role of mili­ tary, 80-84; in Afro-Asia, 12-13, 15-18; in Burma, 240-42; in Latin America, 96, ιοοη-ιη, 101, 105-6, 109-10, 112-14, 116-18, 132, 13449, 180; in the Middle East, 27881, 285-89, 303-7, 310, 312-15; in Pakistan, 298-99; in Syria, 296; in Thailand, 13η, 266-67 Socialist Party (Indonesia), 212 Somalia, 12, 383, 386, 394 Somoza Jr., Anastasio, 91, 159-60 Sosa Molina, Humberto, 160 Soudan, see Mali Southern Rhodesia, see Federation of Rhodesia and Nyasaland Southwest Africa (German), 363 sovereignty: as modernity require­ ment, 11 Spain, 170; and Latin America, 9395, 97, 140, 174-75; early 19thcentury military factions in, 16667 stratification, see social structure Stroessner, Alfredo, 91 Student Army (Indonesia), see Tentara Peladjar Subroto, Gatot, 187, 211 Sub-Saharan Africa, 6, 360; Belgian's legacy to Congo, 379-81; British West Africa, 368-72; colonial mili­ tary heritage, 360-68; economies in, 394-96; education by military, 396-98; external military depend­ ence relationships, 385-92; demili­ tarization proposals for, 404-5; nature of military role, 6, 39, 5354. 359"6°- 383-85. 398-403; PanAfricanism, 392-94, 403; Portu­ guese colonies, 381-82; racial prob-

INDEX Iems of military, 374-75; Sudan, 366-68. See also individual states Sudan, 7, 12, 40, 49, 52, 55, 60, 277, 282-83, 287, 297, 300, 309, 369, 372, 377, 380, 383; academic freedom, 58; civil service, 38, 64; military bureaucracy, 292-94; military's po­ litical role, 366-68, 372, 399, 401-2; multiple dependency relation­ ships, 387-88; political elite soli­ darity, 45; public opinion, 41-42 Sudirman, General, 191, 198, 202-3, 205, 209 Suez Canal, 323-24 suifrage, see enfranchisement Sugeng, Bambang, 191, 209-10 Suishin-tai, see Barisan Pelopor Sukarno, 20a, 205-8, 211, 214; re­ vives presidential form of govern­ ment, 213; reasons for political power, 217-19; uses repressive powers of military, 223; balances military and Communist Party, 229-30 Sulzberger, C. L., 155 Sumohardjo, Urip, 189, 209 Sumual, Ventje, 197 Suryadarma, Marshal, 189 Syria, 277, 282, 287, 297; military establishment, 292-94; political and military determinants of cur­ rent scene, 293-97; political par­ ties, 302-3 Tamils (Ceylon), 31 Tan Malaka, 205; program of, 199200; Persatuan Perdjuangan move­ ment in, 201-3; supports Sukarno, 213-14. See also Murba Party Tanganyika, 12, 44, 64, 363, 372-73 technological innovation: as incen­ tive to new intellectual class, 19, 22-23; inimical to traditionalism, 47; military imbued with need for, 76-78, 82; in Latin America, 111-12, 172-74; in the Middle East, 286. See also commercialization; economic progress; industrializa­ tion Tenentes (Brazil), 126

Tentara Keamanan Rakjat (Indo­ nesia), 193 Tentara Nasional Indonesia, 195 Tentara Peladjar (Indonesia), 192, 196 Thailand, 5, 85; historical determi­ nants of government organization, 253-56; military in pre-World War II constitutional period, 257-61; military in post-war period, 26165; nature and composition of military bureaucracy, 266-76; Sarit's coup, 264-65 Togo, Republic of, 363, 378, 384, 390, 394 totalitarianism: in Latin-American caudillo era, 168 Tour£, Sikou, 395 trade, see commercialization; eco­ nomic progress; industrialization trade unions, 287, 305 traditionalism: effect on national­ ism, 31-33; as deterrent to prog­ ress, 29-30, 45-52, 60-62; military accelerates trend against, 80-84; post-1930 Latin-America, 134-35. See also social structure transportation, see communications Trujillo, Rafael, 91, 159 Tshombe, Moise, 391 Tudeh Party (Iran), 314 Tunisia, 12, 38, 40, 49, 287; lacks large army, 39; possesses adequate political elite, 44; civil servants, 64; composition of military bu­ reaucracy, 282-83, 292-94; apoliti­ cal nature of military, 297; social structure, 305 Turkey, 54, 277, 281, 283; heritage of Ottoman Empire, 52-53; his­ torical position of military, 29193; military bureaucracy, 292-93, 295; political parties, 302 Ubico, Jorge, 160 Uganda, 372 Union of South Africa, 365, 374-75, 383 Union of Soviet Socialist-Republics: and Indonesia, 186; and Iran, 282;

INDEX and Middle East, 283, 310; and Sub-Saharan Africa, 388, 391-92 United Arab Republic, 12, 49, 52, 54-55, 60, 282-84, 287, 289, 297;

present military rule, 7; politicization of army, 32; public opinion, 42; constitutional opposition, 56; and Indonesia, 187; military budget, 283; military's social awareness, 285; composition of military bureaucracy, 292-94; po­ litical parties, 302-3; Nasser creates autonomous civilian institutions, 309; alleged communist conspir­ acy, 314; and Belgian Congo, 392 United Nations, 52, 337, 363 United States: and Southeast Asia, 87; and Western Hemisphere, 12829, 140, 162-63, '75> !76-77. 181;

and Indonesia, 187; and Middle East, 283; and Sudan, 388 U Nu, 239, 244, 248-49 Upper Volta, 12, 377 urban middle groups: in Latin America, 106, 116-18, 134-37, 140154; in Middle East, 47· 278-81, 302-7, 312-15

urbanization, 23-24; in Latin Amer­ ica, 105-6, 113-16. See also urban middle groups Uriburu, Josi F., 133, 169 Uruguay, 91-92, 118, 161; civil serv­ ice, 128; communications, 111; economy, 105, 112η; industrial­ ization, 114; military budget, 158; military personnel distribution, 176; military professionalism, 133; urban middle groups, 106, 117; urbanization, 115 USSR, see Union of Soviet Socialist Republics Utojo, Bambang, 210 Vargas, Getulio, 122, 138, 149, 151 Velasco Ibarra, Josi Maria, 139

Venezuela, 91-92, 119, 127-28, 13839; enfranchisement, 117; land re­ form, 147; industrial workers, 114, 121; military budget, 125, 158-59; military personnel distribution, 176; military professionalism, 162; nationalism, 123; revolutions, 132, 142-44; urban middle groups, 117, 134, 136-67, 151-52, 154; urbaniza­ tion, 115. See also Pirez Jiminez, Rojas Pinilla Viet-Nam, 12 Villa, Pancho, 114 Villaroel, Gualberto, 138, 156 War of the Pacific (1879-1884), 108 Warouw, J., 212 Weber, Max, 99 Weizmann, Chaim, 324-26 West Irian, 192, 226-27, 2S0 White Guard (Chile), 132 workers, industrial·, in general, 25; in Latin America, 106, 113-14, 116-18, 120-21, 124. See also social structure World Zionist Organization, see Zionist Movement Yamin, Mohammed, 202 Yemen, 277, 283, 292-94 Za'im Huzni, 296 Zapata, Emiliano, 114 Zionist Movement: historical mys­ tique of militancy in, 318-26; con­ solidation of FFI., Irgun, and Hagana paramilitary groups, 32543; views on diplomatic uses of a Jewish army, 321-26; WeizmannJabotinsky split, 326; split between Revisionists and Histadru t, 329; organization of the Hagana, 330; Irgun Tz'va'i LeUmi, 330-35; FFI (Stern Group), 331-33. See also Israel, Palestine

O T H E R R A N D BOOKS I N T H E SOCIAL SCIENCES

Brodie, Bernard. STRATEGY IN THE MISSILE AGE. Princeton Univer­ sity Press, Princeton, New Jersey. September 1959.* Davison, W. Phillips. THE BERLIN BLOCKADE: A STUDY IN COLD WAR POLITICS. Princeton University Press, Princeton, New Jersey. April 1958. Dinerstein, H. S., and Leon Gou^. TWO STUDIES IN SOVIET CON­ TROLS: COMMUNISM AND THE RUSSIAN PEASANT; MOSCOW IN CRISIS. The Free Press, Glencoe, Illinois. February 1955. Dinerstein, H. S. WAR AND THE SOVIET UNION: NUCLEAR WEAPONS AND THE REVOLUTION IN SOVIET MILITARY AND POLITICAL THINKING. Frederick A. Praeger, Inc., New York. April 1959·*

Fainsod, Merle. SMOLENSK UNDER SOVIET RULE. Harvard University Press, Cambridge, Massachusetts. September 1958. Garthoff, Raymond L. SOVIET MILITARY DOCTRINE. The Free Press, Glencoe, Illinois. May 1953. George, Alexander L. PROPAGANDA ANALYSIS: A STUDY OF IN­ FERENCES MADE FROM NAZI PROPAGANDA IN WORLD WAR II. Row, Peterson and Company, Evanston, Illinois. February 1959. Goldhamer, Herbert, and Andrew W. Marshall. PSYCHOSIS AND CIVI­ LIZATION. The Free Press, Glencoe, Illinois. June 1953. Gouri, Leon. CIVIL DEFENSE IN THE SOVIET UNION. University of California Press, Los Angeles, California. January 1962.* Goure, Leon. THE SIEGE OF LENINGRAD. Stanford University Press, Stanford, California. June 1962.* Halpern, Manfred. THE POLITICS OF SOCIAL CHANGE IN THE MIDDLE EAST AND NORTH AFRICA. Princeton University Press, Princeton, New Jersey. October 1963.* Horelick, Arnold L., and Myron Rush. STRATEGIC POWER AND SOVIET FOREIGN POLICY. University of Chicago Press, Chicago, Illi­ nois. April 1966. Hsieh, Alice Langley. COMMUNIST CHINA'S STRATEGY IN THE NUCLEAR ERA. Prentice-Hall, Inc., Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey. March 1962.* Janis, Irving L. AIR WAR AND EMOTIONAL STRESS: PSYCHOLOG­ ICAL STUDIES OF BOMBING AND CIVILIAN DEFENSE. McGrawHill Book Company, Inc., New York. June 1951. Johnstone, William C. BURMA'S FOREIGN POLICY: A STUDY IN NEUTRALISM. Harvard University Press, Cambridge, Massachusetts. March 1963. Kecskemeti, P^ul. STRATEGIC SURRENDER: THE POLITICS OF VICTORY AND DEFEAT. Stanford University Press, Stanford, California, April 1958.*

Kecskemeti, Paul. THE UNEXPECTED REVOLUTION. Stanford Uni­ versity Press, Stanford, California. October 1961. Leites, Nathan. THE OPERATIONAL CODE OF THE POLITBURO. McGraw-Hill Book Company, Inc., New York. February 1951. Leites, Nathan. A STUDY OF BOLSHEVISM. The Free Press, Glencoe, Illinois. December 1953. Leites, Nathan, and Elsa Bernaut. RITUAL OF LIQUIDATION: THE CASE OF THE MOSCOW TRIALS. The Free Press, Glencoe, Illinois. October 1954. Leites, Nathan. ON THE GAME OF POLITICS IN FRANCE. Stanford University Press, Stanford, California. April 1959. Mead, Margaret. SOVIET ATTITUDES TOWARD AUTHORITY: AN INTERDISCIPLINARY APPROACH TO PROBLEMS OF SOVIET CHARACTER. McGraw-Hill Book Company, Inc., New York. October '95 1 -

Melnik, Constantin, and Nathan Leites. THE HOUSE WITHOUT WIN­ DOWS: FRANCE SELECTS A PRESIDENT. Row, Peterson and Com­ pany, Evanston, Illinois. June 1958. Rush, Myron. THE RISE OF KHRUSHCHEV. Public Affairs Press, Wash­ ington, D.C. January 1958. Rush, Myron. POLITICAL SUCCESSION IN THE USSR. Columbia University Press, New York. February 1965. Selznick, Philip. THE ORGANIZATIONAL WEAPON: A STUDY OF BOLSHEVIK STRATEGY AND TACTICS. McGraw-Hill Book Com­ pany, Inc., New York. February 1952. Smith, Bruce Lannes, and Chitra M. Smith. INTERNATIONAL COM­ MUNICATION AND POLITICAL OPINION: A GUIDE TO THE LITERATURE. Princeton University Press, Princeton, New Jersey. December 1956. Sokolovskii, V. D. (ed.) SOVIET MILITARY STRATEGY. Prentice-Hall, Inc., Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey. April 1963. Speier, Hans. GERMAN REARMAMENT AND ATOMIC WAR: THE VIEWS OF GERMAN MILITARY AND POLITICAL LEADERS. Row, Peterson and Company, Evanston, Illinois. July 1957. Speier, Hans, and W. Phillips Davison (eds.). WEST GERMAN LEADER­ SHIP AND FOREIGN POLICY. Row, Peterson and Company, Evanston, Illinois. October 1957. Speier, Hans. DIVIDED BERLIN: THE ANATOMY OF SOVIET POLITr ICAL BLACKMAIL. Frederick A. Praeger, Inc., New York. October 1961. Tanham, G. K. COMMUNIST REVOLUTIONARY WARFARE: THE VIETMINH IN INDOCHINA. Frederick A. Praeger, Inc., New York. November 1961. Trager, Frank N. (ed.). MARXISM IN SOUTHEAST ASIA: A STUDY OF FOUR COUNTRIES. Stanford University Press, Stanford, California. December 1959. Whiting, Allen S. CHINA CROSSES THE YALU: THE DECISION TO ENTER THE KOREAN WAR. The Macmillan Company, New York. November i960. Wolfe, Thomas W. SOVIET STRATEGY AT THE CROSSROADS. Har­ vard University Press, Cambridge, Massachusetts. November 1964. * Also available in paperback.