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by Noam Chomsky

11/97
Market Democracy in
a Neoliberal Order: Doctrines and Reality
Davie Lecture,
University of Cape Town, May 1997
I have been asked to
speak on some aspect of academic or human freedom, an invitation that
offers many choices. I will keep to some simple ones.
Freedom without
opportunity is a devil's gift, and the refusal to provide such
opportunities is criminal. The fate of the more vulnerable offers a sharp
measure of the distance from here to something that might be called
``civilization.'' While I am speaking, 1000 children will die from easily
preventable disease, and almost twice that many women will die or suffer
serious disability in pregnancy or childbirth for lack of simple remedies
and care.[1] UNICEF estimates that to overcome such tragedies, and to
ensure universal access to basic social services, would require a quarter
of the annual military expenditures of the ``developing countries,'' about
10% of U.S. military spending. It is against the background of such
realities as these that any serious discussion of human freedom should
proceed.
It is widely held
that the cure for such profound social maladies is within reach. The hopes
have foundation. The past few years have seen the fall of brutal
tyrannies, the growth of scientific understanding that offers great
promise, and many other reasons to look forward to a brighter future. The
discourse of the privileged is marked by confidence and triumphalism: the
way forward is known, and there is no other. The basic theme, articulated
with force and clarity, is that ``America's victory in the Cold War was a
victory for a set of political and economic principles: democracy and the
free market.'' These principles are ``the wave of the future - a future
for which America is both the gatekeeper and the model.'' I am quoting the
chief political commentator of the New York Times, but the picture is
conventional, widely repeated throughout much of the world, and accepted
as generally accurate even by critics. It was also enunciated as the
``Clinton Doctrine,'' which declared that our new mission is to
``consolidate the victory of democracy and open markets'' that had just
been won. There remains a range of disagreement: at one extreme ``Wilsonian
idealists'' urge continued dedication to the traditional mission of
benevolence; at the other, ``realists'' counter that we may lack the means
to conduct these crusades of ``global meliorism,'' and should not neglect
our own interests in the service of others.[2] Within this range lies the
path to a better world.
Reality seems to me
rather different. The current spectrum of public policy debate has as
little relevance to actual policy as its numerous antecedents: neither the
United States nor any other power has been guided by ``global meliorism.''
Democracy is under attack worldwide, including the leading industrial
countries; at least, democracy in a meaningful sense of the term,
involving opportunities for people to manage their own collective and
individual affairs. Something similar is true of markets. The assaults on
democracy and markets are furthermore related. Their roots lie in the
power of corporate entities that are totalitarian in internal structure,
increasingly interlinked and reliant on powerful states, and largely
unaccountable to the public. Their immense power is growing as a result of
social policy that is globalizing the structural model of the third world,
with sectors of enormous wealth and privilege alongside an increase in
``the proportion of those who will labor under all the hardships of life,
and secretly sigh for a more equal distribution of its blessings,'' as the
leading framer of American democracy, James Madison, predicted 200 years
ago.[3] These policy choices are most evident in the Anglo-American
societies, but extend worldwide. They cannot be attributed to what ``the
free market has decided, in its infinite but mysterious wisdom,'' ``the
implacable sweep of `the market revolution','' ``Reaganesque rugged
individualism,'' or a ``new orthodoxy'' that ``gives the market full
sway.''[4] The quotes are liberal-to-left, in some cases quite critical.
The analysis is similar across the rest of the spectrum, but generally
euphoric. The reality, on the contrary, is that state intervention plays a
decisive role, as in the past, and the basic outlines of policy are hardly
novel. Current versions reflect ``capital's clear subjugation of labor''
for more than 15 years, in the words of the business press,[5] which often
frankly articulates the perceptions of a highly class-conscious business
community, dedicated to class war.
If these perceptions
are valid, then the path to a world that is more just and more free lies
well outside the range set forth by privilege and power. I cannot hope to
establish such conclusions here, but only to suggest that they are
credible enough to consider with care. And to suggest further that
prevailing doctrines could hardly survive were it not for their
contribution to ``regimenting the public mind every bit as much as an army
regiments the bodies of its soldiers,'' to borrow the dictum of the
respected Roosevelt-Kennedy liberal Edward Bernays in his classic manual
for the Public Relations industry, of which he was one of the founders and
leading figures.
Bernays was drawing
from his experience in Woodrow Wilson's State propaganda agency, the
Committee on Public Information. ``It was, of course, the astounding
success of propaganda during the war that opened the eyes of the
intelligent few in all departments of life to the possibilities of
regimenting the public mind,'' he wrote. His goal was to adapt these
experiences to the needs of the ``intelligent minorities,'' primarily
business leaders, whose task is ``The conscious and intelligent
manipulation of the organized habits and opinions of the masses.'' Such
``engineering of consent'' is the very ``essence of the democratic
process,'' Bernays wrote shortly before he was honored for his
contributions by the American Psychological Association in 1949. The
importance of ``controlling the public mind'' has been recognized with
increasing clarity as popular struggles succeeded in extending the
modalities of democracy, thus giving rise to what liberal elites call
``the crisis of democracy'' as when normally passive and apathetic
populations become organized and seek to enter the political arena to
pursue their interests and demands, threatening stability and order. As
Bernays explained the problem, with ``universal suffrage and universal
schooling,...at last even the bourgeoisie stood in fear of the common
people. For the masses promised to become king,'' a tendency fortunately
reversed - so it has been hoped - as new methods ``to mold the mind of the
masses'' were devised and implemented.[6]
Quite strikingly, in
both of the world's leading democracies there was a growing awareness of
the need to ``apply the lessons'' of the highly successful propaganda
systems of World War I ``to the organization of political warfare,'' as
the chairman of the British Conservative Party put the matter 70 years
ago. Wilsonian liberals in the U.S. drew the same conclusions in the same
years, including public intellectuals and prominent figures in the
developing profession of Political Science. In another corner of Western
civilization, Adolf Hitler vowed that next time Germany would not be
defeated in the propaganda war, and also devised his own ways to apply the
lessons of Anglo-American propaganda for political warfare at home.[7]
Meanwhile the
business world warned of ``the hazard facing industrialists'' in ``the
newly realized political power of the masses,'' and the need to wage and
win ``the everlasting battle for the minds of men'' and ``indoctrinate
citizens with the capitalist story'' until ``they are able to play back
the story with remarkable fidelity''; and so on, in an impressive flow,
accompanied by even more impressive efforts, and surely one of the central
themes of modern history.[8]
To discover the true
meaning of the ``political and economic principles'' that are declared to
be ``the wave of the future,'' it is of course necessary to go beyond
rhetorical flourishes and public pronouncements and to investigate actual
practice and the internal documentary record. Close examination of
particular cases is the most rewarding path, but these must be chosen
carefully to give a fair picture. There are some natural guidelines. One
reasonable approach is to take the examples chosen by the proponents of
the doctrines themselves, as their ``strongest case.'' Another is to
investigate the record where influence is greatest and interference least,
so that we see the operative principles in their purest form. If we want
to determine what the Kremlin meant by ``democracy'' and ``human rights,''
we will pay little heed to Pravda's solemn denunciations of racism in the
United States or state terror in its client regimes, even less to
protestation of noble motives. Far more instructive is the state of
affairs in the ``people's democracies'' of Eastern Europe. The point is
elementary, and applies to the self-designated ``gatekeeper and model'' as
well. Latin America is the obvious testing ground, particularly the
Central America-Caribbean region. Here Washington has faced few external
challenges for almost a century, so the guiding principles of policy, and
of today's neoliberal ``Washington consensus,'' are revealed most clearly
when we examine the state of the region, and how that came about.
It is of some
interest that the exercise is rarely undertaken, and if proposed,
castigated as extremist or worse. I leave it as an ``exercise for the
reader,'' merely noting that the record teaches useful lessons about the
political and economic principles that are to be ``the wave of the
future.''
Washington's
``crusade for democracy,'' as it is called, was waged with particular
fervor during the Reagan years, with Latin America the chosen terrain. The
results are commonly offered as a prime illustration of how the U.S.
became ``the inspiration for the triumph of democracy in our time,'' to
quote the editors of the leading intellectual journal of American
liberalism.[9] The most recent scholarly study of democracy describes
``the revival of democracy in Latin America'' as ``impressive'' but not
unproblematic; the ``barriers to implementation'' remain ``formidable,''
but can perhaps be overcome through closer integration with the United
States.[10] The author, Sanford Lakoff, singles out the ``historic North
American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA)'' as a potential instrument of
democratization. In the region of traditional U.S. influence, he writes,
the countries are moving towards democracy, having ``survived military
intervention'' and ``vicious civil war.''
Let us begin by
looking more closely at these recent cases, the natural ones given
overwhelming U.S. influence, and the ones regularly selected to illustrate
the achievements and promise of ``America's mission.''
The primary
``barriers to implementation'' of democracy, Lakoff suggests, are the
``vested interests'' that seek to protect ``domestic markets'' - that is,
to prevent foreign (mainly U.S.) corporations from gaining even greater
control over the society. We are to understand, then, that democracy is
enhanced as significant decision-making shifts even more into the hands of
unaccountable private tyrannies, mostly foreign-based. Meanwhile the
public arena is to shrink still further as the state is ``minimized'' in
accordance with the neoliberal ``political and economic principles'' that
have emerged triumphant. A study of the World Bank points out that the new
orthodoxy represents ``a dramatic shift away from a pluralist,
participatory ideal of politics and towards an authoritarian and
technocratic ideal...,'' one that is very much in accord with leading
elements of twentieth century liberal and progressive thought, and in
another variant, the Leninist model; the two are more similar than often
recognized.[11]
Thinking through the
tacit reasoning, we gain some useful insight into the concepts of
democracy and markets, in the operative sense.
Lakoff does not look
into the ``revival of democracy'' in Latin America, but he does cite a
scholarly source that includes a contribution on Washington's crusade in
the 1980s. The author is Thomas Carothers, who combines scholarship with
an ``insider's perspective,'' having worked on ``democracy enhancement''
programs in Reagan's State Department.[12] Carothers regards Washington's
``impulse to promote democracy'' as ``sincere,'' but largely a failure.
Furthermore, the failure was systematic: where Washington's influence was
least, in South America, there was real progress towards democracy, which
the Reagan Administration generally opposed, later taking credit for it
when the process proved irresistible. Where Washington's influence was
greatest, progress was least, and where it occurred, the U.S. role was
marginal or negative. His general conclusion is that the U.S. sought to
maintain ``the basic order of...quite undemocratic societies'' and to
avoid ``populist-based change,'' ``inevitably [seeking] only limited,
top-down forms of democratic change that did not risk upsetting the
traditional structures of power with which the United States has long been
allied.''
The last phrase
requires a gloss. The term ``United States'' is conventionally used to
refer to structures of power within the United States; the ``national
interest'' is the interest of these groups, which correlates only weakly
with interests of the general population. So the conclusion is that
Washington sought top-down forms of democracy that did not upset
traditional structures of power with which the structures of power in the
United States have long been allied. Not a very surprising fact, or much
of a historical novelty.
To appreciate the
significance of the fact, it is necessary to examine more closely the
nature of parliamentary democracies. The United States is the most
important case, not only because of its power, but because of its stable
and long-standing democratic institutions. Furthermore, the United States
was about as close to a model as one can find. America can be ``As happy
as she pleases,'' Thomas Paine remarked in 1776: ``she has a blank sheet
to write upon.''[13] The indigenous societies were largely eliminated.
There is little residue of earlier European structures, one reason for the
relative weakness of the social contract and of support systems, which
often had their roots in pre-capitalist institutions. And to an unusual
extent, the socio-political order was consciously designed. In studying
history, one cannot construct experiments, but the U.S. is as close to the
``ideal case'' of state capitalist democracy as can be found.
Furthermore, the
leading Framer of the constitutional system was an astute and lucid
political thinker, James Madison, whose views largely prevailed. In the
debates on the Constitution, Madison pointed out that in England, if
elections ``were open to all classes of people, the property of landed
proprietors would be insecure. An agrarian law would soon take place,''
giving land to the landless. The system that he and his associates were
designing must prevent such injustice, he urged, and ``secure the
permanent interests of the country,'' which are property rights. It is the
responsibility of government, Madison declared, ``to protect the minority
of the opulent against the majority.'' To achieve this goal, political
power must rest in the hands of ``the wealth of the nation,'' men who
would ``sympathize sufficiently'' with property rights and ``be safe
depositories of power over them,'' while the rest are marginalized and
fragmented, offered only limited public participation in the political
arena. Among Madisonian scholars, there is a consensus that ``The
Constitution was intrinsically an aristocratic document designed to check
the democratic tendencies of the period,'' delivering power to a ``better
sort'' of people and excluding ``those who were not rich, well born, or
prominent from exercising political power.''[14]
These conclusions
are often qualified by the observation that Madison, and the
constitutional system generally, sought to balance the rights of persons
against the rights of property. But the formulation is misleading.
Property has no rights. In both principle and practice, the phrase
``rights of property'' means the right to property, typically material
property, a personal right which must be privileged above all others, and
is crucially different from others in that one person's possession of such
rights deprives another of them. When the facts are stated clearly, we can
appreciate the force of the doctrine that ``the people who own the country
ought to govern it,'' ``one of [the] favorite maxims'' of Madison's
influential colleague John Jay, his biographer observes.[15]
One may argue, as
some historians do, that these principles lost their force as the national
territory was conquered and settled, the native population driven out or
exterminated. Whatever one's assessment of those years, by the late 19th
century the founding doctrines took on a new and much more oppressive
form. When Madison spoke of ``rights of persons,'' he meant humans. But
the growth of the industrial economy, and the rise of corporate forms of
economic enterprise, led to a completely new meaning of the term. In a
current official document, ```Person' is broadly defined to include any
individual, branch, partnership, associated group, association, estate,
trust, corporation or other organization (whether or not organized under
the laws of any State), or any government entity,''[16] a concept that
doubtless would have shocked Madison and others with intellectual roots in
the Enlightenment and classical liberalism - pre-capitalist, and
anti-capitalist in spirit.
These radical
changes in the conception of human rights and democracy were not
introduced primarily by legislation, but by judicial decisions and
intellectual commentary. Corporations, which previously had been
considered artificial entities with no rights, were accorded all the
rights of persons, and far more, since they are ``immortal persons,'' and
``persons'' of extraordinary wealth and power. Furthermore, they were no
longer bound to the specific purposes designated by State charter, but
could act as they chose, with few constraints. The intellectual
backgrounds for granting such extraordinary rights to ``collectivist legal
entities'' lie in neo-Hegelian doctrines that also underlie Bolshevism and
fascism: the idea that organic entities have rights over and above those
of persons. Conservative legal scholars bitterly opposed these
innovations, recognizing that they undermine the traditional idea that
rights inhere in individuals, and undermine market principles as well.[17]
But the new forms of authoritarian rule were institutionalized, and along
with them, the legitimation of wage labor, which was considered hardly
better than slavery in mainstream American thought through much of the
19th century, not only by the rising labor movement but also by such
figures as Abraham Lincoln, the Republican Party, and the establishment
media.[18]
These are topics
with enormous implications for understanding the nature of market
democracy. Again, I can only mention them here. The material and
ideological outcome helps explain the understanding that ``democracy''
abroad must reflect the model sought at home: ``top-down'' forms of
control, with the public kept to a ``spectator'' role, not participating
in the arena of decision-making, which must exclude these ``ignorant and
meddlesome outsiders,'' according to the mainstream of modern democratic
theory. I happen to be quoting the essays on democracy by Walter Lippmann,
one of the most respected American public intellectuals and journalists of
the century.[19] But the general ideas are standard and have solid roots
in the constitutional tradition, radically modified, however, in the new
era of collectivist legal entities.
Returning to the
``victory of democracy'' under U.S. guidance, neither Lakoff nor Carothers
asks how Washington maintained the traditional power structure of highly
undemocratic societies. Their topic is not the terrorist wars that left
tens of thousands of tortured and mutilated corpses, millions of refugees,
and devastation perhaps beyond recovery - in large measure wars against
the Church, which became an enemy when it adopted ``the preferential
option for the poor,'' trying to help suffering people to attain some
measure of justice and democratic rights. It is more than symbolic that
the terrible decade of the 1980s opened with the murder of an Archbishop
who had become ``a voice for the voiceless,'' and closed with the
assassination of six leading Jesuit intellectuals who had chosen the same
path, in each case by terrorist forces armed and trained by the victors of
the ``crusade for democracy.'' One should take careful note of the fact
that the leading Central American dissident intellectuals were doubly
assassinated: both murdered, and silenced. Their words, indeed their very
existence, are scarcely known in the United States, unlike dissidents in
enemy states, who are greatly honored and admired; another cultural
universal, I presume.
Such matters do not
enter history as recounted by the victors. In Lakoff's study, which is not
untypical in this regard, what survives are references to ``military
intervention'' and ``civil wars,'' with no external factor identified.
These matters will not so quickly be put aside, however, by those who seek
a better grasp of the principles that are to shape the future, if the
structures of power have their way.
Particularly
revealing is Lakoff's description of Nicaragua, again standard: ``a civil
war was ended following a democratic election, and a difficult effort is
underway to create a more prosperous and self-governing society.'' In the
real world, the superpower attacking Nicaragua escalated its assault after
the country's first democratic election: the election of 1984, closely
monitored and recognized as legitimate by the professional association of
Latin American scholars (LASA), Irish and British Parliamentary
delegations, and others, including a hostile Dutch government delegation
that was remarkably supportive of Reaganite atrocities, as well as the
leading figure of Central American democracy, Jos Figueres of Costa Rica,
also critical observer, though regarding the elections as legitimate in
this ``invaded country,'' and calling on Washington to allow the
Sandinistas ``to finish what they started in peace; they deserve it.'' The
U.S. strongly opposed the holding of the elections and sought to undermine
them, concerned that democratic elections might interfere with its
terrorist war. But that concern was put to rest by the good behavior of
the doctrinal system, which barred the reports with remarkable efficiency,
reflexively adopting the state propaganda line that the elections were
meaningless fraud.[20]
Overlooked as well
is the fact that as the next election approached on schedule,[21]
Washington left no doubt that unless the results came out the right way,
Nicaraguans would continue to endure the illegal economic warfare and
``unlawful use of force'' that the World Court had condemned and ordered
terminated, of course in vain. This time the outcome was acceptable, and
hailed in the U.S. with an outburst of exuberance that is highly
informative.[22]
At the outer limits
of critical independence, columnist Anthony Lewis of the New York Times
was overcome with admiration for Washington's ``experiment in peace and
democracy,'' which showed that ``we live in a romantic age.'' The
experimental methods were no secret. Thus Time magazine, joining in the
celebration as ``democracy burst forth'' in Nicaragua, outlined them
frankly: to ``wreck the economy and prosecute a long and deadly proxy war
until the exhausted natives overthrow the unwanted government
themselves,'' with a cost to us that is ``minimal,'' leaving the victim
``with wrecked bridges, sabotaged power stations, and ruined farms,'' and
providing Washington's candidate with ``a winning issue,'' ending the
``impoverishment of the people of Nicaragua,'' not to speak of the
continuing terror, better left unmentiond. To be sure, the cost to them
was hardly ``minimal'': Carothers notes that the toll ``in per capita
terms was significantly higher than the number of U.S. persons killed in
the U.S. Civil War and all the wars of the twentieth century
combined.''[23] The outcome was a ``Victory for U.S. Fair Play,'' a
headline in the Times exulted, leaving Americans ``United in Joy,'' in the
style of Albania and North Korea.
The methods of this
``romantic age,'' and the reaction to them in enlightened circles, tell us
more about the democratic principles that have emerged victorious. They
also shed some light on why it is such a ``difficult effort'' to ``create
a more prosperous and self-governing society'' in Nicaragua. It is true
that the effort is now underway, and is meeting with some success for a
privileged minority, while most of the population faces social and
economic disaster, all in the familiar pattern of Western
dependencies.[24] Note that it is precisely this example that led the
editors to laud themselves as ``the inspiration for the triumph of
democracy in our time,'' joining the enthusiastic chorus.
We learn more about
the victorious principles by recalling that these same representative
figures of liberal intellectual life had urged that Washington's wars must
be waged mercilessly, with military support for ``Latin-style
fascists,...regardless of how many are murdered,'' because ``there are
higher American priorities than Salvadoran human rights.'' Elaborating,
editor Michael Kinsley, who represented ``the left'' in mainstream
commentary and television debate, cautioned against unthinking criticism
of Washington's official policy of attacking undefended civilian targets.
Such international terrorist operations cause ``vast civilian suffering,''
he acknowledged, but they may be ``perfectly legitimate'' if
``cost-benefit analysis'' shows that ``the amount of blood and misery that
will be poured in'' yields ``democracy,'' as the world rulers define it.
Enlightened opinion insists that terror is not a value in itself, but must
meet the pragmatic criterion. Kinsley later observed that the desired ends
had been achieved: ``impoverishing the people of Nicaragua was precisely
the point of the contra war and the parallel policy of economic embargo
and veto of international development loans,'' which ``wreck[ed] the
economy'' and ``creat[ed] the economic disaster [that] was probably the
victorious opposition's best election issue.'' He then joined in welcoming
the ``triumph of democracy'' in the ``free election'' of 1990.[25]
Client states enjoy
similar privileges. Thus, commenting on yet another of Israel's attacks on
Lebanon, foreign editor H.D.S. Greenway of the Boston Globe, who had
graphically reported the first major invasion 15 years earlier, commented
that ``If shelling Lebanese villages, even at the cost of lives, and
driving civilian refugees north would secure Israel's border, weaken
Hezbollah, and promote peace, I would say go to it, as would many Arabs
and Israelis. But history has not been kind to Israeli adventures in
Lebanon. They have solved very little and have almost always caused more
problems.'' By the pragmatic criterion, then, the murder of many
civilians, expulsion of hundreds of thousand of refugees, and devastation
of southern Lebanon is a dubious proposition.[26]
It would not be too
hard, I presume, to find comparable examples here in the recent past.
Bear in mind that I
am keeping to the dissident sector of tolerable opinion, what is called
``the left,'' a fact that tells us more about the victorious principles
and the intellectual culture within which they find their place.
Also revealing was
the reaction to periodic Reagan Administration allegations about
Nicaraguan plans to obtain jet interceptors from the Soviet Union (the
U.S. having coerced its allies into refusing to sell them). Hawks demanded
that Nicaragua be bombed at once. Doves countered that the charges must
first be verified, but if they were, the U.S. would have to bomb
Nicaragua. Sane observers understood why Nicaragua might want jet
interceptors: to protect its territory from CIA overflights that were
supplying the U.S. proxy forces and providing them with up-to-the-minute
information so that they could follow the directive to attack undefended
``soft targets.'' The tacit assumption is that no country has a right to
defend civilians from U.S. attack. The doctrine, which reigned challenged,
is an interesting one. It might be illuminating to seek counterparts
elsewhere.
The pretext for
Washington's terrorist wars was self-defense, the standard official
justification for just about any monstrous act, even the Nazi Holocaust.
Indeed Ronald Reagan, finding ``that the policies and actions of the
Government of Nicaragua constitute an unusual and extraordinary threat to
the national security and foreign policy of the United States,'' declared
``a national emergency to deal with that threat,'' arousing no
ridicule.[27] Others react differently. In response to John F. Kennedy's
efforts to organize collective action against Cuba in 1961, a Mexican
diplomat explained that Mexico could not go along, because ``If we
publicly declare that Cuba is a threat to our security, forty million
Mexicans will die laughing.''[28] Enlightened opinion in the West takes a
more sober view of the extraordinary threat to national security. By
similar logic, the USSR had every right to attack Denmark, a far greater
threat to its security, and surely Poland and Hungary when they took steps
towards independence. The fact that such pleas can regularly be put forth
is again an interesting comment on the intellectual culture of the
victors, and another indication of what lies ahead.
The substance of the
Cold War pretexts is greatly illuminated by the case of Cuba, as are the
real operative principles. These have emerged with much clarity once again
in the past few weeks, with Washington's refusal to accept World Trade
Organization adjudication of a European Union challenge to its embargo,
which is unique in its severity, and had already been condemned as a
violation of international law by the Organization of American States and
repeatedly by the United Nations, with near unanimity, more recently
extended to severe penalties for third parties that disobey Washington's
edicts, yet another violation of international law and trade agreements.
The official response of the Clinton Administration, as reported by the
Newspaper of Record, is that ``Europe is challenging `three decades of
American Cuba policy that goes back to the Kennedy Administration,' and is
aimed entirely at forcing a change of government in Havana.''[29] The
Administration also declared that the W.T.O. ``has no competence to
proceed'' on an issue of American national security, and cannot ``force
the U.S. to change its laws.''
At the very same
moment, Washington and the media were lauding the W.T.O.
Telecommunications agreement as a ``new tool of foreign policy'' that
compels other countries to change their laws and practices in accord with
Washington's demands, incidentally handing over their communications
systems to mainly U.S. megacorporations in yet another serious blow
against democracy.[30] But the W.T.O. has no authority to compel the U.S.
to change its laws, just as the World Court has no authority to compel the
U.S. to terminate its international terrorism and illegal economic
warfare. Free trade and international law are like democracy: fine ideas,
but to be judged by outcome, not process.
The reasoning with
regard to the W.T.O. is reminiscent of the official U.S. grounds for
dismissing World Court adjudication of Nicaragua's charges. In both cases,
the U.S. rejected jurisdiction on the plausible assumption that rulings
would be against the U.S.; by simple logic, then, neither is a proper
forum. The State Department Legal Adviser explained that when the U.S.
accepted World Court jurisdiction in the 1940s, most members of the U.N.
``were aligned with the United States and shared its views regarding world
order.'' But now ``A great many of these cannot be counted on to share our
view of the original constitutional conception of the U.N. Charter,'' and
``This same majority often opposes the United States on important
international questions.'' Lacking a guarantee that it will get its way,
the U.S. must now ``reserve to ourselves the power to determine whether
the Court has jurisdiction over us in a particular case,'' on the
principle that ``the United States does not accept compulsory jurisdiction
over any dispute involving matters essentially within the domestic
jurisdiction of the United States, as determined by the United States.''
The ``domestic matters'' in question were the U.S. attack against
Nicaragua.[31]
The media, along
with intellectual opinion generally, agreed that the Court discredited
itself by ruling against the United States. The crucial parts of its
decision were not reported, including its determination that all U.S. aid
to the contras is military and not humanitarian; it remained
``humanitarian aid'' across the spectrum of respectable opinion until
Washington's terror, economic warfare, and subversion of diplomacy brought
about the ``Victory for U.S. Fair Play.''[32]
Returning to the
W.T.O. case, we need not tarry on the allegation that the existence of the
United States is at stake in the strangulation of the Cuban economy. More
interesting is the thesis that the U.S. has every right to overthrow
another government, in this case, by aggression, large-scale terror over
many years, and economic strangulation. Accordingly, international law and
trade agreements are irrelevant. The fundamental principles of world order
that have emerged victorious again resound, loud and clear.
The Clinton
Administration declarations passed without challenge, though they were
criticized on narrower grounds by historian Arthur Schlesinger. Writing
``as one involved in the Kennedy Administration's Cuban policy,''
Schlesinger maintained that the Clinton Administration had misunderstood
Kennedy's policies. The concern had been Cuba's ``troublemaking in the
hemisphere'' and ``the Soviet connection,'' Schlesinger explained.[33] But
these are now behind us, so the Clinton policies are an anachronism,
though otherwise unobjectionable, so we are to conclude.
Schlesinger did not
explain the meaning of the phrases ``troublemaking in the hemisphere'' and
``the Soviet connection,'' but he has elsewhere, in secret. Reporting to
incoming President Kennedy on the conclusions of a Latin American Mission
in early 1961, Schlesinger spelled out the problem of Castro's
``troublemaking'' - what the Clinton Administration calls Cuba's effort
``to destabilize large parts of Latin America:'' it is ``the spread of the
Castro idea of taking matters into one's own hands,'' a serious problem,
Schlesinger added, when ``The distribution of land and other forms of
national wealth greatly favors the propertied classes...[and] The poor and
underprivileged, stimulated by the example of the Cuban revolution, are
now demanding opportunities for a decent living.'' Schlesinger also
explained the threat of the ``Soviet connection'': ``Meanwhile, the Soviet
Union hovers in the wings, flourishing large development loans and
presenting itself as the model for achieving modernization in a single
generation.''[34] The ``Soviet connection'' was perceived in a similar
light far more broadly in Washington and London, from the origins of the
Cold War 80 years ago.
With these (secret)
explanations of Castro's ``destabilization'' and ``troublemaking in the
hemisphere,'' and of the ``Soviet connection,'' we come closer to an
understanding of the reality of the Cold War, another important topic I
will have to put aside. It should come as no surprise that basic policies
persist with the Cold War a fading memory, just as they were carried out
before the Bolshevik revolution: the brutal and destructive invasion of
Haiti and the Dominican Republic, to mention just one illustration of
``global meliorism'' under the banner of ``Wilsonian idealism.''
It should be added
that the policy of overthrowing the government of Cuba antedates the
Kennedy Administration. Castro took power in January 1959. By June, the
Eisenhower Administration had determined that his government must be
overthrown. Terrorist attacks from U.S. bases began shortly after. The
formal decision to overthrow Castro in favor of a regime ``more devoted to
the true interests of the Cuban people and more acceptable to the U.S.''
was taken in secret in March 1960, with the addendum that the operation
must be carried out ``in such a manner as to avoid any appearance of U.S.
intervention,'' because of the expected reaction in Latin America and the
need to ease the burden on doctrinal managers at home. At the time, the
``Soviet connection'' and ``troublemaking in the hemisphere'' were nil,
apart from the Schlesingerian version. The CIA estimated that the Castro
government enjoyed popular support (the Clinton Administration has similar
evidence today). The Kennedy Administration also recognized that its
efforts violated international law and the Charters of the UN and OAS, but
such issues were dismissed without discussion, the declassified record
reveals.[35]
Let us move on to
NAFTA, the ``historic'' agreement that may help to advance U.S.-style
democracy in Mexico, Lakoff suggests. A closer look is again informative.
The NAFTA agreement was rammed through Congress over strenuous popular
opposition but with overwhelming support from the business world and the
media, which were full of joyous promises of benefits for all concerned,
also confidently predicted by the U.S. International Trade Commission and
leading economists equipped with the most up-to-date models (which had
just failed miserably to predict the deleterious consequences of the
U.S.-Canada Free Trade Agreement, but were somehow going to work in this
case). Completely suppressed was the careful analysis by the Office of
Technology Assessment (the research bureau of Congress), which concluded
that the planned version of NAFTA would harm most of the population of
North America, proposing modifications that could render the agreement
beneficial beyond small circles of investment and finance. Still more
instructive was the suppression of the official position of the U.S. labor
movement, presented in a similar analysis. Meanwhile labor was bitterly
condemned for its ``backward, unenlightened'' perspective and ``crude
threatening tactics,'' motivated by ``fear of change and fear of
foreigners''; I am again sampling only from the far left of the spectrum,
in this case, Anthony Lewis. The charges were demonstrably false, but they
were the only word that reached the public in this inspiring exercise of
democracy. Further details are most illuminating, and reviewed in the
dissident literature at the time and since, but kept from the public eye,
and unlikely to enter approved history.[36]
By now, the tales
about the wonders of NAFTA have quietly been been shelved, as the facts
have been coming in. One hears no more about the hundreds of thousands of
new jobs and other great benefits in store for the people of the three
countries. These good tidings have been replaced by the ``distinctly
benign economic viewpoint'' - the ``experts' view'' - that NAFTA had no
significant effects. The Wall Street Journal reports that ``Administration
officials feel frustrated by their inability to convince voters that the
threat doesn't hurt them'' and that job loss is ``much less than predicted
by Ross Perot,'' who was allowed into mainstream discussion (unlike the
OTA, the Labor movement, economists who didn't echo the Party Line, and of
course dissident analysts) because his claims were sometimes extreme and
easily ridiculed. ```It's hard to fight the critics' by telling the truth
- that the trade pact `hasn't really done anything','' an administration
official observes sadly. Forgotten is what ``the truth'' was going to be
when the impressive exercise in democracy was roaring full steam
ahead.[37]
While the experts
have downgraded NAFTA to ``no significant effects,'' dispatching the
earlier ``experts' view'' to the memory hole, a less than ``distinctly
benign economic viewpoint'' comes into focus if the ``national interest''
is widened in scope to include the general population. Testifying before
the Senate Banking Committee in February 1997, Federal Reserve Board Chair
Alan Greenspan was highly optimistic about ``sustainable economic
expansion'' thanks to ``atypical restraint on compensation increases
[which] appears to be mainly the consequence of greater worker
insecurity'' - an obvious desideratum for a just society. The February
1997 Economic Report of the President, taking pride in the
Administration's achievements, refers more obliquely to ``changes in labor
market institutions and practices'' as a factor in the ``significant wage
restraint'' that bolsters the health of the economy.
One reason for these
benign changes is spelled out in a study commissioned by the NAFTA Labor
Secretariat ``on the effects of the sudden closing of the plant on the
principle of freedom of association and the right of workers to organize
in the three countries.'' The study was carried out under NAFTA rules in
response to a complaint by telecommunications workers on illegal labor
practices by Sprint. The complaint was upheld by the U.S. National Labor
Relations Board, which ordered trivial penalties after years of delay, the
standard procedure. The NAFTA study, by Cornell University Labor economist
Kate Bronfenbrenner, has been authorized for release by Canada and Mexico,
but not by the Clinton Administration. It reveals a significant impact of
NAFTA on strike-breaking. About half of union organizing efforts are
disrupted by employer threats to transfer production abroad; for example,
by placing signs reading ``Mexico Transfer Job'' in front of a plant where
there is an organizing drive. The threats are not idle: when such
organizing drives nevertheless succeed, employers close the plant in whole
or in part at triple the pre-NAFTA rate (about 15% of the time).
Plant-closing threats are almost twice as high in more mobile industries
(e.g., manufacturing vs. construction).
These and other
practices reported in the study are illegal, but that is a technicality,
on a par with violations of international law and trade agreements when
outcomes are unacceptable. The Reagan Administration had made it clear to
the business world that their illegal anti-union activities would not be
hampered by the criminal state, and successors have kept to this stand.
There has been a substantial effect on destruction of unions - or in more
polite words, ``changes in labor market institutions and practices'' that
contribute to ``significant wage restraint'' within an economic model
offered with great pride to a backward world that has not yet grasped the
victorious principles that are to lead the way to freedom and justice.[38]
What was reported
all along outside the mainstream about the goals of NAFTA is also now
quietly conceded: the real goal was to ``lock Mexico in'' to the
``reforms'' that had made it an ``economic miracle,'' in the technical
sense of this term: a ``miracle'' for U.S. investors and the Mexican rich,
while the population sank into misery. The Clinton Administration ``forgot
that the underlying purpose of NAFTA was not to promote trade but to
cement Mexico's economic reforms,'' Newsweek correspondent Marc Levinson
loftily declares, failing only to add that the contrary was loudly
proclaimed to ensure the passage of NAFTA while critics who pointed out
this ``underlying purpose'' were efficiently excluded from the free market
of ideas by its owners. Perhaps some day the reasons will be conceded too.
``Locking Mexico in'' to these reforms, it was hoped, would deflect the
danger detected by a Latin America Strategy Development Workshop in
Washington in September 1990. It concluded that relations with the brutal
Mexican dictatorship were fine, though there was a potential problem: ``a
`democracy opening' in Mexico could test the special relationship by
bringing into office a government more interested in challenging the US on
economic and nationalist grounds''[39] - no longer a serious problem now
that Mexico is ``locked into the reforms'' by treaty. The U.S. has the
power to disregard treaty obligations at will; not Mexico.
In brief, the threat
is democracy, at home and abroad, as the chosen example again illustrates.
Democracy is permissible, even welcome, but again, as judged by outcome,
not process. NAFTA was considered to be an effective device to diminish
the threat of democracy. It was implemented at home by effective
subversion of the democratic process, and in Mexico by force, again over
vain public protest. The results are now presented as a hopeful instrument
to bring American-style democracy to benighted Mexicans. A cynical
observer aware of the facts might agree.
Once again, the
chosen illustrations of the triumph of democracy are natural ones, and are
interesting and revealing as well, though not quite in the intended
manner.
Markets are always a
social construction, and in the specific form being crafted by current
social policy they should serve to restrict functioning democracy, as in
the case of NAFTA, the W.T.O. agreements, and other instruments that may
lie ahead. One case that merits close attention is the Multilateral
Agreement on Investment (MAI) that is now being forged by the OECD, the
rich men's club, and the W.T.O. (where it is the MIA). The apparent hope
is that the agreement will be adopted without public awareness, as was the
initial intention for NAFTA, not quite achieved, though the ``information
system'' managed to keep the basic story under wraps. If the plans
outlined in draft texts are implemented, the whole world may be ``locked
into'' treaty arrangements that provide Transnational Corporations with
still more powerful weapons to restrict the arena of democratic politics,
leaving policy largely in the hands of huge private tyrannies that have
ample means of market interference as well. The efforts may be blocked at
the W.T.O. because of the strong protests of the ``developing countries,''
notably India and Malaysia, which are not eager to become wholly-owned
subsidiaries of great foreign enterprises. But the OECD version may fare
better, to be presented to the rest of the world as a fait accompli, with
the obvious consequences. All of this proceeds in impressive secrecy, so
far.[40]
The announcement of
the Clinton Doctrine was accompanied by a prize example to illustrate the
victorious principles: What the Administration had achieved in Haiti.
Since this is again offered as the strongest case, it would only be
appropriate to look at it.
True, Haiti's
elected President was allowed to return, but only after the popular
organizations had been subjected to three years of terror by forces that
retained close connections to Washington throughout; the Clinton
Administration still refuses to turn over to Haiti 160,000 pages of
documents on state terror seized by U.S. military forces - ``to avoid
embarrassing revelations'' about U.S. government involvement with the coup
regime, according to Human Rights Watch.[41] It was also necessary to put
President Aristide through ``a crash course in democracy and capitalism,''
as his leading supporter in Washington described the process of civilizing
the troublesome priest.
The device is not
unknown elsewhere, as an unwelcome transition to formal democracy is
contemplated.
As a condition on
his return, Aristide was compelled to accept an economic program that
directs the policies of the Haitian government to the needs of ``Civil
Society, especially the private sector, both national and foreign'': U.S.
investors are designated to be the core of Haitian Civil Society, along
with wealthy Haitians who backed the military coup, but not the Haitian
peasants and slum-dwellers who organized a civil society so lively and
vibrant that they were even able to elect their own president against
overwhelming odds, eliciting instant U.S. hostility and efforts to subvert
Haiti's first democratic regime.[42]
The unacceptable
acts of the ``ignorant and meddlesome outsiders'' in Haiti were reversed
by violence, with direct U.S. complicity, not only through contacts with
the state terrorists in charge. The Organization of American States
declared an embargo. The Bush and Clinton Administrations undermined it
from the start by exempting U.S. firms, and also by secretly authorizing
the Texaco Oil Company to supply the coup regime and its wealthy
supporters in violation of the official sanctions, a crucial fact that was
prominently revealed the day before U.S. troops landed to ``restore
democracy,''[43] but has yet to reach the public, and is an unlikely
candidate for the historical record.
Now democracy has
been restored. The new government has been forced to abandon the
democratic and reformist programs that scandalized Washington, and to
follow the policies of Washington's candidate in the 1990 election, in
which he received 14% of the vote.
The prize example
tells us more about the meaning and implications of the victory for
``democracy and open markets.''
Haitians seem to
understand the lessons, even if doctrinal managers in the West prefer a
different picture. Parliamentary elections in April 1997 brought forth ``a
dismal 5 percent'' of voters, the press reported, thus raising the
question ``Did Haiti Fail US Hope?''[44] We have sacrificed so much to
bring them democracy, but they are ungrateful and unworthy. One can see
why ``realists'' urge that we stay aloof from crusades of ``global
meliorism.''
Similar attitudes
hold throughout the hemisphere. Polls show that in Central America,
politics elicits ``boredom,'' ``distrust'' and ``indifference'' in
proportions far outdistancing ``interest'' or ``enthusiasm'' among ``an
apathetic public...which feels itself a spectator in its democratic
system'' and has ``general pessimism about the future.'' The first Latin
America survey, sponsored by the EU, found much the same: ``the survey's
most alarming message,'' the Brazilian coordinator commented, was ``the
popular perception that only the elite had benefited from the transition
to democracy.''[45] Latin American scholars observe that the recent wave
of democratization coincided with neoliberal economic reforms, which have
been very harmful for most people, leading to a cynical appraisal of
formal democratic procedures. The introduction of similar programs in the
richest country in the world has had similar effects. By the early 1990s,
after 15 years of a domestic version of structural adjustment, over 80% of
the U.S. population had come to regard the democratic system as a sham,
with business far too powerful, and the economy as ``inherently unfair.''
These are natural consequences of the specific design of ``market
democracy'' under business rule.
Natural, and not
unexpected. Neoliberalism is centuries old, and its effects should not be
unfamiliar. The well-known economic historian Paul Bairoch points out that
``there is no doubt that the Third World's compulsory economic liberalism
in the nineteenth century is a major element in explaining the delay in
its industrialization,'' or even ``deindustrialization,'' while Europe and
the regions that managed to stay free of its control developed by radical
violation of these principles.[46] Referring to the more recent past,
Arthur Schlesinger's secret report on Kennedy's Latin American mission
realistically criticized ``the baleful influence of the International
Monetary Fund,'' then pursuing the 1950's version of today's ``Washington
Consensus'' (``structural adjustment,'' ``neoliberalism''). Despite much
confident rhetoric, not much is understood about economic development. But
some lessons of history seem reasonably clear, and not hard to understand.
Let us return to the
prevailing doctrine that ``America's victory in the Cold War'' was a
victory for democracy and the free market. With regard to democracy, the
doctrine is partially true, though we have to understand what is meant by
``democracy'': top-down control ``to protect the minority of the opulent
against the majority.'' What about the free market? Here too, we find that
doctrine is far removed from reality, as several examples have already
illustrated.
Consider again the
case of NAFTA, an agreement intended to lock Mexico into an an economic
discipline that protects investors from the danger of a ``democracy
opening.'' Its provisions tell us more about the economic principles that
have emerged victorious. It is not a ``free trade agreement.'' Rather, it
is highly protectionist, designed to impede East Asian and European
competitors. Furthermore, it shares with the global agreements such
anti-market principles as ``intellectual property rights'' restrictions of
an extreme sort that rich societies never accepted during their period of
development, but that they now intend to use to protect home-based
corporations: to destroy the pharmaceutical industry in poorer countries,
for example - and, incidentally, to block technological innovations, such
as improved production processes for patented products; progress is no
more a desideratum than markets, unless it yields benefits for those who
count.
There are also
questions about the nature of ``trade.'' Over half of U.S. trade with
Mexico is reported to consist of intrafirm transactions, up about 15%
since NAFTA. For example, already a decade ago, mostly U.S.-owned plants
in Northern Mexico employing few workers and with virtually no linkages to
the Mexican economy produced more than 1/3 of engine blocks used in U.S.
cars and 3/4 of other essential components. The post-NAFTA collapse of the
Mexican economy in 1994, exempting only the very rich and U.S. investors
(protected by U.S. government bailouts), led to an increase of U.S.-Mexico
trade as the new crisis, driving the population to still deeper misery,
``transformed Mexico into a cheap [i.e., even cheaper] source of
manufactured goods, with industrial wages one-tenth of those in the US,''
the business press reports. Ten years ago According to some specialists,
half of U.S. trade worldwide consists of such centrally-managed
transactions and much the same is true of other industrial powers,[47]
though one must treat with caution conclusions about institutions with
limited public accountability. Some economists have plausibly described
the world system as one of ``corporate mercantilism,'' remote from the
ideal of free trade. The OECD concludes that ``Oligopolistic competition
and strategic interaction among firms and governments rather than the
invisible hand of market forces condition today's competitive advantage
and international division of labor in high-technology industries,''[48]
implicitly adopting a similar view.
Even the basic
structure of the domestic economy violates the neoliberal principles that
are hailed. The main theme of the standard work on U.S. business history
is that ``modern business enterprise took the place of market mechanisms
in coordinating the activities of the economy and allocating its
resources,'' handling many transactions internally, another large
departure from market principles.[49] There are many others. Consider, for
example, the fate of Adam Smith's principle that free movement of people
is an essential component of free trade - across borders, for example.
When we move on to the world of Transnational Corporations, with strategic
alliances and critical support from powerful states, the gap between
doctrine and reality becomes substantial.
Free market theory
comes in two varieties: the official doctrine, and what we might call
``really existing free market doctrine'': Market discipline is good for
you, but I need the protection of the nanny state. The official doctrine
is imposed on the defenseless, but it is ``really existing doctrine'' that
has been adopted by the powerful since the days when Britain emerged as
Europe's most advanced fiscal-military and developmental state, with sharp
increases in taxation and efficient public administration as the state
became ``the largest single actor in the economy'' and its global
expansion,[50] establishing a model that has been followed to the present
in the industrial world, surely by the United States, from its origins.
Britain did finally
turn to liberal internationalism - in 1846, after 150 years of
protectionism, violence, and state power had placed it far ahead of any
competitor. But the turn to the market had significant reservations. 40%
of British textiles continued to go to colonized India, and much the same
was true of British exports generally. British steel was kept from U.S.
markets by very high tariffs that enabled the United States to develop its
own steel industry. But India and other colonies were still available, and
remained so when British steel was priced out of international markets.
India is an instructive case; it produced as much iron as all of Europe in
the late 18th century, and British engineers were studying more advanced
Indian steel manufacturing techniques in 1820 to try to close ``the
technological gap.'' Bombay was producing locomotives at competitive
levels when the railway boom began. But ``really existing free market
doctrine'' destroyed these sectors of Indian industry just as it had
destroyed textiles, ship-building, and other industries that were advanced
by the standards of the day. The U.S. and Japan, in contrast, had escaped
European control, and could adopt Britain's model of market interference.
When Japanese
competition proved to be too much to handle, England simply called off the
game: the empire was effectively closed to Japanese exports, part of the
background of World War II. Indian manufacturers asked for protection at
the same time - but against England, not Japan. No such luck, under really
existing free market doctrine.[51]
With the abandonment
of its restricted version of laissez-faire in the 1930s, the British
government turned to more direct intervention into the domestic economy as
well. Within a few years, machine tool output increased five times, along
with a boom in chemicals, steel, aerospace, and a host of new industries,
``an unsung new wave of industrial revolution,'' Will Hutton writes.
State-controlled industry enabled Britain to outproduce Germany during the
war, even to narrow the gap with the U.S., which was then undergoing its
own dramatic economic expansion as corporate managers took over the
state-coordinated wartime economy.[52]
A century after
England turned to a form of liberal internationalism, the U.S. followed
the same course. After 150 years of protectionism and violence, the U.S.
had become by far the richest and most powerful country in the world, and
like England before it, came to perceive the merits of a ``level playing
field'' on which it could expect to crush any competitor. But like
England, with crucial reservations.
One was that
Washington used its power to bar independent development elsewhere, as
England had done. In Latin America, Egypt, South Asia, and elsewhere,
development was to be ``complementary,'' not ``competitive.'' There was
also large-scale interference with trade. For example, Marshall Plan aid
was tied to purchase of U.S. agricultural products, part of the reason why
the U.S. share in world trade in grains increased from less than 10%
before the war to more than half by 1950, while Argentine exports reduced
by two-thirds. U.S. Food for Peace aid was also used both to subsidize
U.S. agribusiness and shipping and to undercut foreign producers, among
other measures to prevent independent development.[53] The virtual
destruction of Colombia's wheat growing by such means is one of the
factors in the growth of the drug industry, which has been further
accelerated throughout the Andean region by the neoliberal policies of the
past few years. Kenya's textile industry collapsed in 1994 when the
Clinton Administration imposed a quota, barring the path to development
that has been followed by every industrial country, while ``African
reformers'' are warned that they ``must make more progress'' in improving
the conditions for business operations and ``sealing in free-market
reforms'' with ``trade and investment policies'' that meet the
requirements of Western investors. In December 1996 Washington barred
exports of tomatoes from Mexico in violation of NAFTA and W.T.O. rules
(though not technically, because it was a sheer power play and did not
require an official tariff), at a cost to Mexican producers of close to $1
billion annually. The official reason for this gift to Florida growers is
that prices were ``artificially suppressed by Mexican competition'' and
Mexican tomatoes were preferred by U.S. consumers. In other words, free
market principles were working, but with the wrong outcome.[54]
These are only
scattered illustrations.
One revealing is
example is Haiti, along with Bengal the world's richest colonial prize and
the source of a good part of France's wealth, largely under U.S. control
since Wilson's Marines invaded 80 years ago, and by now such a catastrophe
that it may scarcely be habitable in the not-too-distant future. In 1981,
a USAID-World Bank development strategy was initiated, based on assembly
plants and agroexport, shifting land from food for local consumption.
USAID forecast ``a historic change toward deeper market interdependence
with the United States'' in what would become ``the Taiwan of the
Caribbean.'' The World Bank concurred, offering the usual prescriptions
for ``expansion of private enterprises'' and minimization of ``social
objectives,'' thus increasing inequality and poverty, and reducing health
and educational levels; it may be noted, for what it is worth, that these
standard prescriptions are offered side-by-side with sermons on the need
to reduce inequality and poverty and improve health and educational
levels, while World Bank technical studies recognize that relative
equality and high health and educational standards are crucial factors in
economic growth. In the Haitian case, the consequences were the usual
ones: profits for U.S. manufacturers and the Haitian superrich, and a
decline of 56% in Haitian wages through the 1980s - in short, an
``economic miracle.'' Haiti remained Haiti, not Taiwan, which had followed
a radically different course, as advisers must surely know.
It was the effort of
Haiti's first democratic government to alleviate the growing disaster that
called forth Washington's hostility and the military coup and terror that
followed. With ``democracy restored,'' USAID is withholding aid to ensure
that cement and flour mills are privatized for the benefit of wealthy
Haitians and foreign investors (Haitian ``Civil Society,'' according to
the orders that accompanied the restoration of democracy), while barring
expenditures for health and education. Agribusiness receives ample
funding, but no resources are made available for peasant agriculture and
handicrafts, which provide the income of the overwhelming majority of the
population. Foreign-owned assembly plants that employ workers (mostly
women) at well below subsistence pay under horrendous working conditions
benefit from cheap electricity, subsidized by the generous supervisor. But
for the Haitian poor - the general population - there can be no subsidies
for electricity, fuel, water or food; these are prohibited by IMF rules on
the principled grounds that they constitute ``price control.'' Before the
``reforms'' were instituted, local rice production supplied virtually all
domestic needs, with important linkages to the domestic economy. Thanks to
one-sided ``liberalization,'' it now provides only 50%, with the
predictable effects on the economy. The liberalization is, crucially,
one-sided. Haiti must ``reform,'' eliminating tariffs in accord with the
stern principles of economic science - which, by some miracle of logic,
exempt U.S. agribusiness; it continues to receive huge public subsidies,
increased by the Reagan Administration to the point where they provided
40% of growers' gross incomes by 1987. The natural consequences are
understood, and intended: a 1995 USAID report observes that the
``export-driven trade and investment policy'' that Washington mandates
will ``relentlessly squeeze the domestic rice farmer,'' who will be forced
to turn to the more rational pursuit of agroexport for the benefit of U.S.
investors, in accord with the principles of rational expectations
theory.[55]
By such methods, the
most impoverished country in the hemisphere has been turned into a leading
purchaser of U.S.-produced rice, enriching publicly-subsidized U.S.
enterprises. Those lucky enough to have received a good Western education
can doubtless explain that the benefits will trickle down to Haitian
peasants and slumdwellers - ultimately. Africans may choose to follow a
similar path, as currently advised by the leaders of ``global meliorism''
and local elites, and perhaps may see no choice under existing
circumstances - a questionable judgment, I suspect. But if they do, it
should be with eyes open.
The last example
illustrates the most important departures from official free trade
doctrine, more significant in the modern era than protectionism, which was
far from the most radical interference with the doctrine in earlier
periods either though it is the one usually studied under the conventional
breakdown of disciplines, which makes its own useful contribution to
disguising social and political realities. To mention one obvious example,
the industrial revolution depended on cheap cotton, just as the ``golden
age'' of contemporary capitalism has depended on cheap energy, but the
methods for keeping the crucial commodities cheap and available, which
hardly conform to market principles, do not fall within the professional
discipline of economics.
One fundamental
component of free trade theory is that public subsidies are not allowed.
But after World War II, U.S. business leaders expected that the economy
would collapse without the massive state intervention during the war that
had finally overcome the great depression. They also insisted that
advanced industry ``cannot satisfactorily exist in a pure, competitive,
unsubsidized, `free enterprise' economy'' and that ``the government is
their only possible savior'' (Fortune, Business Week, expressing a general
consensus). They recognized that the Pentagon system would be the best way
to transfer costs to the public. Social spending could play the same
stimulative role, but it has defects: it is not a direct subsidy to the
corporate sector, it has democratizing effects, and it is redistributive.
Military spending has none of these unwelcome features. It is also easy to
sell, by deceit. President Truman's Air Force Secretary put the matter
simply: we should not use the word ``subsidy,'' he said; the word to use
is ``security.'' He made sure the military budget would ``meet the
requirements of the aircraft industry,'' as he put it. One consequence is
that civilian aircraft is now the country's leading export, and the huge
travel and tourism industry, aircraft-based, is the source of major
profits.[56]
It was quite
appropriate for Clinton to choose Boeing as ``a model for companies across
America'' as he preached his ``new vision'' of the free market future, to
much acclaim. A fine example of really existing markets, civilian aircraft
production is now mostly in the hands of two firms, Boeing-McDonald and
Airbus, each of which owes its existence and success to large-scale public
subsidy. The same pattern prevails in computers and electronics generally,
automation, biotechnology, communications, in fact just about every
dynamic sector of the economy.[57]
There was no need to
explain this central feature of ``really existing free market capitalism''
to the Reagan Administration. They were masters at the art, extolling the
glories of the market to the poor at home and the service areas abroad
while boasting proudly to the business world that Reagan had ``granted
more import relief to U.S. industry than any of his predecessors in more
than half a century'' - in reality, more than all predecessors combined,
as they ``presided over the greatest swing toward protectionism since the
1930s,'' shifting the U.S. from ``being the world's champion of
multilateral free trade to one of its leading challengers,'' the journal
of the Council on Foreign Relations commented in a review of the decade.
The Reaganites led ``the sustained assault on [free trade] principle'' by
the rich and powerful from the early 1970's that is deplored in a
scholarly review by GATT secretariat economist Patrick Low, who estimates
the restrictive effects of Reaganite measures at about three times those
of other leading industrial countries.[58]
The great ``swing
toward protectionism'' was only a part of the ``sustained assault'' on
free trade principles that was accelerated under ``Reaganite rugged
individualism.'' Another chapter of the story includes the huge transfer
of public funds to private power, often under the traditional guise of
``security,'' a ``defense buildup [that] actually pushed military R&D
spending (in constant dollars) past the record levels of the mid-1960s,''
Stuart Leslie notes.[59] The public was terrified with foreign threats
(Russians, Libyans, etc.), but the Reaganite message to the business world
was again much more honest. Without such extreme measures of market
interference, it is doubtful that the U.S. automotive, steel, machine
tool, semiconductor industries, and others, would have survived Japanese
competition or been able to forge ahead in emerging technologies, with
broad effects through the economy.
There is also no
need to explain the operative doctrines to the leader of today's
``conservative revolution,'' Newt Gingrich, who sternly lectures 7-year
old children on the evils of welfare dependency while holding a national
prize for directing public subsidies to his rich constituents. Or to the
Heritage Foundation, which crafts the budget proposals for the
congressional ``conservatives,'' and therefore called for (and obtained)
an increase in Pentagon spending beyond Clinton's increase to ensure that
the ``defense industrial base'' remains solid, protected by state power
and offering dual-use technology to its beneficiaries to enable them to
dominate commercial markets and enrich themselves at public expense.
All understand very
well that free enterprise means that the public pays the costs and bears
the risks if things go wrong; for example bank and corporate bailouts that
have cost the public hundreds of billions of dollars in recent years.
Profit is to be privatized, but cost and risk socialized, in really
existing market systems. The centuries-old tale proceeds today without
notable change, not only in the United States, of course.
Public statements
have to be interpreted in the light of these realities, among them,
Clinton's current call for trade-not-aid for Africa, with a series of
provisions that just happen to benefit U.S. investors and uplifting
rhetoric that manages to avoid such matters as the long record of such
approaches and the fact that the U.S. already had the most miserly aid
program of any developed country even before the grand innovation. Or to
take the obvious model, consider Chester Crocker's explanation of Reagan
Administration plans for Africa in 1981. ``We support open market
opportunities, access to key resources, and expanding African and American
economies,'' he said, and want to bring African countries ``into the
mainstream of the free market economy.'' The statement may seem to surpass
cynicism, coming from the leaders of the ``sustained assault'' against
``the free market economy.'' But Crocker's rendition is fair enough, when
it is passed through the prism of really existing market doctrine. The
market opportunities and access to resources are for foreign investors and
their local associates, and the economies are to expand in a specific way,
protecting ``the minority of the opulent against the majority.'' The
opulent, meanwhile, merit state protection and public subsidy. How else
can they flourish, for the benefit of all?
To illustrate
``really existing free market theory'' with a different measure, the most
extensive study of TNCs found that ``Virtually all of the world's largest
core firms have experienced a decisive influence from government policies
and/or trade barriers on their strategy and competitive position'' and
``at least twenty companies in the 1993 Fortune 100 would not have
survived at all as independent companies, if they had not been saved by
their respective governments,'' by socializing losses or simple state
takeover when they were in trouble. One is the leading employer in
Gingrich's deeply conservative district, Lockheed, saved from collapse by
$2 billion government loan guarantees. The same study points out that
government intervention, which has ``been the rule rather than the
exception over the past two centuries,...has played a key role in the
development and diffusion of many product and process innovations -
particularly in aerospace, electronics, modern agriculture, materials
technologies, energy and transportation technology,'' as well as
telecommunications and information technologies generally (the Internet
and World Wide Web are striking recent examples), and in earlier days,
textiles and steel, and of course energy. Government policies ``have been
an overwhelming force in shaping the strategies and competitiveness of the
world's largest firms.''[60] Other technical studies confirm these
conclusions.
As these examples
indicate, the United States is not alone in its conceptions of ``free
trade,'' even if its ideologues often lead the cynical chorus. The gap
between rich and poor countries from 1960 is substantially attributable to
protectionist measures of the rich, the UN Development Report concluded in
1992. The 1994 report concluded that ``the industrial countries, by
violating the principles of free trade, are costing the developing
countries an estimated $50 billion a year - nearly equal to the total flow
of foreign assistance'' - much of it publicly-subsidized export
promotion.[61] The 1996 Global Report of the UN Industrial Development
Organization estimates that the disparity between the richest and poorest
20% of the world population increased by over 50% from 1960 to 1989, and
predicts ``growing world inequality resulting from the globalization
process.'' That growing disparity holds within the rich societies as well,
the U.S. leading the way, Britain not far behind. The business press
exults in ``spectacular'' and ``stunning'' profit growth, applauding the
extraordinary concentration of wealth among the top few percent of the
population while for the majority, conditions continue to stagnate or
decline. The corporate media, the Clinton Administration, and the
cheerleaders for the American Way generally, proudly offer themselves as a
model for the rest of the world; buried in the chorus of self-acclaim are
the results of deliberate social policy during the happy period of
``capital's clear subjugation of labor,'' for example, the ``basic
indicators'' just published by UNICEF,[62] revealing that the U.S. has the
worst record among the industrial countries, ranking alongside of Cuba - a
poor Third World country under unremitting attack by the hemispheric
superpower for almost 40 years - by such standards as mortality for
children under five, and also holding records for hunger, child poverty,
and other basic social indicators.
All of this takes
place in the richest country in the world, with unparalleled advantages
and stable democratic institutions, but also under business rule, to an
unusual extent. These are further auguries for the future, if the
``dramatic shift away from a pluralist, participatory ideal of politics
and towards an authoritarian and technocratic ideal'' proceeds on course,
worldwide.
It is worth noting
that in secret, intentions are often spelled out honestly, for example, in
the early post-war II period, when George Kennan, one of the most
influential planners and considered a leading humanist, assigned each
sector of the world its ``function'': Africa's function was to be
``exploited'' by Europe for its reconstruction, he observed, the U.S.
having little interest in it. A year earlier, a high-level planning study
had urged ``that cooperative development of the cheap foodstuffs and raw
materials of northern Africa could help forge European unity and create an
economic base for continental recovery,'' an interesting concept of
``cooperation.''[63] There is no record of a suggestion that Africa might
``exploit'' the West for its recovery from the ``global meliorism'' of the
past centuries.
If we take the
trouble to distinguish doctrine from reality, we find that the political
and economic principles that have prevailed are remote from those that are
proclaimed. One may also be skeptical about the prediction that they are
``the wave of the future,'' bringing history to a happy end. The same
``end of history'' has confidently been proclaimed many times in the past,
always wrongly. And with all the sordid continuities, an optimistic soul
can discern slow progress, realistically I think. In the advanced
industrial countries, and often elsewhere, popular struggles today can
start from a higher plane and with greater expectations than those of the
past. And international solidarity can take new and more constructive
forms as the great majority of the people of the world come to understand
that their interests are pretty much the same and can be advanced by
working together. There is no more reason now than there has ever been to
believe that we are constrained by mysterious and unknown social laws, not
simply decisions made within institutions that are subject to human will -
human institutions, which have to face the test of legitimacy, and if they
do not meet it, can be replaced by others that are more free and more
just, as often in the past.
Skeptics who dismiss
such thoughts as utopian and naive have only to cast their eyes on what
has happened right here in the last few years, an inspiring tribute to
what the human spirit can achieve, and its limitless prospects - lessons
that the world desperately needs to learn, and that should guide the next
steps in the continuing struggle for justice and freedom here too, as the
people of South Africa, fresh from one great victory, turn to the still
more difficult tasks that lie ahead.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Notes
1. UNICEF, The State
of the World's Children 1997 (Oxford University Press, Oxford, 1997).
UNICEF, The Progress of Nations 1996 (UNICEF House, New York, 1996).
2. Thomas Friedman, NYT, June 2, 1992; National Security Adviser Antony
Lake, NYT, Sept. 26, 1993; historian David Fromkin, NYT Book Review, May
4, 1997, summarizing recent work.
3. On the general picture and its historical origins, see, inter alia,
Frederic Clairmont's classic study, The Rise and Fall of Economic
Liberalism (Asia Publishing House, 1960), reprinted and updated (Thirld
World Network: Penang and Goa, 1996); Michael Chossudovsky, The
Globalization of Poverty (Penang: Thirld World Network, 1997). Clairmont
has been an UNCTAD economist for many years; Chossudovsky is Professor of
Economics at the University of Ottawa).
4. John Cassidy, New Yorker, Oct. 16, 1995; Harvey Cox, World Policy
Review, Spring 1997; Martin Nolan, BG, March 5, 1997; John Buell, The
Progressive, March 1997. The sample is liberal-to-left, in some cases
quite critical. The analysis is similar across the rest of the spectrum,
but generally euphoric.
5. John Liscio, Barron's, April 15, 1996.
6. Bernays, Propaganda (Liveright, New York, 1928), chaps. 1, 2. See M.P.
Crozier, S.J. Huntington, and J. Watanuki, The Crisis of Democracy: Report
on the Governability of Democracies to the Trilateral Commission (New York
University Press, New York, 1975).
7. Richard Cockett, ``The Party, Publicity, and the Media,'' in Anthony
Seldon & Stuart Ball, eds., Conservative Century: The Conservative Party
Since 1900 (Oxford University Press, Oxford, 1994). Harold Lasswel,
``Propaganda'', Encyclopedia of the Social Sciences, vol. 12 (Macmillan,
New York, 1933). For quotes and discussion see my 1997 Huiziga lecture
``Intellectuals and the State'', reprinted in Toward a New Cold War
(Pantheon, New York, 1982). Also at last available is some of the
pioneering work on these topics by Alex Carey, in his Taking the Risk out
of Democracy (Univ of New South Wales Press, Sidney, 1995, and Univ. of
Illinois Press, Urbana, 1997).
8. Ibid., and Elisabeth Fones-Wolf, Selling Free Enterprise: the Business
Assault on Labor and Liberalism, 1945-1960 (Univ. of Illinois Press,
Urbana, 1995). Also, Stuart Ewen, PR!: A Social History of Spin (Basic
Books, New York, 1996). On the broader context, see my Intellectuals and
the State and Force and Opinion, reprinted in Deterring Democracy (Verso,
London, 1991).
9. Editorial, New Repubblic, March 19, 1990.
10. Sanford Lakoff, Democracy: History, Theory, Practice (Westview,
Boulder, CO, 1996), 262f.
11. J. Toye, J. Harrigan, and P. Mosley, Aid and Power (Routledge,
London, 1991), vol. 1, p.16; cited by John Mihevc, The Market Tells Them
So (Zed, London, 1995), 53. On the Leninist comparison, see my essays
cited in note 8 and For Reasons of State (Pantheon, New York, 1973),
introduction.
12. Carothers, ``The Reagan Years'' in A. Lowenthal, ed., Exporting
Democracy (Johns Hopkins Univ. Press, Baltimore, 1991). See also his In
the Name of Democracy (Univ. of California Press, Berkeley, 1991).
13. Cited by Gordon Wood, The Radicalism of the American Revolution
(Vintage, New York, 1991), 190.
14. Lance Banning, the leading scholarly proponent of the libertarian
interpretation of Madison's views, citing Gordon Wood. For further
discussion and sources, see my Powers and Prospects (Allen & Unwin,
Sidney, 1996; South End, Boston, 1996), chap. 5; and ``Consent without
Consent'', Cleveland State Law Review, forthcoming.
15. Frank Monaghan, John Jay (Bobbs-Merril, 1935), 323.
16. Survey of Current Business, vol. 76, no. 12, Dec. 1996 (U.S.
Department of Commerce, Washington, D.C.).
17. Morton Horwitz, The Transformation of American Law, 1870-1960 (Harvard
Univ. Press, Cambridge, MA, 1992), chap. 3. See also Charles Sellers, The
Market Revolution (Oxford Univ. Press, Oxford, 1991).
18. See Michael Sandel, Democracy's Discontent (Harvard Univ. Press,
Cambridge, MA, 1996), chap. 6. His interpretation in terms of
republicanism and civic virtue is too narrow, in my opinion, overlooking
deeper roots in the Englightenment and before. For some discussion, see
among others my Problems of Knowledge and Freedom (Pantheon, 1971), chap.
1; several essays reprinted in James Peck, ed., The Chomsky Reader
(Pantheon, New York, 1987); and Powers and Prospects, chap. 4.
19. See Carey, op. cit., and Force and Opinion.
20. For details, see my Turning the Tide (South End, Boston, 1988), chap.
11 (and sources cited), including long quotes from Figueres, whose
exclusion from the media took considerable dedication. See my Letters from
Lexington (Common Courage, Monroe, NH, 1993), chap. 6, on the record,
including the long obituary in the NYT by its Central America specialist
and the effusive accompanying editorial, which again succeeded in
completely banning his views on Washington's ``crusade for democracy''. On
media coverage of Nicaraguan and Salvadoran elections, see Edward Herman
and Noam Chomsky, Manufacturing Consent (Pantheon, New York, 1988), chap.
3. Even Carothers, who is careful with the facts, writes that the
Sandinistas ``refused to agree to elections'' until 1990.
21. Another standard falsification is that the long-planned elections took
place only because of Washington's military and economic pressures, which
are therefore retroactively justified.
22. On the elections and the reaction in Latin America and the U.S.,
including sources for what follows, see Deterring Democracy, chap. 10.
23. His emphasis, op. cit.
24. For details, see, inter alia, Richard Garfield, ``Desocializing Health
Care in a Developing Country,'' J. of the American Medical Association,
Aug. 25, 1993, vol. 270, no. 8; my World Orders, Old and New (Columbia
Univ. Press, New York, 1994), pp. 131f.
25. Kinsley, Wall Street Journal, March 26, 1987; New Republic, March 19,
1990. For more on these and many similar examples, see Culture of
Terrorism, chap. 5; Deterring Democracy, chaps. 10, 12.
26. Greenway, BG, July 29, 1993.
27. NYT, May 2, 1985.
28. Ruth Leacock, Requiem for Revolution (Kent State Univ. press, Kent,
OH, 1990), 33.
29. David Sanger, ``U.S. Won't Offer Testimony on Cuba Embargo,'' NYT,
Feb. 21, 1997. The actual official wording is that the ``bipartisan policy
since the early 1960s [is] based on the notion that we have a hostile and
unfriendly regime 90 miles from our border, and that anything done to
strengthen that regime will only encourage the regime to not only continue
its hostiliy but, through much of its tenure, to try to destabilize large
partes of Latin America,'' so that Cuba is a national security threat to
the U.S. and to Latin America - much as Denmark has been to Russia and
Eastern Europe. Morris Morley and Chris McGillion, Washington Report on
the Hemisphere (Council on Hemispheric Affairs, June 3, 1997).
30. David Sanger, ``Playing the Trade Card: U.S. Is Exporting Its
Free-Market Values Through Global Commercial Agreements,'' NYT, Feb. 17,
1997. On the same day, Times editors warned the EU not to turn to the
W.T.O. on Washington's sanctions against Cuba. The whole affair is
``essentially a political dispute,'' they explain, not touching on
Washington's ``free-trade obligations.''
31. Sofaer, The United States and the World Court, U.S. Dept. of State,
Bureau of Pubblic Affairs, Current Policy, No. 769 (Dec. 1985).
32. For detailed review of the very successful subversion of diplomacy,
hailed generally as a triumph of diplomacy, see Culture of Terrorism,
chap. 7; and my Necessary Illusions (South End, Boston, 1989), Appendix
IV.5.
33. Letter, NYT, Feb. 26, 1997.
34. Foreign Relationsof the United States, 1961-63, vol. XII, American
Republics, 13f., 33.
35. Piero Gleijeses, ``Ships in the Night: The CIA, the White House and
the Bay of Pigs,'' J. of Latin American Studies vol.27, part 1 (Feb.
1995), 1-42. Jules Benjamin, The United States and the Origins of the
Cuban Revolution (Princeton Univ. Press, Princeton, 1990), 186ff. On
recent polls by a Gallup affiliate, See Miami Herald Spanish edition, Dec.
18, 1994; Maria Lopez Vigil, Envío (Jesuit Univ. of Central America,
Managua), June 1995 (reviewed in my ``Passion for Free Markets,'' Z
Magazine, May 1997.
36. See World Orders, Old and New, 131ff. On the predictions and the
outcome, see economist Melvin Burke, ``NAFTA Integration: Unproductive
Finance and Real Unemployment,'' Proceedings from the Eighth Annual Labor
Segmentation Conference, April 1995, sponsored by Notre Dame and Indiana
Universities. Also, Social Dimensions of North American Economic
Integration, report prepared for the Department of Human Resources
Development by the Canadian Labour Congress, 1996. On World Bank
predictions for Africa, see Mihevc, op. cit., also reviewing the grim
effects of consistent failure - grim for the population, that is, not for
the Bank's actual constituency. That the record of prediction is poor, and
understanding meager, is well-known to professional economists. See, e.g.,
``Cycles of conventional wisdom on economic development,'' International
Affairs 71.4, Oct. 1995. He is, however, a bit selective in exempting
professional economists from his withering censure.
37. Helene Cooper, ``Experts' View of NAFTA's Economic Impact: It's a
Wash,'' Wall Street Journal, June 17, 1997.
38. Editorial, ``Class War in the USA,'' Multinational Monitor, March
1997. Bronfenbrenner, ``We'll Close,'' ibid., based on the study she
directed: ``Final Report: The Effects of Plant Closing or Threat of Plant
Closing on the Right of Workers to Organize.'' The massive impact of
Reaganite criminality is detailed in a report in Business Week, ``The
Workplace: Why America Needs Unions, but not the Kind it Has Now,'' May
23, 1994.
39. Levinson, Foreign Affairs, March/April 1996. Workshop, Sept. 26 & 27,
1990, Minutes, 3.
40. OECD, Multilateral Agreemend on Investment: Consolidated Texts and
Commentary (OLIS 9 Jan., 1997; DAFFE/MAI/97; Confidential). Scott Nova and
Michelle Sforza-Roderick of Preamble Center for Public Policy, Washington,
``M.I.A. Culpa'' The Nation, Jan. 13; Martin Khor, ``Trade and Investment:
Fighting over Investors' rights at W.T.O.,'' Thirld World Economics (Penang)
Feb. 15; Laura Eggerston, ``Treaty to trim Ottawa's power,'' Toronto Globe
and Mail, April 3; Paula Green, ``Global giants: Fears of the
supranational,'' J. of Commerce (Canada), April 23; George Monbiot, ``A
charter to let loose the multinationals,'' Guardian (UK), April 15, 1997.
41. Kenneth Roth, Executive Director, HRW, Letter, NYT, April, 12, 1997.
42. See Paul Farmer, The Uses of Haiti (Common Courage press, Monroe, ME,
1994)' World Orders, Old and New, 62ff.; my ``Democracy Restored,'' Z
Magazine, Nov. 1994; NACLA, Haiti, Dangerous Crossroads (South End,
Boston, 1995).
43. ``Democracy Restored,'' citing John Solomon, AP, Sept. 18, 1994 (lead
story).
44. Nick Madigan, ``Democracy in Inaction: Did Haiti Fail US Hope?'',
Christian Science Monitor, April 8, 1997, AP, BG, April 8, 1997.
45. John McPhaul, Tico Times (Costa Rica), April 11 May 2, 1997.
46. Bairoch, Economics and World History (Univ. of Chicago press, Chicago,
1993).
47. Vincent Cable, Daedalus (Spring, 1995), citing UN World Investment
Report 1993 (which, however, gives quite different figures, noting also
that ``relatively little data are available''; pp. 164f). U.S - Mexico,
David barkin and Fred Rosen, ``Why the Recovery is Not a Recovery,'' NACLA
Report on the Americas, Jan./Feb. 1997; Leslie Crawford, ``Legacy of shock
therapy,'' Financial Times, Feb. 12, 1997 (subtitled ``Mexico: a healthier
outlook,'' the article reviews the increasing misery of the vast majority
of the population, apart from ``the very rich''). Post-NAFTA intrafirm
transactions, William Greider, One World, Ready or Not (Simon & Schuster,
New York, 1997), p. 273, citing Mexican economist Carlos Heredia.
48. 1992 OECD study cited by Clinton's former chief economic adviser Laura
Tyson, Who's Bashing Whom? (Institute for International Economics,
Washington, D.C., 1992).
49. Alfred Chandler, The Visible Hand (Belknap Press, Cambridge, MA,
1977).
50. John Brewer, Sinews of Power (Knopf, New York, 1989).
51. Radhakamal Mukerjee, The Economic History of India: 1600-1800 (Kitab
Mahal, Allahabad, 1967); C.A. Bayly, The New Cambridge History of India
(Cambridge Univ. Press, Cambridge, 1988). Dietmar Rothermund, An Economic
History of India (Croom Helm, London, 1993); Bairoch, op. cit.
52. Hutton, The State We're In (Jonathan Cape, London, 1995), pp. 128f. On
the wartime revival of the U.S. economy, laying the basis for post-war
economic growth, see Gregory Hooks, Forging the Military-Industrial
Complex (Univ. of Illinois press, Urbana, 1991).
53. See, inter allia, Gerald Haines, The Americanization of Brazil
(Scholarly Resources, Wilmington, DE, 1989); Nathan Godfried, Bridging the
Gap between Rich and Poor (Greenwood, Westport, CO, 1987); Michael Weis,
Cold Warriors & Coups d'Etat (Univ. of New Mexico press, Albuquerque,
1993); David Rock, Argentina (Univ. of California press, Berkeley, 1987)
269, 292f.
54. Colombia, Walter LaFeber, ``The Alliances in Retrospect,'' in Andrew
Maguire and Janet Welsh Brown, eds., Bordering on Trouble (Adler & Adler,
Bethesda, MD, 1986). Kenya, Michael Phillips, ``U.S. is Seeking to Build
its Trade with Africa,'' Wall Street Journal, June 2, 1997. Mexico, David
Sanger, ``President Wins Tomato Accord for Floridians,'' NYT, Oct. 12,
1996.
55. See my Year 501 (South End, Boston, 1993), chap. 8, and sources cited;
Farmer, op. cit.; Labor Rights in Haiti, International Labor Rights
Education and Research Fund, April 1989; Haiti after the Coup, National
Labor Committee Education Fund (New York), April 1993; Lisa McGowan,
Democracy Undermined, Economic Justice Denied: Structural Adjustment and
the AID Juggernaut in Haiti (Development Gap, Washington, Jan. 1997).
56. Turning the Tide, chap. 4.5; Frank Kofsky, Harry Truman and the War
Scare of 1948 (St. Martin's press, New York, 1993); World Orders, Old and
New, chap. 2.
57. Ibid.
58. Ibid, citing Secretary of the Treasury James Baker; Shafiqul Islam,
Foreign Affairs, America and the World (Winter 1989-90); Low, Trading Free
(Twentieth Century Fund, New York, 1993), 70ff., 271.
59. Leslie, The Cold War and American Science (Columbia Univ. Press, New
York, 1993), introduction.
60. Winfried Ruigrock and Rob van Tulder, The Logic of International
Restructuring (Routledge, London, 1995), 221-2, 217.
61. For discussion, see Eric Toussaint & Peter Drucker, eds., IMF/World
Bank/WTO, Notebooks for Study and Research (International Institute for
Research and Education, Amsterdam, 1995), 24/5.
62. UNICEF, State of World's Children 1997.
63. UNICEF, State of World's Children 1997. Kennan, PPS 23, Feb. 24, 1948
(FRUS, vol I, 1948), p. 511. Michael Hogan, The Marshall Plan (Cambridge
Univ. Press, Cambridge, 1987), 41, paraphrasing the May 1947 Bonesteel
Memorandum.
This article was
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