The former president of Bolivia, Evo Morales, on Wednesday, May 24, condemned the Chilean government’s decision to support Peru’s de facto government in demanding the transfer of the pro tempore presidency of the Pacific Alliance. Morales pointed out that the decision was especially concerning because it had come at a time when the Peruvian Congress had approved the entry of US troops for training activities in the country.
“We are very concerned about the decision of the president of Chile, brother Gabriel Boric, to support the illegal and illegitimate government of Dina Boluarte for the pro tempore presidency of the Pacific Alliance just when the US military intervention in Peru has been authorized,” said Morales in a tweet on Wednesday morning.
“It seems that the president of Chile has forgotten that [former president of Chile Salvador] Allende was a victim of CIA interventionism. The presence of the US Armed Forces in Peruvian territory corresponds to the interference plan of the Southern Command to usurp the natural resources of the region, especially lithium, gold and freshwater. The authorization of the entry of these troops is an attack against peace in Latin America,” Morales added.
Morales’ statement came two days after the Vice Minister of Foreign Affairs of Chile, Gloria de la Fuente, stated on behalf of the Boric government that Peru should assume the temporary presidency of the regional trade bloc.
“Our government, through its Foreign Ministry, has been very clear about our position regarding the Pacific Alliance. We believe that indeed the pro tempore presidency corresponds to Peru. We advocate that there be an understanding between our countries that will effectively allow this [issue] to be smoothed out in the best possible way,” said De la Fuente after a meeting, held on May 22 in Lima, with the Peruvian Vice Minister of Foreign Affairs, Ignacio Higueras.
Currently, the rotating presidency of the Pacific Alliance -an entity that brings together Chile, Colombia, Mexico and Peru- is in the hands of Mexico’s President Andrés Manuel López Obrador (AMLO). It was scheduled to be transferred to Peru in January. However, President AMLO refused to hand it over to Boluarte, insisting that “for Mexico, she is not legally and legitimately the president of Peru.”
Since the legislative coup against former progressive president of Peru, Pedro Castillo, and his illegal arrest in December 2022, President AMLO, on several occasions, has explicitly condemned the Boluarte government for violating Castillo’s political rights as well as the human rights of hundreds of thousands of Peruvians who took to the streets demanding her resignation. He has called on Boluarte “to resign from the presidency because she is usurping that position and to get Pedro Castillo out of jail.”
On Monday, May 22, the Peruvian Congress, where the right-wing parties have a majority, declared President AMLO a ‘persona non grata’ and banned him from setting foot in the country. AMLO’s public statements criticizing Boluarte and supporting Castillo, his decision to grant asylum to Castillo’s family in Mexico and his refusal to hand over bloc’s presidency to Peru are some of the reasons that provoked the designation.
In January and February, the Peruvian Congress also declared Morales and Colombian President Gustavo Petro, ‘persona non grata’ and prohibited them from entering Peru due to their comments rejecting the coup against Castillo and the brutal repression unleashed against protesters in Peru.
In the past months, the Boluarte government has also announced the definitive withdrawal of the Peruvian ambassadors to Honduras, Mexico and Colombia, alleging that the statements made by their heads of state represent interference in Peruvian internal affairs. Peru has been maintaining bilateral relations with the countries through the chargé d’affaires.
The decision adopted last Friday by the Peruvian Congress to authorize the entry into the country of the US Armed Forces, from June 1 to December 31 of this year, “for cooperation and training tasks for the military and police of Peru,” has been condemned by various social and Indigenous organizations of Peru. Many have deemed it “a maneuver” of the US empire to consolidate Boluarte’s de facto regime, and through it, take control of the country’s large copper and lithium reserves.
It is worth noting that in April, the Boluarte government announced its plans to privatize lithium mining in Peru, marking contrast to Castillo’s proposal to nationalize it. Minister of Energy and Mines Óscar Vera announced that the government would soon grant permits to a Canadian mining subsidiary for lithium exploration in the southern region of Puno, near the border with Bolivia. He also reported that the authorities were working to reduce license approval time for copper mining projects from about two years to about six months.
In another defeat for Chilean President Gabriel Boric and his fellow leftists, the country’s right-wing parties on Sunday won a majority of seats on a 50-member commission tasked with rewriting the constitution imposed more than 40 years ago by Gen. Augusto Pinochet’s military dictatorship.
Chile’s Republican Party—led by Jose Antonio Kast, the far-right presidential candidate Boric defeated in a December 2021 runoff election—garnered just over 35% of the vote, according to the Chilean Electoral Service. A separate coalition of right-wing parties secured roughly 21%. Boric’s left-wing coalition, meanwhile, captured nearly 29%, and centrist parties combined to take the remaining 14%.
The special election determined the makeup of the Constitutional Council that will soon write a new charter for the nation. Kast’s far-right party won 23 seats, the other right-wing coalition picked up 11, and Boric’s left-wing alliance gained 16. This means the Chilean right amassed the three-fifths majority needed to approve articles over the opposition of progressives.
As Reutersreported Monday: “The constitutional advisers elected on Sunday will start drawing up a new constitution in June based on a draft compiled by 24 constitutional experts appointed by Congress in March. Voters will then approve or reject the new proposal in December.”
Sunday’s outcome marked a continued reversal of recent political developments. As recently as October 2020, Chileans voted by a 4-to-1 margin to replace the neoliberal constitution that was implemented in 1980 under anti-democratic conditions.
In the wake of that historic plebiscite, voters in May 2021 elected a progressive slate of delegates to the constituent assembly originally put in charge of rewriting Pinochet’s constitution, raising hopes that the citizen-led body would produce an emancipatory charter.
Following months of debate at 103 plenary sessions, Chile’s gender-equal 154-member constituent assembly finalized a draft constitution in May 2022. The 178-page document aimed to empower workers with guaranteed labor rights and an expanded social welfare state, enshrine gender equality and Indigenous rights, and prioritize environmental protection.
However, the first rewrite was rejected last September by nearly 62% of voters. The defeat of what progressive scholars around the world hailed as a “visionary product” from which other countries have “much to learn” happened thanks in no small part to the right-wing forces that flooded the country with misinformation ahead of the vote.
The spread of misinformation by reactionary elements within Chile was mirrored by a global smear campaign led by corporate media outlets.
For example, The Economist—which actively helped foment the 1973 coup that overthrew democratically elected socialist Chilean President Salvador Allende and brought Pinochet to power—criticized the first rewrite as a “left-wing wish list,” while The Financial Timesdenounced it as a threat to Chile’s “business climate.”
Delegates to the original convention sought to guarantee universal access to health, housing, education, and a livable planet as human rights in an effort to combat the inequality that has been so thoroughly entrenched by the existing neoliberal policy blueprint that remains in place more than three decades after Pinochet’s ouster.
Now that Kast, a vocal Pinochet supporter, and his right-wing allies are playing a decisive role in the second rewrite, it is more likely than not that Chileans will be asked at the end of this year to vote for a new constitution that does not differ fundamentally from the old one.
Speaking in Santiago on Sunday, Kast declared that “today is the first day of a better future… Chile has defeated a failed government.”
While Boric took office last March amid “a wave of optimism surrounding reform,” Reuters noted, “his approval ratings have since plummeted as a struggling economy and rising crime have become the main concerns for voters.”
“Boric also suffered a political defeat after throwing his weight behind the first rewrite,” the news outlet noted. “The president has since distanced himself from the process but vowed to support it.”
After he voted Sunday morning, Boric told reporters that “the government won’t meddle with the process and will respect the entity’s autonomy in its deliberation.”
Following Kast’s victory speech, Boric spoke from the presidential palace in Santiago, calling for unity and encouraging his right-wing opponents to learn from the failure of the initial rewrite.
“I want to invite the Republican Party, that’s won an unquestionable majority, to not make the same mistakes we made,” Boric said. “This process can’t be about vendettas, but putting Chile first.”
Recognizing its strategic importance, economic potential, and its environmental consequences, President Gabriel Boric of Chile, the world’s second largest producer of the metal, announced plans in late April to increase state participation in the country’s lithium industry.
“The main aim of this policy,” said Pedro Glatz, who was a senior advisor to the Chilean Ministry of the Environment until two months ago and was not involved in crafting the policy, “is to provide more wealth, well-being, and welfare to the Chilean people.”
But Indigenous communities and environmental defenders who live near Chile’s lithium resources question whether this wealth-building and the growth of the global electric car industry should come at the expense of their water, homes, and a critical ecosystem.
Chilean President Gabriel Boric speaks during an event to present the National Lithium Strategy in Antofagasta, Chile, on April 21, 2023. Photo by GLENN ARCOS/AFP via Getty Images
Over half of the world’s known lithium deposits are located where Chile, Bolivia, and Argentina border one another. Situated within the Andes, parts of the area are drier than anywhere in the world outside of Antarctica. The region is often referred to as the Lithium Triangle because of its mineral-rich salt flats, which form when large pools or shallow lakes of water accumulate on plateaus or between mountain ridges and evaporate. Lithium revenue accounted for nearly 2 percent of Chile’s annual gross domestic product last year.
In announcing his intention to grow the government’s oversight of the lithium industry, Boric delivered on a campaign promise he made in 2021. Under the new framework, the state will capture more revenue by mandating that private companies partner with public agencies for all future mining contracts. Subject to congressional approval, Boric also hopes to create a publicly owned national lithium company.
Notably, the policy also takes a more ambitious approach to environmental standards across the lifecycle of the industry. The government will create a public research institute to develop new refining technologies, and institute lithium waste and battery recycling.
But critics question whether the plan will do enough to protect the Lithium Triangle from the high costs of extraction.
Andean flamingo (Phoenicoparrus andinus), one of the rarest flamingos in the world, feeding in a high plateau lake in the Siloli Desert, near the Salar de Uyuni (Uyuni Salt Falt) and the border with Chile, in southwestern Bolivia.
Getty images
In response to Boric’s announcement, a coalition of Indigenous peoples, environmental activists, and researchers called the Plurinational Observatory of Andean Salt Flats, or OPSAL, released a statement titled “Salt flats are not mines, salt flats are wetlands.”
OPSAL is worried that lithium extracted from Chile and other South American countries will be primarily used for private electric vehicles in the European Union, the United States, and China, which they call “a false solution to climate change that benefits the most polluting economies of the planet.” They argue that such a solution wouldn’t meet the mobility needs of the majority of the world’s inhabitants, and that attempting to replace all internal combustion engine cars with electric vehicles would create unnecessary sacrifice zones along lithium mining corridors.
Earlier this year, a report from the Climate and Community Project found that expanding public transportation infrastructure and reducing car battery sizes could reduce lithium demand by up to 90 percent in the U.S., suggesting that it’s possible to address the climate crisis while simultaneously protecting Indigenous rights and biodiversity.
Glatz, the former environmental ministry adviser, said that the Chilean government’s active participation in the lithium industry could give it more leverage in international discussions about lithium demand. “If countries want to use these resources, we could be negotiating concessions, both in terms of climate debt, but also in the ways lithium is being used,” he told Grist. “It might be a better use of that lithium to provide batteries for public transportation in the global south, rather than to support an unsustainable lifestyle in the global north, and it’s a shame that these ideas are not in the discussion today.”
OPSAL welcomes increased state participation and hopes that the government will center the Andean salt flats and wetlands in its management of the lithium industry. Boric’s lithium strategy explicitly acknowledges territorial and environmental concerns, and includes a plan to conserve 30 percent of the salt flat region. But OPSAL wants the government to go further by adopting an international convention that guarantees Indigenous people’s right to free, prior, and informed consent — a bedrock of Indigenous rights. Such a guarantee would respect Indigenous communities’ “right to say no to a project that threatens their way of life and the ecosystems where they live,” the coalition said in its statement.
Glatz admits that mining lithium in a sustainable way is perhaps the most challenging part of Boric’s strategy. “I don’t think the Chilean state, or anybody for that matter, knows how to do this in a good way. It is perhaps one of the questions of the 21st century,” he told Grist. “How do we deal with the demand for specific types of resources that are needed for the energy transition, and at the same time not destroy ecosystems or nations that have developed over centuries?”
In recent years, there has been quite a bit of unrest on the Latin American continent. In Ecuador in 2019, a revolt kicked off after the increase in petrol and diesel prices, entire city centres were occupied, and the government lost control for weeks. After the increase in metro fares, the biggest uprising in decades occurred in Chile just a few weeks later. Despite the deployment of the military and fierce repression, the country did not come to a standstill. Even the important UN climate summit COP 25 in Santiago de Chile was cancelled because of the protests. The situation could only be brought under control with the onset of the Corona pandemic and the fear of the virus. Due to rising food prices, Colombia was also gripped by unprecedented mass protests in 2021. As the pandemic spread around the world, not only did the deadly disease spill over every border in Latin America, but the protests infected each other too. Thus, the continent has once again become a hope for many leftists worldwide.
One could say that something is repeating itself here that happened twenty years earlier. Back then, as now, large social movements and mass uprisings in Venezuela, Argentina, Bolivia and Brazil brought ‘left’ governments to power; with Lula, the new ‘bearer of hope’ in Brazil, it is even the same person that is reappearing two decades later. The fact that history always repeats itself twice, “one time as a great tragedy, the other time as a lousy farce” (Marx), seems to be remarkably confirmed by the example of the new ‘progressive’ governments in Latin America. Nevertheless, many leftists in Latin America and also in this country expect great things from these new governments; quite a few got tears in their eyes when Gabriel Boric (Chile), Gustavo Petro (Colombia) and Ignacio Lula da Silva (Brazil) took office. ‘Der Freitag’, a German left-wing magazine, recently ran a headline on the development in Latin America: “On the move: A whole continent draws new hope”. Only a short time later, Chancellor Scholz was on a shopping spree in South America together with an entourage of German employers. Thus, the open veins of Latin America (Galeano) continue to bleed today; at present, German capital is eager to exploit, above all, the huge lithium deposits to keep the German motorways filled with electric cars.
Besides the hope that many put in the new ‘left’ governments in Latin America, a few months ago the vote on the draft of a new constitution in Chile came into focus. From the radical left to the liberal left, the draft was hailed as the “most progressive constitution” in the world and a new dawn of emancipatory politics was expected in the country where once the dictator Pinochet, with the help of the Chicago Boys, ushered in neoliberal economic reforms and privatised almost all sectors throughout the country – education, the pension system, the health sector and water resources. But the vote on the draft constitution failed miserably. The supporters’ mood was correspondingly gloomy. The reason was soon identified and is seen above all in the campaign supported by fake news from reactionary and right-wing conservative circles in the country.
In the following interview with comrades from Santiago de Chile from the collective Vamos Hacia La Vida, we talked about the revolt of 2019, the new left governments in Latin America and the failure of the vote on the new draft constitution. In this right-wing campaign they see mostly a government strategy to ‘deactivate the revolt’, which successfully drove a wedge into the movement at the height of the uprising. They have also been critical of both the new government under Gabriel Boric and the draft of the new Chilean constitution even before the vote. They look at the situation in Chile with a social revolutionary perspective and have a political position beyond party politics and trade union bureaucracy.
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Q: The vote on the new constitution was quite clearly defeated. All this despite the fact that many of the important demands of the mass protests of 2019 were actually included: among others, the right to abortion, the de-privatisation of water resources, the strengthening of minority rights, etc. Why was the draft of the new constitution so clearly rejected? Was it mainly due to the conservatives’ media disinformation campaign, as many leftists claim, or were there also underlying reasons for the Chilean proletariat to reject the draft?
Vamos Hacia la Vida: There are several elements to consider in order to understand the electoral defeat of the ‘Apruebo’ (the constitutional proposal) [1], and it is not so easy to determine how they all interact. First, however, it is necessary to clarify the content and true scope of the constitutional draft rejected on the 4th of September. Although it has been described as the most progressive constitutional text in the world, even by its own logic, in several aspects it only reaffirmed, not only the capitalist logic itself, which no Magna Carta can ever question, but also the marked neoliberal character of the Chilean economy and society. In terms of natural resource exploitation, for example, the draft was not far from what the business community itself required. With regard to copper mining, the country’s central economic activity, the constituent proposal essentially took up what the Mining Council, made up of the main mining companies operating in the country [2], dictated. Regarding the incorporation of rights demanded by various sectors of the population, we can explain the failure by the fact that a jumble of demands was presented in the rather pompous language of progressive academia, which content-wise was much less ambitious than what was raised in the streets during the first days of the revolt [3].
So, the first part of your question starts from an assumption that is not actually true. An analysis of the content of the draft shows that it was far removed from the pretensions of even the moderate leftist sectors. Throughout the development of the process, there were polemics about the final form of the various (legal) articles of the text, which were generally inoffensive to the interests of the capitalist class. There were also arguments about the mechanisms of representation of the political sectors within the Constitutional Convention, which finally gave power to the right wing and parties of the former ‘Concertación’ governments (centrist-left alliance of various parties), despite their crushing defeat in the constituent elections.
Now, of course, the triumph of the rejection vote is not to be found in the fact that the majority of the population shared this critical opinion of the text. In fact, very few people, even supporters of ‘Apruebo’, read the draft, despite the fact that the government itself printed hundreds of thousands of copies for distribution (by paying hundreds of millions of pesos to the “El Mercurio” printing house, the temple of right-wing media) [4]. However, this partly sets the context in which other factors came into play and triggered the defeat of reformist aspirations.
Undoubtedly, the social contexts at the national and international levels are quite different between the events of the first referendum in 2020 and the recent one on the 4th of September 2022. In the current months, the blows of the generalised crisis of capital are being felt strongly in the region, with very high inflation and an almost intolerable rise in the cost of living. In this sense, in a climate of generalised uncertainty, the proposed new constitution seemed to increase instability. In the face of the crisis, popular voting behaviour is conservative. This is linked to the very perception of the current situation and the situation of the government. After an initial rejection of traditional politics in the last elections, traditional politics seemed to regain control both within the constitutional convention and in the government and congress, reducing enthusiasm and support for progressive proposals. Added to this was the fact that voting was compulsory under the threat of a fine. It should not go unmentioned that, in the months leading up to the referendum, the government itself took care to play down the importance of the plebiscite, stating that whatever the result, it should be the Congress that finally gave the draft its definitive version: [5]
“I will guarantee that this agreement [of the ruling parties to reform the text] will be implemented in the event of winning the approval (…) and that uncertainty will be removed from the people” (Boric).
There was also a collective intuition that the proposal was unsustainable in many respects, promising abstract rights while ensuring economic activities that would prevent their fulfilment. Moreover, its implementation would be slow and expensive, which again was read as negative by a large part of the population, and certainly, these were elements used by the right wing and its campaign for rejection. It is also, it should be noted, a vote of disapproval of the first months of government, in which, under the excuse of fiscal responsibility, austerity policies have been even more notorious than those of the previous Piñera government.
Finally, we would like to make it clear that for us the result of the vote does not mean a tendency towards the right-wing of the population in general. Here we disagree with a broad spectrum of the left that ranted against the “ignorant populace” in the days after the vote. Rather, the result of the vote expresses a certain sentiment, fed by the activity of leftism in government and its ‘critical supporters’, in a specific social context of global crisis. In any case, the defeat of the Apruebo was not perceived as a great popular victory. There were no mass celebrations in the city centres, much less in the outskirts. The more openly reactionary and right-wing sectors assessed it as a triumph, but even within their ranks many were cautious about claiming credit for all the no votes.
Q: The discussion on a new constitution began immediately after (or during) the 2019 uprising and always took place at the local level across the country, in so-called cabildos (community councils). Here, most of the representatives of the official parties were not trusted. Moreover, the drafting of a new constitution has been the political goal of a large part of Chilean society or social movements since the end of the Pinochet era. Why, however, do you describe the vote as a “spectacle” and a “political farce”? How did these popular initiatives relate to the final process of drafting the constitution?
VHLV: It must be emphasised that the demand for a new constitution was not raised from the beginning of the uprising and was not the reason for the explosion of the revolt. It is true that it was positioned early on as a unifying demand, but not during the first days. It was installed rather externally from political organisations and the trade union bureaucracy that were not acting directly in the various early expressions of the revolt. In particular, various trade union bureaucracies, mainly linked to the CP, which came together in an amorphous and ephemeral body called Social Unity, were the ones who tried to direct the enormous deployment of energies in the first weeks behind the demand for a new constitution. A distinction must also be made between the so-called ‘cabildos’ and the Asambleas Territoriales proper (or Asambleas Populares, as they were called in some cities other than Santiago) [6]. At first, these names for the emerging bodies of assembly coordination were somewhat confusing, but the so-called ‘cabildos’ were quickly confined to the official institutional bodies, particularly the municipalities, which came together throughout the country and even held their own election process. [7]
The ‘cabildos’, very much in the minority, focused almost exclusively on calling for a constituent process, but in the Territorial Assemblies, the process was quite different, with the latter behaving as meeting spaces for organising activities in the neighbourhoods, debating the context, preparing demonstrations, responding to the concrete needs of the local neighbourhoods, and so on. Nor is it really the case that the new constitution has been a historical and massive demand in Chilean society. It was always a slogan of the more institutional left and of certain citizens’ initiatives, of reformism, after all, but not necessarily of a large part of the more radical left or of the anarchist milieu, nor was it integrated into the bulk of the population. In fact, the defeat of the ‘Apruebo’ partially demonstrates this reality.
The process was not a “farce” or a “spectacle” only because it was insufficient or because of its flawed origin in the “Agreement for Social Peace” (Acuerdo por la Paz Social) negotiated behind closed doors, but because it was positioned as the best way to deactivate the revolt. The efforts of progressivism were notorious for trying to make the insurrectionary masses yield to their demands. They composed horrendous hymns (such as the outrage to Victor Jara’s “El derecho de vivir en paz”), they made videos for social media, introduced themselves into assembly spaces, and so on.
It also becomes evident that the demand for a new constitution is more typical of traditional political parties in the context of a political crisis than a spontaneous demand of the general population. It is necessary to dismantle the mythology that the left of capital is constructing about the revolt. For them, it would correspond to an explosion of discontent of the middle classes, peaceful in general, which was tainted by violent acts (such as looting, mainly) organised by ultra-leftists, lumpen and drug gangs. For them the logical consequence of this situation was the constituent process, which supposedly lost because of right-wing fake news or widespread political immaturity.
Q: Isn’t that a bit too simple, to stick to the absolute maximum demand, revolt and social revolution (which we obviously sympathise with)? One could also say that the constitution improves the situation of the proletarians in some places, as well as the laws of the bourgeoisie and the state. A new constitution or the end of Chilean neoliberalism seemed to be at the centre of the movement. So again, in a different way, does your critique refer to the concrete process of constitution-making or to the goal of a new constitution itself? What majorities and possibilities were and are there for revolutionary politics; even the revolutionary left missed opportunities to position itself more strongly during the revolt and to get involved in the process. How did you, as revolutionaries, get involved in the process after the revolt?
VHLV: A common justification of the reformist path is to accuse people of maximalism wherever the possibility of a revolutionary rupture is raised. As we have argued above, the draft new constitution in no way guaranteed any improvement in the conditions of subsistence, either immediate or long-term, of the proletariat in general. This does not mean that the majority of the population understood the proposal in these same terms, but neither did they manage to see in it a concrete solution. Different historical reference points of the socialist movement (from its most hesitant to its most radical variants) already drew some crucial lessons about these processes more than a century ago, particularly in reference to the revolutionary wave of 1848, highlighting the futility of the pretence of introducing important and significant changes in society through the making of a constitution, if the “real forces that rule the country” are not also modified [8]. In this framework, our critique of the Chilean constituent process is nourished by discussions and experiences operating at different levels.
The origin of this process, which is to be found in a closed-door pact of the Chilean political elite, with the explicit aim of ‘putting out the fire’ of the revolt [9], should be clearly pointed out. Since it was in the hands of the official parties to work out the constitutional process, its scope was already limited from the outset and subordinated to their interests.
So we criticise the process both for the need to clarify the historical and fundamental role of the state machinery, and for the specifically reactionary character of the process in Chile and its practical impossibility of offering significant, or even minor, improvements in the living conditions of our class.
Our reasoning is as follows: we are not interested in propagating absolute ideas behind which the masses and their experiences of struggle have to bend. Our position is contingent: it tries to discern the real possibilities of improving our living conditions. The legalist path demands integration, or at least domestication to some degree, with respect to capitalist institutionality, which automatically corrodes the relative autonomy of the struggles for demands, which in turn is the guarantee of achieving those demands. Entering the field of bourgeois legality with the pretence of achieving real goals undermines the only source of strength that can get immediate improvements from the state and the employers. This is not a pure abstraction. These three years have provided examples of this dynamic.
Firstly, the Territorial Assemblies, bodies that were beginning to become nuclei that organised social activity in the territories (generating spaces for meetings, conversation, artistic expression, the setting out of demands and struggles, methods of struggle, solidarity against repression, etc.), were soon shattered from within, both by the imposition of legal debates and by the growing mutual distrust that began to be generated by the fact that, in the back rooms, candidacies started being offered. The Territorial Assemblies were thus reduced to electoral propaganda bodies. One of the most radical and profound expressions to emerge during the revolt was being diluted and fragmented, and all its time was being devoted to the electoral agenda. Even so, for the first time in the constituent elections, electoral pacts were allowed to be formed outside the officially registered parties.
The results of these elections also came as something of a surprise. The right-wing parties and the former Concertación faced a resounding electoral failure, while the large vote of the now almost forgotten “People’s List”, made up of people who were effectively linked to the demonstrations and outside traditional party politics, stood out, together with a high vote for other pacts arising from the so-called ‘social movements’. The aforementioned ¨People’s List¨ announced after its victory that it would not sit down to negotiate until there was an effective response to the political imprisonment of hundreds of people. This announcement came to nothing. The list quickly disintegrated to the sound of national scandals, such as that of Rodrigo Rojas Vade [10], who based his campaign on being a cancer patient, which turned out to be a lie, and mafia-type conflicts within it.
So, although the very delegitimisation of traditional politics was reflected in electoral events with historic levels of participation, the inability to generate confidence in real change increasingly eroded the image of the Constitutional Convention and left-wing groups. At the same time these groups played a leading role in the demobilisation of the streets (there was no need to dirty the constituent process or “play into the hands of the right”) and in the disappearance of autonomous class bodies, eliminating any discussion that wasn’t about the electoral agenda or the constitutional debate. In this sense, the making of the electoral defeat of this path was underway.
In general, the political left-wingers, even those who define themselves as revolutionary, and a broad spectrum of anarchism, succumbed without resistance and willingly to the democratic entrapment, which clearly revealed itself for what it was. In this sense, the left of capital synthesised and clarified its historical role as an agent of the preservation of capitalist relations. Theoretical poverty and an inability to assimilate the historical lessons became evident amongst many comrades. Faced with the question of the possibilities of a revolutionary deepening of the movement, the very concept of revolution in the present context was under discussion at the time and still is today. This discussion cannot be the same as it was a century ago. We do not argue that in a couple of months, the movement would have finally defeated capitalism and established a socialist idyll if there had not been a ‘betrayal’ or ‘deception’ of the politicians. We rather argue that the perspectives of a radical critique of capital must strive to make the real functions of certain institutions and processes visible. During the time of the movement it was entirely possible to strengthen autonomous networks of experiences of struggle that were on the rise, to obtain concrete improvements in many areas (several, if not all, of the more specific demands were possible within the framework of the 1980s constitution), to bring down the government and further undermine the legitimacy of the Congress, among other activities. At the beginning of the revolt the radical sectors saw many of their ideas expressed in the multiplicity of slogans, chants and actions on thousands of walls, banners and meeting places, which made explicit a conscious and general rejection of capitalist normality. Despite this the radicals were also unable, for reasons that will continue to be discussed, to contribute to the maintenance of this spirit and prevent the course of the democratic institutional path, beyond having the lucidity of warning.
To speak of our participation, we must clarify that those of us who were active as Vamos Hacia la Vida are a small group of comrades living in different cities and towns in Chile. But we participated in the same instances in which thousands of other people throughout the territory invested their energies. We attended demonstrations, resisted police and military repression, participated in various territorial assemblies, tried to make propaganda and generate spaces for meeting and debate beyond the current situation, printed leaflets, posters and bulletins. We participated in supply networks and support groups for the political prisoners of the revolt. Perhaps what was most successful at one point or another was the promotion of discussion in the radical milieu.
The revolt opened a cycle of struggles that today faces a counter-revolutionary wave but which has not been completely closed, even less so considering the context of generalised and global crisis. The impressive Chilean social revolt was one of the manifestations of precisely this global crisis.
Q: After the rejection of the draft constitution, there were massive protests in the first week. Who took to the streets and what were their demands?
VHLV: Indeed, after the victory of the rejection there were protests during the first week. They were to a certain extent massive, but, above all, they had a strong component of diffuse violence that made them more visible. It should be noted, however, that these protests took place mainly in the capital, Santiago, and that the rest of Chile did not witness a similar degree of protest and confrontational discontent. The main participants were young people, initially and to a greater extent, secondary school students and, later and to a lesser extent, university students – who effectively joined under the slogan of carrying out a ‘real’ Constituent Assembly. The marches were sometimes joined by people of more proletarian background, older people or even families, demonstrators who simply wanted to confront the police, or those who wanted to take advantage of the opportunity to get free goods if looting took place.
However, to say what the demands of these protests were, becomes somewhat complicated, as many of the protesters were not necessarily there for any clear and overt reason. It can be said that there was indeed discontent about the results of the vote, which initially motivated people to take to the streets to protest for at least a week. The progressive bourgeoisie had promised major changes through institutional channels, which would be expressed in the implementation of a new constitution for the country. When this institutional path failed, and the new constitution was not implemented, many people took to the streets to retake what they intuitively felt was one of the main lessons that the revolt of the 18th and 19th of October had left in their memory: that their strength lay in violent subversion against the current order and not in institutional dispute. Thus, many also went out with the intention of replicating those radical practices that had been successful in generating a rupture with capitalist everyday life during the revolt, such as blocking streets and underground tracks, or jumping turnstiles, evading the payment of fares in a collective manner. It is true that a portion of these demonstrators raised slogans about the formation of a new Constituent Assembly (and of course, this time more ‘democratic’, ‘popular’, and ‘real’ than the previous one), but this did not gain mass support, neither in the streets nor in social organisations or ultra-left groups; only the left of capital debated internally how to negotiate a new process with the right.
(…)
It is also worth mentioning that this type of mobilisation has taken place almost without interruption throughout the year. It was mainly led by secondary school students, expressing, as we have already mentioned, a generalised weariness, but accentuated by the deficiencies and multiple problems associated with the return to face-to-face classes after two years of confinement due to the COVID-19 pandemic. They addressed the structural shortcomings of many establishments, administrative disorganisation, poor food services, a climate of school violence related to the extension of the school day (in several petitions the demand for the end of the “full school day” or its reduction in hours is repeated), amongst other things. These mobilisations have resulted in daily confrontations with the police, in some cases with the military [11]. We have seen takeovers of schools, massive days of mobilisations in various cities, and, for example, in the case of Santiago, interventions in which students rebuke the mayor of Santiago, Irací Hassler, of the Communist Party, for continuing and increasing the persecution and repression of secondary school students. In previous periods, when the right wing was in charge of the area, the repression had been denounced by the same politicians that now execute it.
Q: Many leftists in Germany (and Europe) also looked forward to the election of the new constitution and praised the “most progressive” constitution in the world. A few months earlier, the former student leader Boric came to power. Here there were similar reactions, the new government was described as feminist and a great ray of hope for the left in Latin America. How do you assess the first months of Boric’s government?
VHLV: The first thing to point out is that Boric has always played the role of a fireman and worked towards the containment of the most radical expressions within the student movement from which he comes. And today, with the reins of the state, he has fulfilled a similar role: the Boric administration did not take long to show a brutal continuity with the previous government both in terms of repression and in the implementation of policies that favour capitalist restructuring to the detriment of our already precarious living conditions. And it cannot be otherwise, since we must not forget that Boric was a key player in the management of the counter-revolutionary “Agreement for Social Peace and the New Constitution” signed on the 15th of November 2019. This was meant to channel the power of the revolt within the framework of institutionality and initiate a process of capitalist restoration whose central axis was to create a new Constitution. Today we suffer all its consequences in all their rawness. None of his campaign promises, many of them structural reforms, have been implemented and there is no indication that they will become reality in the near future. This is due to his coalition betting everything on “carrying out the great transformations that Chile needs” after a supposed electoral victory in the plebiscite of the 4th of September, which as we already know not only did not happen but was a resounding failure. This has generated tensions within the government, above all with the “Communist” Party, but it has also provoked great disappointment and paralysis on the left that supported it ‘critically’, and which has a certain presence in some social movements.
In concrete terms, on the eve of the third anniversary of the revolt the government affirmed that “for the moment” it will not renew the amnesty bill for the political prisoners of the 2019 rebellion, many of whom have already been sentenced to very harsh prison terms. They announced this through Camila Vallejo, the ministerial spokesperson. Nor have repressive measures such as the “Anti-sabotage and anti-barricade law” (Law 21.208) been repealed, and the State Security Law continues to be applied selectively, as happened with the spokesperson of the Coordinator of Communities in Conflict Arauco Malleco-CAM, Héctor Llaitul, who is in pre-trial detention. The uninterrupted continuation of the state of emergency in what they call the “southern macro-zone”, with the military deployed in strategic sectors, means a direct criminalisation of the autonomous Mapuche movement, which is treated as an internal enemy, but which nevertheless is not intimidated and continues to fight directly against the state.
On the other hand, the government’s ‘iron fist’ discourse against crime and ‘illegal’ migration isn’t much different to the most reactionary ultra-right’s. Boric’s ultimatum to foreigners in an irregular situation in the Chilean region was “either they regularise their status or they leave.” In addition the government ordered the construction of ditches on the border with Bolivia to “contain the migratory crisis” (as the right-wing Kast proposed during his campaign, which at the time was criticised and ridiculed by the left, who even nicknamed him “El zanjas” (the ditch). “We are going to be dogs in the pursuit of crime”, Boric vociferated, while the government is already studying the implementation of ‘Mexican strategies’ – with all that this implies – to combat growing criminality. Added to all this is the derisory reform of the Carabineros, which boils down to a reduction in recruitment requirements: people of smaller stature, with tattoos, flat feet or cavities will now be able to become police officers. The government’s support for the Carabineros has been unconditional, and in this sense, hundreds of cases of police violence during the uprising, including torture, sexual abuse and murder, have gone completely unpunished. This state policy is also expressed in the presentation of more than 74 lawsuits filed by the Ministry of the Interior so far this year. Most of these target high school students who have not stopped fighting in the streets and high schools, despite the repressive action of the police forces of the Public Order Control (COP).
There are more examples of the line that Boric’s government has taken. For example, his government approved in principle the Trans-Pacific Partnership Agreement (TPP11), which is opposed by various social organisations – and which Boric himself opposed a few years ago – because it deepens the devastating model of extractivist accumulation, privatises the use of seeds, and suspends the labour legislation, among other harmful consequences; his government also recently presented a ‘pension reform’ bill, which does nothing to question the fundamentals of the exhausted pension system represented by the Administradoras de Fondos de Pensiones (AFP – privatised pension funds, introduced by Pinochet), which delivers starvation pensions, maintains the transfer of workers’ contributions to the big economic groups, and does not even come close to something resembling a ‘social security system’ existing in most developed capitalist countries.
Q: In Colombia, a new left-wing government came to power with the ‘historic pact’, the ‘Pacto Histórico’. Lula could become president again in Brazil and in Chile, there is also a ‘left’ government at the helm of the country with Boric. Many people, both in Latin America and in Europe, expect the new left governments to change many things. How do you see this evolution?
VHLV: In reality, except in the leftist milieu that has always opted for the electoral route, we do not see great popular enthusiasm for these processes, nor do we see the rise of charismatic figures as we did decades ago. Even in the first wave of progressive governments at the beginning of the 21st century, it was possible to perceive a greater popular mobilisation behind them, especially in Bolivia, where MAS effectively brought together a large part of the social movement and Evo was a recognised figure. The centre-left governments in Chile, in any case, particularly those of Lagos and Bachelet, were far removed from the Latin American progressivism best represented by Evo Morales, Lula, Chávez, Mujica or Kirchner, since they never raised a leftist discourse of the tone of the other governments, and were openly neoliberal. The current electoral processes are taking place in a climate of uncertainty and generalised despair (the same climate that led to the defeat of “Apruebo”). These governments do not offer anything very new. Some, such as the Colombian case, have updated themselves on issues of integration, promoting gender parity in the state apparatus and appointing, for example, Francia Márquez to the vice-presidency, the second woman and first Afro-descendant to hold the post. But Petro’s first words after being elected were clear: “We are going to develop capitalism in Colombia. Not because we love it. But because our first task is to overcome pre-modernity in Colombia, feudalism, and modern slavery”. This analysis, which was already fundamentally wrong a century ago when it was promoted by the worst versions of Marxism and social democracy, is today, apart from being anachronistic in its own terms, terribly dangerous, because, in countries like ours, it means mainly the unchallenged increase in the exploitation and degradation of ‘natural resources’. But Petro is transparent in the ideological premises and government plans of these renewed progressivisms, some of which have opportunistically benefited from the latest large-scale social uprisings, notably in Chile and Colombia (2019 and 2020 respectively). And these premises are the pretence of developing a small national industry, an objective that soon after being in government is thrown into the dustbin, replaced by the promotion of foreign investment mainly in the area of natural resource exploitation, promising a more stable social climate thanks, on the one hand, through co-option, and on the other, based on more or less disguised repression.
The recent history of Latin America and its development subordinated to big transnational capital can be understood from the restructuring of the 1970s. The crisis of capital in those years already showed symptoms of the exhaustion of an ‘over-productive’ productive system. The recession of those years, therefore, required a restructuring that would get rid of the contradictions accumulated during the post-WWII years with its ‘golden age’ of accumulation and the consensus between capital and labour called Keynesianism – evidently only possible in the centres of capital accumulation. In this sense, the neoliberal onslaught for the countries of Latin America (but not only for them) was linked to two phenomena that explain our current situation: the financing of infrastructures necessary for the exploitation of resources (raw materials and agro-industry), creating a large external debt with the IMF, albeit unequal between countries; and the proletarianisation of the peasantry that flooded the process of capital valorisation in this region with cheap labour. The countries of the ‘third world’ or ‘global south’ as they are often called, are in the situation they are in, as a result of the IMF’s hold on the region – liberalisation of resources and structural cuts. ‘Underdevelopment’ cannot be overcome by processes of ‘neo-developmentalism’, since the current crisis of capital is shown as a fierce competition in the commercial realm between China and the USA and subsequent imperialist wars. It therefore implies a geopolitical reordering of big capital, which, however, reveals the total global interdependence: current events are nothing more than the expression of US hegemony in decline.
There are now clear signs of industrial slowdown, or outright de-industrialisation [13], which means that a project of ‘late industrialisation’ is doomed to failure – and we have considered it a failed project for more than 50 years. [14] This condemns these regions to a subordinate role in the value chain as producers of raw materials. The role of some raw materials (such as copper and lithium) is crucial for a supposed ‘energy transition’, which is why capitalist projects in the region will undoubtedly manifest themselves in a greater subordination to the dictates of ‘green imperialism’, which left-wing governments have adopted to obtain profits [15] at the cost of land destruction and the displacement of indigenous and rural communities. Moreover, this does not translate into an improvement in the living conditions of the proletariat, quite the contrary: proletarianisation is deepening in the midst of a crisis in which it is increasingly difficult to find formal work, wages are being eroded by inflation, organised crime is growing, and social decomposition is increasing considerably, etc.
But, above all, history has shown us that the state is not a neutral organ that can be filled with emancipatory content, that depends on the goodwill and management of individuals. The state is the organisation of capital as the guarantor-mediator of class relations and the reproduction of capital. In the current crisis, we consider the state to be an exhausted institution, incapable of carrying out minimally progressive transformations – this phenomenon was only possible for the post-WWII centres of capitalist accumulation and is currently disintegrating as a result of the crisis. We consider these democratic illusions to be dangerous because the defence of the state and of a national project can lead to a neo-fascism within the proletariat in the face of a lasting state of crisis. The new ‘pink tide’ in Latin America, faced with a situation of generalised world crisis, does not have many options, and so far the governments have been quite pragmatic, maintaining (and deepening in the case of Chile) neo-liberal policies, and improving the repressive apparatus to suffocate the ‘formless’ class struggle, while demobilising sectors of the proletariat in their most immediate demands, accusing them of ‘playing into the hands of the right’ [16], all in defence of democracy and national progress.
NOTES:
[1] The “Agreement for Social Peace and the New Constitution” signed on the 15th of November 2019 established the holding of a series of electoral events starting with an initial plebiscite (initially set for the 26th of April 2020, but later postponed to the 25th of October due to the arrival of the COVID-19 pandemic in the territory), with a voluntary vote, to decide whether to initiate a constituent process for the drafting of a new Constitution, with “I approve” and “I reject” such an initiative being the options to choose from. In addition, a vote had to be taken on the type of body that would eventually draft it: a “Mixed Constitutional Convention”, composed in equal parts of popularly elected members and sitting parliamentarians; or a “Constitutional Convention”, composed exclusively of popularly elected members. The latter option was supported by the left in general. The “I approve” option for a new Constitution won with a categorical 78.27% of the preferences, while the “Constitutional Convention” option (presented by some on the left as equivalent to a Constituent Assembly, which generated some debate), as the body responsible for drafting it, obtained 78.99% of the votes. This was followed by the election days for the Constituent Assembly, held on the 15th and 16th of May 2021, with relatively surprising results: a heavy defeat for the traditional right and part of the centre-left that made up the former Concertación de Partidos por la Democracia (which alternated power with the right after the end of the Dictatorship), while the so-called ‘People’s List’, which brought together people effectively linked to the revolt, was surprisingly close to a third of the seats. Finally, the process ended with the holding of the exit plebiscite on the 4th of September, in which once again a choice had to be made between the alternatives “I approve” and “I reject” the text drawn up by the Constitutional Convention, which was the first election with a compulsory vote since the Electoral Register was reformed (2008). www.bcn.cl/procesoconstituyente/plebiscito2020
[2] “Each of the member companies of the Consejo Minero has a production of more than 50,000 tons of fine copper per year, or an economically equivalent amount in other metals.” https://consejominero.cl/
[3] Even some intellectuals with a favourable stance towards the new constitution, such as the Argentinian Roberto Gargarella, claimed that there is “an obsession with the incorporation of ‘new rights’, which ends up expressed in a list of rights (the Bill of Rights) that expands and renews itself at the expense of – and with its back to – an organisation of power (the ‘engine room’) that remains the same. The institutional structure is still too much in line with the ‘traditional’ model (powers concentrated in the president, a Senate – now the Chamber of Regions – that is still strong, a somewhat old-fashioned judiciary that is ‘renewed’ with a Council of Magistrates, for example). These difficulties are by no means alien to the 1980 Constitution. Therefore, and contrary to what its critics say, the risk is not that of a ‘revolution of rights’, but that these rights will not come to life in practice, as they remain dependent on the discretion of the president and the old powers. The constitutional problem in question, therefore, is due to ‘too little’, not ‘too much’: not that it went ‘too far’, but that it remained ‘too close’.”
We recommend reading the first issue of the publication “No Turning Back Now” (December 2019), whose main text was entitled “Constituent Convention or Autonomous Territorial Assemblies?”. https://hacialavida.noblogs.org/boletin-ya-no-hay-vuelta-atras-reflexiones-sobre-la-revuelta/
Lasalle concludes that “drafting a written Constitution was the least important, the least urgent” compared to the work of “modifying and shifting the real and effective factors of power present in the country”. That was what “had to be done, so that the written constitution that would follow would be more than just a piece of paper”. That is why [Lasalle’s] lecture concludes by recommending to the audience: “if you are ever again in the position of having to give yourselves a Constitution, I hope that you will already know how these things are done, and that you will not limit yourselves to writing and signing a piece of paper, leaving the real forces that rule the country untouched”. Quote taken from “La ilusión constituyente” (http://carcaj.cl/la-ilusion-constituyente/), text included in the dossier “Democracy is the order of capital. Apuntes contra la trampa constituyente”, published as a special issue of the publication “Ya No Hay Vuelta Atrás”, October 2020. https://hacialavida.noblogs.org/revista-la-democracia-es-el-orden-del-capital-apuntes-contra-la-trampa-constituyente-n-especial-ya-no-hay-vuelta-atras-octubre-2020/
[9]
“Anyone who saw Chernobyl knows that this kind of explosion must be confined, not extinguished. And confining it means channelling it, through some procedure. In this sense, the constituent process, which is already playing a relevant role, is very important”. Eugenio Tironi (former Concertación government official and consultant, 18th of January 2020, https://www.biobiochile.cl/especial/reportajes//entrevistas-reportajes/2020/01/18/eugenio-tironi-nos-salvamos-todos-o-nos-ahogamos-todos-vivimos-en-peligro.html
“I knew it was not a perfect agreement, but it was the best alternative available for the difficult circumstances we were in. Was there a better counterfactual? Was there really any other reasonable alternative? The November pact, with all its difficulties, made it possible to give a channel to the October outburst, enabling continuity instead of rupture, institutionality instead of chaos, reform instead of revolution”. Gonzalo Blumel, then Minister of the Interior. https://www.theclinic.cl/2021/11/15/a-dos-anos-del-15n-que-recuerdan-14-protagonistas-del-acuerdo-que-cambio-el-rumbo-del-pais/
The only country that achieved some degree of industrial development in Latin America was Brazil, which has the worst performance among the BRICS in terms of GDP, in addition to a very high percentage of informal work, the consequences of a development model that has been exhausted since the 1970s. See: “Perdemos!: Qualquer que seja o resultado da votação de domingo, perdemos”. https://passapalavra.info/2022/10/146248/
[15]
AMLO in Mexico nationalised lithium, for example.
[16]
In Brazil, these movements have even been integrated through clientelistic relationships.
Chile’s neoliberal government is close to securing a new law that expands the right of security forces to use firearms against the population. The Naín-Retamal Law, a proposal of the executive branch, was today approved by the Senate for a third and final reading.
The law expands the definition of “privileged legitimate defense” to justify the use of deadly weapons by uniformed officers and plainclothes police against the civilian population. This has been dubbed as the “trigger happy law” by social movements who opposed the move. Boric’s law is being supported by the right-wing opposition parties in congress and rejected by human rights groups and leftist parties that were part of his original coalition.
Boris Barrera, head of Communist Party of Chile’s congressional caucus, condemns the law and pointed out this move to give police the power to repress comes just as Chile commemorates 50 years since the US-backed Pinochet coup against Salvador Allende.
Congressman Barrera also recalled the actions of the police and military forces during the social protests of 2019, which caused over 30 deaths, thousands of injuries, and more than 460 people with permanent eye damage due to the firing of pellets and tear gas bombs.
The Chilean government’s own Subsecretary for Human Rights, Xavier Altamirano, has expressed concerns that the regulations ignore international standards recommended by the United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights.
President Boric has continued to attack Nicaragua and Venezuela, using false claims about human rights in the two countries, all while insisting on pushing through this authoritarian agenda within his own country.
Chile’s socialist experiment was made possible by a confrontational working-class political party and a militant labor movement. The experience shows the promise, and the dangers, of a movement based in both government initiatives and grassroots militancy.
Various groups of miners taking part in the festivities marking the first anniversary of Salvador Allende’s accession to the presidency, at the National Stadium in Santiago, Chile, November 4, 1971. (Bettmann Archive / Getty Images)
In the early 1970s, Chilean workers attempted something never done before: a democratic socialist revolution. Throughout the twentieth century, Chile was a deeply unequal society; it was also unique among the developing world because of its long-standing parliamentary tradition and a highly organized industrial working class and associated political parties.
After decades of struggle, the workers’ movement took power in a democratic election and, alongside grassroots efforts, initiated a transition toward socialism. Chile’s democratic socialist project was ultimately defeated by a capitalist-backed coup in 1973, but it has remained a powerful inspiration for democratic socialists around the world.
The past few years have seen a resurgence in democratic socialist politics in the United States. Socialists have won public office at all levels of government; young radicals are turning toward rebuilding the labor movement as rank-and-file organizers; many American workers are reviving and reforming their unions; and promising new organizing has sprouted at corporations like Amazon and Starbucks. Still, we’re a long way from socialism.
Without successful models of socialist revolution, those of us in capitalist countries with democratic institutions who want to see fundamental transformation must come up with a new road map. Chile’s attempt under Salvador Allende and the Popular Unity (UP) coalition remains one of the few models of a democratic socialist transition we have; both the UP’s victory, and its ultimate defeat, have important things to teach us.
Independent Political Action and Electoral Victory
Unlike other revolutionary socialist projects that took power throughout the twentieth century, Chile’s socialists made elections central to their plan for socialist transformation of society. And unlike the more electoral-oriented socialist parties of Europe, Chile’s socialists understood their task as breaking with capitalism. In his inaugural speech to parliament, Allende proclaimed that unlike the Bolsheviks’ “dictatorship of the proletariat” in Russia, “Chile is the first nation on earth to put into practice the second model of transition to a socialist society,” a democratic, “pluralistic” socialism.
Allende’s election was made possible by socialist political parties, firmly rooted in the industrial working class, that refused alliances with capitalists and remained committed to full democratization of the economy. The UP government’s 1970 election was the culmination of fifty years of working-class struggle. Chile’s first Marxist party, the Socialist Workers Party (POS), was founded in 1912, uniting the most radical wing of electoral politics with nascent labor struggles among nitrate miners. The POS renamed itself the Communist Party of Chile (PCCh) and joined the Comintern in 1922.
Ten years later, following the short-lived Socialist Republic of Chile led by Air Force commander Marmaduke Grove and his subsequent populist-infused socialist presidential campaign (garnering 17 percent of the vote), the Socialist Party (PS) was founded. The PS also identified as Marxist but was more heterogeneous than the Communists, distinguishing itself mainly by its refusal to toe the Soviet line on international politics or domestic strategy.
The Socialists and Communists eventually came together to present a united political opposition to the capitalists, setting the stage for Allende’s eventual rise. In the early ’50s, they unified a politically fractious labor movement under one central labor federation, the Central Única de Trabajadores de Chile (CUT), and then in 1956, alongside four smaller parties, formed an electoral coalition called the Popular Action Front (FRAP). FRAP fielded the Socialist Party’s Salvador Allende in 1958, nearly winning the presidency in a crowded race, and ran Allende again in 1964.
The Socialists and the Communists had different understandings of FRAP’s strategy. In the past, both the Socialists and Communists had participated in center-left coalition governments led by the middle-class Radical Party, but this strategy largely led to defeat. While the Communists retained the desire to broaden the FRAP coalition to include reform-oriented upper and middle classes and those they considered progressive capitalists less tied to US investment, by the mid-1950s, the Socialists had broken with their previous strategy of cross-class alliances.
Their experiences had taught the Socialists that to break with foreign ownership of Chile’s natural resources and the country’s semifeudal agricultural system, the working class would have to lead the fight.
Their experiences with such alliances had taught the Socialists that to break with foreign ownership of Chile’s natural resources and the country’s semifeudal agricultural system, the working class would have to lead the fight. The Radical-led governments the Socialists had participated in were incapable of carrying out these two tasks due, on the one hand, to their capitalist and middle-class leadership’s political and economic ties to foreign capital and Chile’s landed elite, and, on the other hand, the vacillation of the Communist Party between supporting the Nazi-Soviet pact and making alliances with national capitalists in the name of a “popular front” against fascism. Because of these moderating factors, the Radical-led governments could not carry out land reform, reneged on promises to support legalizing peasant unionization, regularly gave out ministries to the right-wing Liberal Party, and failed to promote state-led economic development, which would have required nationalizing certain sectors held by North American capitalists.
Around the same time, the Socialists began trying to use fights for reforms as a way of radicalizing workers, rather than as ends in themselves. A minimum program to address workers’ immediate needs and demands would be determined through direct conversation with different sections of the working class. By winning these minimum demands through independent organization going head to head with capitalists and the state rather than through backroom deals with the boss or parliamentary maneuvers, workers could build their fighting capacity and consciousness. If the party lost the fight, it would demonstrate how Chile’s capitalists and their politicians were fundamentally opposed to workers’ demands, and if the Left won the fight, it would build the confidence of workers in their own power.
As opposed to the earlier strategy of cross-class center-left coalitions, by uniting the working class behind its own independent banner in FRAP, the Left could more seriously present an alternative program for society in direct conflict with capitalist parties. But the Socialist insistence on building a movement to fight for the interests of the working class first and foremost, and the Communist tendency to subordinate workers’ interests for the sake of building alliances with other classes, created a tension within the left coalition.
For the 1970 presidential election, FRAP refashioned itself into Popular Unity, in some ways a concession to the Communist position. Unlike FRAP, UP included some small middle-class parties, but its mass working-class parties led the coalition, and it didn’t budge on its commitment to socialism through establishing a workers’ government.
Still, the UP adopted a “moderate” strategy for socialist transition — its first six years would be a carefully controlled government-led process, laying the groundwork and building a popular majority so that the next administration could complete the transition. In these first six years, UP planned to nationalize portions of the commanding heights of the economy, expand democratic institutions, oversee redistributive programs, and carry out land reform.
Capitalist Retaliation and Working-Class Advance
UP ultimately won the 1970 election in a three-way race with just under 37 percent of the vote in a grassroots campaign, led by local committees of workers and supporters from the various parties and movements backing Allende. The activists on the ground leading the UP campaign were involved in active struggles in their workplaces and communities, like campaigns for independent unions. While both the Socialists and Communists were electoral parties, they saw building and leading a powerful labor movement as one of their major tasks, and they were the parties most popular with Chile’s working class. Their combined votes within the CUT amounted to nearly 60 percent of CUT membership in 1972, with other UP and radical left parties making up another 10 percent. The UP’s base in shop-floor organization was crucial to its early success and its ability to beat back, for a time, right-wing attacks on the socialist experiment.
While both the Socialists and Communists were electoral parties, they saw building and leading a powerful labor movement as one of their major tasks.
The Communists were the leading force in CUT, beating out the Socialists in membership among private sector workers in core industries. The Socialists advocated a more confrontational strategy, lamenting in the late ’50s that CUT overemphasized national unity and striking deals with capitalist politicians, which the Socialists thought dampened the unions’ ability to unite the working class around a strategy of class struggle. Despite moderation at times from the Communist leadership, these groups of organized workers would play a leading role in Chile’s attempted transition to socialism.
Socialists winning an election doesn’t mean that capitalists will peacefully and voluntarily give up their wealth and power, and they didn’t in Chile. Throughout Allende’s three years in power, Chile experienced capital flight, capital strikes, lockouts, shopkeeper hoarding, and middle- and professional-class strikes and slowdowns — all while facing a right-wing terrorist campaign, along with pressure from international capital and imperialist intervention. Many of these maneuvers were a rational response of capitalists and privileged sections of the middle class to UP’s socialist program. Rising wages alongside price controls, redistributive programs, and the threat of nationalization provoked capital flight, strikes, and hoarding, as capitalists could no longer guarantee future substantial profits nor, importantly, their control over the economy.
The UP government responded to capitalist sabotage by expanding the “social property area,” the government’s term for enterprises under state control. By bringing industries under public ownership and management, the government could operate firms at a lower rate of profit than capitalists would usually accept to maintain adequate levels of investment and production.
Socialists winning an election doesn’t mean that capitalists will peacefully and voluntarily give up their wealth and power, and they didn’t in Chile.
The State and the Shop Floor
In the face of capitalist resistance, a government choosing to socialize more of the economy is not a foregone conclusion; most socialist or social democratic leaders in other countries have feared heading toward an existential conflict with private property. It was mass action from below, rooted in the workplace — along with the initiative of radical state officials — that led Chile’s government to take this more revolutionary path. (The government of François Mitterrand in France, for instance, pursued the more common route of abandoning its socialist program in the face of capitalist resistance.)
Allende’s electoral campaign and victory inspired a new wave of grassroots action in the workplace and countryside, and that organizing in turn altered the course of government policy. In one dramatic example, workers at the Yarur textile mill kicked out their decades-old company union in favor of a militant independent union shortly after Allende took power. The shop-floor campaign was led by Socialist and Communist rank-and-file leaders, produced a newsletter with its demands for an independent union on one side and Popular Unity’s program on the other, and received support from local party organizations. The newly independent union struggled for control over the shop floor, forcing the removal of tyrannical managers and establishing shop-floor committees to oversee production to prevent capitalist sabotage.
Months later, Popular Unity won an astounding 50 percent in the April municipal elections, reflecting the success of Allende’s redistributive program in cultivating popular support. This victory inspired the Yarur workers to strike, demanding and winning the nationalization of their factory against Allende’s initial wishes. This kind of bottom-up activity spread throughout Chile, resulting in many factories and enterprises being taken into the social property area that weren’t on the UP’s original list of firms to be nationalized. Similar processes occurred in the countryside as radicals organized peasant unions and mass land seizures, taking advantage of preexisting land reform laws but also going beyond them.
Allende’s electoral campaign and victory inspired a new wave of grassroots action in the workplace and countryside, and that organizing in turn altered the course of government policy.
The Ministry of the Economy collaborated with workers in organizing the social property area. Members of the ministry were in constant contact with workers on the shop floor, supporting them in developing the case and subsequent plan for nationalization. Their closer contact with the shop-floor movement, along with the economic need for socialization, made members of the ministry more inclined to support these bottom-up initiatives and to transform government policy in lockstep with developments on the ground.
As elite resistance intensified in October 1972 with a trucker owner-operator strike, lockouts, and shopkeeper hoarding, Chilean workers built new grassroots institutions they termed “Popular Power” to defend the revolution and maintain a functioning economy. Workers reopened factories they were locked out of, and coordinated producing and distributing goods as well as defending against right-wing violence and sabotage. In cities, they formed volunteer committees to requisition and distribute hoarded goods. And within the growing social property sector, workers pioneered new democratic structures of participation and management alongside the government.
But tensions were growing within the Left. The Communist Party approached Popular Power with skepticism and was at times antagonistic toward more radical developments in the countryside. In the party’s eyes, the bottom-up activity was jumping the gun on socialist revolution, would prematurely provoke capitalist counterreaction, and threatened the union structures that the party dominated. The strength of this perspective within UP was reinforced by the fact that the legislature and the judiciary remained under the control of capitalist forces who used their legal powers to obstruct Allende’s agenda and force a constitutional crisis. Meanwhile the left-wing of the Socialist Party and other smaller parties within and outside of UP embraced Popular Power and advocated that Allende more forcefully embrace the structures as central organs for carrying out the workers’ revolution and fighting capitalist reaction.
The Right remained committed to ending Allende’s government at all costs, eventually staging a coup in September 1973 that killed the three-year experiment at a democratic transition to socialism.
Despite left-wing pleas, Allende adopted a strategy similar to that advocated by the Communists, attempting reconciliation with capitalists to end the employer offensive of 1972. He agreed to integrate the military into his cabinet, and effectively demobilized government support for Popular Power, notwithstanding its continued growth after the October strikes. Despite further conciliatory efforts by UP, the Right remained committed to ending Allende’s government at all costs, eventually staging a coup in September 1973 that killed the three-year experiment at a democratic transition to socialism.
The Road to Power
A democratic socialist transition is far from the agenda in the United States. And, of course, the two countries’ political and social contexts are vastly different — not to mention that more than half a century has passed since Allende first took office. Nonetheless, Chile’s experience carries important lessons and raises vital questions for American leftists.
A democratic socialist transformation of society will likely have to pass through the conquest of power by the working class through its party or parties in a democratic election. But a workers’ party of the sort cannot solely be a vehicle for winning elections or passing legislation.
Chile’s Socialist and Communist parties were real, mass working-class movements, embedded in the workplace and shop-floor struggles and oriented toward the conquest of political power by the working class and the reorganization of the economy along the lines of social and democratic ownership and control. They operated independently of and in direct conflict with capitalists, and to the extent that they incorporated middle-class parties into their coalition, it was on the basis of the middle-class groups accepting a working-class program for socialism. This is in contrast to left-wing parties that moderate their demands to attract the middle class, as manysocial democraticparties have done in the past fifty years.
Abandoning their previous strategies of class collaboration and instead orienting toward building an independent working-class electoral formation in FRAP allowed the Left to consolidate a unified working-class movement behind a socialist program. In doing so, the Left successfully polarized society around the politics of class. As conservative and reform governments were unable to address Chile’s rampant inequality, inflation, unsustainable economic development, and imperialist domination, this independent force was able to put itself — and its program — forward as a compelling alternative.
Actions inside and outside the state reinforced one another, with victories in the electoral sphere both building upon and further inspiring grassroots action. Grassroots activity in turn set into motion revolutionary processes that state managers couldn’t control, although some encouraged and collaborated with them. The electoral and grassroots wings also came into conflict as a real contradiction emerged: the base’s growing expectations propelled the movement into a struggle that the leadership feared it couldn’t win.
Orienting toward building an independent working-class electoral formation in FRAP allowed the Left to consolidate a unified working-class movement behind a socialist program.
Attempting to moderate the base rather than encouraging bottom-up initiative may have stunted the movement from developing the capacity necessary to defeat or stave off a coup. Allende was right to want to avoid civil war, but it remains an open question of how to avoid civil war while retaining a commitment to deepening and expanding the revolution being carried out by the grassroots movement. Marxist theorist Ralph Miliband, in his classic essay “The Coup in Chile,” argued that only through wholeheartedly preparing for such a war, giving real institutional teeth and strategic leadership to organs of popular power, can socialists prevent one.
These questions may rear their head again if we’re ever so lucky to get as far as socialists in Chile did. But we’re still missing the central ingredients necessary to get there. In the United States today, there is no party or serious pre-party group representing an independent working-class political program and bottom-up struggle. Nor do we have a large, militant labor movement in which to root such a party. If we’re looking for an on-ramp onto the long democratic road to socialism, building those movements and institutions is a good place to start.
On Tuesday, three years after the start of the October 2019 rebellion that shook not only Chile but all of South America, President Gabriel Boric delivered a speech that attacked the participants of the revolt. The speech represents a continuation of the policies of his Apruebo Dignidad (I Approve Dignity) coalition that criminalize the protesters and guarantee the impunity of the Carabineros (the Chilean federal police) after the massive human rights violations these forces carried out.
In his speech, Boric stated that, “The social uprising was fertile ground for the expansion of destructive violent behavior, which has left victims and aftereffects. We must say this unequivocally no matter our political leanings.” He also points out that “the violence turned against the very causes of the uprising by producing a growing wave of rejection in society”.
These statements could easily have come from the right wing but today are voiced by the government of the Frente Amplio (the Broad Front) and Communist Party, and the resuscitated center-left Concertación coalition parties.
Boric and his coalition, which claims to be progressive, no longer disguise their contempt for the October revolt, nor do they even argue that it was a case of violence on both sides. Instead, three years after the rebellion, Boric is repeating the same arguments used by the right wing, criminalizing the demonstrators.
“This type of violence is not innocent; it causes harm, encourages hatred, promotes criminality and ends up promoting a return to an anti-democratic past”, Boric noted, trying to blame the protestors for the repressive policies of the State, which he now leads and which is carrying out a violent campaign against migrants and the indigenous Mapuche people.
While proclaiming himself as part of the “Left,” he puts forward what’s clearly a right-wing policy: “We on the Left denounce more categorically than anyone these behaviors. We must confront them without hesitation, denounce them and punish them”.
“Social protest cannot be synonymous with violence. It cannot excuse or justify violence, because violence goes against its principles and objectives and runs counter to the will of the majority,” insisted Boric. Conspicuously absent from his statement was any reference to former President Sebastian Piñera or his responsibility for the repression of the October revolt.
Faced with popular discontent, Boric cynically declared that “we cannot build a fairer country by burning the buses in which people travel, or leaving people without traffic lights to cross the street, or business owners and workers without their source of income. It is simply not acceptable.”
He continued: “neither is it acceptable to attack police officers, who are, after all, State officials who are performing a service entrusted to them by the democratic system,” as if the police were just like healthcare workers or teachers, and not the armed wing of the State, created precisely to quell popular discontent.
As the icing on the cake, the president declared that “human rights violations, such as injuring eyes, sexual aggressions, even deaths, are not acceptable. At the same time, however, the Carabineros have all our support to fight crime and ensure public order within the framework of the law …. There is no contradiction between these positions and we will defend both.”
It was another regrettable speech by Boric that demonstrates, once again, that the coalition he heads is now guided by the agenda of the right-wing. In the face of an inflationary and cost-of-living crisis affecting Chile and the entire world, Boric’s government can only offer such programs to protect big business and not the discontent of the great majority, who are now labeled as criminals for taking to the streets in protest.
First published in Spanish on October 18 in La Izquierda Diario. Translation by Molly Rosenzweig
The proposed Chilean constitution was rejected by a surprisingly large margin. Why?
To understand why it was rejected, it is necessary to go back to 2019, to the peace agreement and the constituent assembly. On November 12 of that year, we had the most important national strike in 40 years. Millions marched against the Chilean neoliberal system and there were important strikes of several sectors of workers. The political system was brought to its knees. Even analysts, traditional politicians, and journalists suggested that if the November 12 strike call were extended any longer, President Sebastián Piñera would fall, and yes, the political caste would fall with him.
Three days later, the traditional parties, including sectors of Frente Amplio1Frente Amplio, or “Broad Front,” is a coalition of several organizations, ranging from left-wing groups to the Liberal Party, which had officials serving in Piñera’s first government. It was launched by the main leaders of the 2011 student movement, Giorgio Jackson and Gabriel Boric, who back then also diverted the mobilizations to the traditional institutions and the ballot box. and then-Deputy Gabriel Boric, signed the “Agreement for Peace and a New Constitution.” This pact guaranteed impunity for Piñera, who was responsible for systematic violations of human rights. It also delivered a constituent process subordinated to the institutional powers and to the rules of the game of the powerful. The process left in place all the main pillars of the neoliberal regime, and gave veto power to the neoliberal sectors. Thus the regime as a whole, including Boric, rejuvenated the right wing and a government that was about to fall.
How was it that just six months after the Left won the presidential elections, the draft constitution could be rejected so decisively?
Three years after the initial uprisings, Boric came to power with high expectations, which were quickly deflated. He integrated the former Concertación — the Chilean social democracy — into the cabinet. He militarized the Mapuche lands with a state of emergency. Boric’s right-wing politics boosted the Right. Meanwhile, the constituent assembly did not provide solutions to the most urgent demands of the people; the demands for pensions, healthcare, and free education have not been resolved. The political cycle is not closed.
Did the rejected draft of the constitution meet these demands?
The draft constitution did not touch the pillars of the big capitalists in Chile. It did not touch the AFP, the privatized pensions. What’s more, analysts said that the new constitution could “raise new business possibilities.” The new constitution only talked about the freedom to choose between public and private health care, which also works with public subsidies. The government gave guarantees to private companies that their businesses would continue to function. And the constitution did not solve the problem of education in Chile, which is one of the most expensive in the world. Now, we can see a new student movement mobilizing for a better education.
Was the vote a rejection of the leftist ideas of a minority of the population?
That is the interpretation that the Right is pushing, and that has even been taken up not only by the former Concertación but also by the government itself. But the truth is that the demands for education, free public health care, decent pensions, no more AFP, and the challenge to the dictatorship’s legacy are still open in a certain way. What really failed was the line that by playing by the rules of the powerful, accepting the Peace Accord, and taking the institutional route, we could put an end to Pinochet’s legacy and achieve a deep, lasting political transformation. But we must fight for another way.
In this context, Boric’s government accepted the right wing’s framing, and is strengthening this path of a new pact from above among the traditional parties for a new constituent process proposal. This process will be even more antidemocratic, supervised by a committee of “experts” and under stronger control by the parties that represent the interests of business.
Many people view this recent defeat at the polls as a historic defeat that is setting the left back decades. What do you think?
The sectors of the Left that were under the illusion that the new constitution could put an end to neoliberalism are very demoralized. For me, this is not a defeat of the Left, but a defeat of the illusion that the struggle against the legacy of the dictatorship can be taken from the streets to parliament. To break with this legacy, it is necessary to confront the interests of big capital in Chile, which neither the Boric government nor the constituent assembly were willing to do. The Left can be strengthened if it draws lessons from this process for the next struggles, which will come sooner rather than later. That is the perspective that we fight for — a Left of class struggle that is revolutionary, internationalist, and socialist.
Frente Amplio, or “Broad Front,” is a coalition of several organizations, ranging from left-wing groups to the Liberal Party, which had officials serving in Piñera’s first government. It was launched by the main leaders of the 2011 student movement, Giorgio Jackson and Gabriel Boric, who back then also diverted the mobilizations to the traditional institutions and the ballot box.
In a shattering blow to the leftist leader Gabriel Boric, 62% voted against the progressive new document on Sunday
Two days after Chileans emphatically rejected a new constitution, president Gabriel Boric has reshuffled his cabinet as he attempts to ride out a fresh period of uncertainty.
On Sunday, 62% of Chileans voted against a progressive new constitution which would have replaced the current document drafted under Gen Augusto Pinochet’s dictatorship in a historic plebiscite.