Book Reviews
rejecting the state as a whole is taken as a given. Perhaps written in this language for
effect, this approach sits at odds with some of the other essays which show how, in the
case of Uruguay or Chile or Mexico, anarchists at certain times made political judgements as to how and on what terms to engage with the state to advance their cause or
the well-being of non-elite people. Secondly, the volume raises questions about the
diffusionist model of anarchism, wherein anarchism begins in Europe and spreads
to other parts of the world, in this case Latin America. Elements of this are reproduced
in Moya’s epilogue (p. ), as well as in other essays. Baer somewhat inverts this relationship. On the other hand, as Craib deftly shows in a provocative section on ‘misplaced’ ideas (pp. –), attempting to find the directionality of anarchism might be
a false start. Both of these differences in interpretation call attention to questions of
defining anarchism historically and geographically, and the difficulty of drawing discrete lines around the category.
This is a welcome contribution to the history of anarchism, labour, and social and
cultural history, as well as on the use of different scales of analysis for historical
research. In Defiance of Boundaries will surely be a foundational volume on thinking
comparatively and transnationally on Latin American anarchism for years to come.
Cornell University
J. Lat. Amer. Stud. ().
JOSHUA SAVALA
doi:./SXX
Ryan M. Alexander, Sons of the Mexican Revolution: Miguel Alemán and his
Generation (Albuquerque, NM: University of New Mexico Press, ), pp.
ix + , £., pb.
This book is a substantial account of the career of Miguel Alemán, President of
Mexico –, a key figure in the formation of the regime of the Partido
Revolucionario Institucional (PRI) which ruled Mexico for over a generation. Ryan
Alexander traces Alemán’s family background in Veracruz, his student days in
Mexico City, and his ascent of the greasy pole of Mexican politics from the
Governorship of Veracruz – where he established a dynasty – to the presidency.
Along the way are some useful observations about architectural modernism, urban
planning, and the Green Revolution. As president, Alemán oversaw a decisive shift
away from the popular, agrarian and anticlerical emphasis of the revolutionary generation (–) towards what has been called the ‘preferred revolution’ (preferred,
not least, by the United States, with which Alemán forged close and profitable relations), involving industrialisation, urbanisation and political centralisation.
Like many political biographers, Alexander exaggerates the novelty – and the positive
achievements – of his subject. Alemán did not ‘set [Mexico] on the path towards rapid
industrialisation’ (p. ); that path had already been laid down. He was not the first
president ‘to fuse the interests of government and big business’ (p. ): Calles and
Abelardo Rodríguez preceded him. Alexander does not ignore the ‘ugly side’ of
PRIísta politics but he accentuates the positive and takes a swipe at the so-called
‘scholarly consensus’ which, supposedly, stresses the self-seeking authoritarianism of
Alemanismo (pp. , ). (Steve Niblo is cited here, but there is no sustained critical
engagement with Niblo’s excoriating analysis of Alemanismo.) While recognizing
Alemán’s reputation for graft and money-making, which included (probable) collusion
with the Axis (pp. , ), Alexander dances around the subject, claiming – rather
implausibly – that ‘corruption’ is indefinable (p. ) and arguing that, since graft
Book Reviews
cannot be precisely quantified, it is not even worth attempting some ballpark figures. (A
rough résumé of Alemán’s assets – including his ‘gem’ resort located on the ‘glimmering [sic] bay’ of ‘his beloved Acapulco’ [pp. , , ] – would be both feasible and
helpful.) As for Alemán’s cronies, ‘it is no secret that these men derived unprecedented
financial perquisites’ (p. ); in other words, they made stacks of money illicitly.
The coverage of Alemán’s career is oddly unbalanced. We learn a lot about his
student days, shared with ‘relatively poor’ college chums in Mexico City, all of
them ‘idealistic’, imbued with a ‘common sense of purpose and unity’ and ‘an
ethos … remarkably different from that of their predecessors’ (pp. , , , ).
Since the evidence is drawn from these same PRIísta wannabes, the upbeat note
comes as no surprise. While Alexander’s account offers a useful case study of one of
Rod Camp’s famous political camarillas-in-formation, it is both coy and schmaltzy.
Alemán is ‘magnetic’ (p. ), a devotee of Plato and Erasmus (p. : the source is
Alemán’s self-serving autobiography); he and his youthful colleagues ‘acted on a
coherent, sincere vision of national development’ (p. ) – that is, when they’re not
drinking, dancing, and ‘pursuing young women’ or, in less predatory fashion,
‘serenad[ing] them with their guitars’ (pp. , ). But, we are assured, ‘Miguel’
[sic] was not known for ‘indulging in excessive drinking’ (p. ). His wife, it is
coyly stated, was later ‘known for her domestic proclivities’ (p. ); a cynic might
suggest that she stayed at home so that her playboy husband could swan about with
movie stars and mistresses (pp. , ).
Alemán’s relations with the United States are also reduced to personal anecdotes
and detailed discussion of the inner workings of US politics which, though sometimes
interesting, is tangential to the main story. Again, the sources – which Alexander
follows like a tenacious but blinkered plough horse – are partly to blame. Just as
the endless anecdotal evidence is culled from the transcripts of interviews with
Alemanistas, most from the archive of the Fundación Miguel Alemán (not many skeletons to be found in that cupboard), so the bilateral relationship is based on the
Truman presidential papers, hence the myopic concentration on US politics and
the minutiae of state visits (the transcripts provide per cent of the references for
Chapter , the Truman archive over per cent of those for Chapter ).
Conversely, there are some big gaps. The political economy of Alemanismo is discussed
in broad – sometimes tendentious – terms. Statistical data are rare and often vague; it is
not clear if annual growth figures take population growth into account (pp. , ). ISI
(import substitution industrialisation), we are told, involves the production of ‘nondurable consumer goods’ (would that be food?); it demanded economic ‘self-sufficiency’
(p. ); yet Mexico’s export performance under ISI was ‘robust’ (pp. , , ). (It was
not.) There is no proper discussion of inflation (a key phenomenon of the s), of real
wages (Bortz is not cited), or of sharply declining welfare in the later s (i.e., on
Alemán’s watch). The notorious charrazos – the imposition of state control on the
major industrial unions in the late s – are mentioned (pp. –), but do not get
the attention they deserve. Growing inequality is also mentioned in passing (p. ) –
but there is not a single chart, table or Gini coefficient (perhaps these count among
the ‘dry and abstract economic indicators’, which the author disparages, p. ); rather,
we get some very general observations of James Cockcroft, accompanied by a crude
compression of -plus years of Mexican economic history (pp. –, ).
In part, this is again due to the unbalanced use of – in this case, secondary – sources.
Alexander scarcely uses the three major studies of the s/early s written by
Torres and Medina (though two are cited); nor does the work of Basurto (on
Book Reviews
sindicatos) or Loyola Díaz (the decline of radicalism) or Servín (Henriquismo) appear.
Gillingham and Smith’s recent Dictablanda is mentioned, but there is no reference to
the crucial political changes initiated by Alemán – not least in his home state of
Veracruz – by way of eliminating internal (PRI) primaries and imposing central executive control. Indeed, throughout the book, grassroots politics figures very little and the
Church not at all; while the political schmoozing of the PRI elite – often as recalled
and recounted by that elite – takes centre stage. In short, while this book offers some
useful information about a key political figure – and the cronies who surrounded him
– and, in doing so, sheds light on postwar Mexican politics, its unbalanced and often
uncritical use of sources, coupled with its oddly charitable take on Alemán himself, and
its neglect of political economy, all detract from the cogency of the interpretation.
Finally, while the style is clear and jargon-free, it is often wordy and inelegant.
Organised labour viewed the post- scenario ‘as an aperture into renewed activity’
– later, it becomes ‘an aperture which spurred the working class’ (p. , ). The
official party ‘expanded into an expansive corporatist entity’; Alemán ‘did attempt
some half-hearted attempt to reform the tax system’ (pp. , ). Several minor
queries arise. ‘Pacifist’ does not mean ‘peaceful’ (here applied to a street demonstration) (p. ). Alemán in was hardly ‘the undisputed figurehead of national politics’: his authority was disputed – which is why he purged the Left – and he was
certainly no ‘figurehead’ (p. ). The students who blew up Alemán’s statue in the
UNAM campus in did not wantonly ‘vandalise’ it (, ); they were
making a reasonable political protest. Mexico has never been a ‘single-party’ state
(pp. , , ). The place where Alemán’s father was killed – Mata de Aguacatillo –
derives from ‘mata’ (a ‘bush’), not ‘the slaughter [matanza?] at Aguacatillo’
(p. ). As students, Alemán and his cronies did not name their magazine ‘Eureka’
because of ‘their desire to discover new possibilities’ (p. ), but by pure accident
(Alemán himself tells us). Uruchurto should be Uruchurtu, Hueyapam de Ocampos
should be Hueyapan de Ocampo (pp. , ). ‘Proscribe’ is the opposite of ‘prescribe’
(p. ). Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz (b. ) was not a ‘sixteenth century’ nun (p. ).
The author refers to ‘two maritime invasions’ of revolutionary Mexico launched by
the United States (p. ), but I am aware of only one (Veracruz, ). Several footnotes, citing archive and date but not document number, are plainly inadequate, as are
references to entire books when a single quote is involved (e.g., p. n. , p.
n. ). Lastly, the author insists on parading his sensitivity: economic ‘developments’,
when they are not ‘disturbing’, are recurrently ‘troubling’ (pp. , , , ); as are
the Cold War and Alemán’s labour policy (pp. , ). On the other hand, aspects of
PRIísta policy are ‘appealing’, ‘laudable’, and ‘admirable’ (pp. –, ). Pace Lord
Acton, I hardly think such authorial finger-wagging and backslapping enhance our historical understanding.
St Antony’s College, Oxford
J. Lat. Amer. Stud. ().
ALAN KNIGHT
doi:./SX
Guy Pierre, La Crise de et le développement du capitalisme en Haïti: Une perspective de longue durée et une conjoncture perdue (Montreal: Les Éditions du
CIDIHCA, ), pp. , pb.
Guy Pierre, a Haitian historian who now lives in Mexico, has written a remarkable
book. Although ostensibly about the impact of the Great Depression on Haiti, it is
Reproduced with permission of
copyright owner. Further
reproduction prohibited without
permission.
Purchase answer to see full
attachment