Revolutionary romanticism is misleading

Even Achille Mbembe, the Afripolitan intellectual, has fallen for linking political determination to the exercise of violence. His book “Sortir de la longue nuit” assesses the state of contemporary African societies and their relation to the former colonial powers in Europe. In it, he states that he is particularly disappointed in the failure of armed independence movements to bring about democracy and broad-based prosperity.

The truth, however, is that extended armed struggle normally makes the transition to democracy unlikely and difficult. Henning Melber recently made this case in regard to Southern Africa. I myself believe that one reason that democracy is more deeply entrenched in the Economic Community of West African States than in the continents’ other regional organisations is linked to the fact that most of its members achieved independence through negotiations than armed struggle. I assessed this matter in a previous blogpost. 

Mao Zedong famously stated that power comes from the barrel of the gun. The philosopher Hannah Arendt convincingly argued that this notion is wrong. Real power stems from the legitimacy a ruler enjoys in the eyes of the people. If people find the government legitimate, they are likely to adhere to its rule. If they are only kept in check by guns, however, their compliance evaporates the moment the threat of violence disappears or is merely reduced.

Reasonable regulations are more likely to be accepted than arbitrary orders. Accordingly, rules that result from public debate and democratic deliberation are more powerful than the edicts of dictators. This should not be hard to understand.

Nonetheless, revolutionary romanticism is hard to keep in check. Cuba is an example. Poverty is entrenched, and the Communist regime has been denying its people basic civil rights for six decades. It is true that it has taken care of primary education and health care, but the overall track record is poor. People have kept fleeing from the island ever since Fidel Castro claimed power in 1959. Many people still celebrate the country as an alternative to US hegemony and its market-based ideology.

In truth, another country in the region has a far better track record. Costa Rican villages have good schools and decent health-care centres. People do not flee from it, they migrate there. The country has been run by elected presidents for decades. It does not have an army, however. The army was abolished after a devastating civil war in 1949. The victors wisely did not cling to power by military means, but introduced multi-party democracy. Ever since, power was transferred regularly after presidential elections, and incremental reforms have ensured that Costa Rican’s fundamental rights are ensured and their basic needs are taken care of. 

Inequality in Costa Rica is much less pronounced than in other Latin American countries, and the elite’s grip on the nation is smaller. Accordingly, the sense of frustration is not as strong either. Angry people often fall for aggressive symbolism, so Fidel and Che catch the imagination. But that does not mean that violent revolution is more effective than peaceful social change. In reality, life in Costa Rica is better and has been better for decades than in Cuba. The migration patterns show that the people most directly concerned understand this perfectly well.