Abstract
In Undoing the Revolution: Comparing Elite Subversion of Peasant Rebellions, Vasabjit Banerjee sets out to make a case for the significance of resource mobilization (RM), an analytical framework that prioritizes the role of elites and the resources they supply in the politics of social change (as developed by Charles Tilly, Mayer Zald, and John McCarthy, among others). He does not explicitly invoke this analytical framework by name but he does reference the works of the aforementioned authors and others, and the book’s focal points are elites and resources (tangible and intangible) and the role these play in revolutionary mobilization and transformation (or more appropriately lack thereof). This is seemly done for three reasons: (1) to challenge the political process (PP) model, (2) to sidestep a bottom-up approach to the histories of peasant rebellions, and (3) to provide the reader with a sobering account of the futility of the politics of social change: the new institutions that emerge in a post-rebellion (revolutionary) context fail to deliver a system that caters to the interests of the peasantry, economic, and otherwise.
The PP model is one of the dominant analytical frameworks in the study of social movements (and to some extent revolutions). It emerged in the 1980s and since then it has been supplemented by other frameworks that focus on the subjective features of political mobilization, for example, culture (religious and otherwise), emotions, and contingency. PP poses a challenge to RM and emphasizes the opportunity contexts—economic, political, and legal—and the connection these have to non-elite organizational strength and the perception on the part of movement actors that change is possible (“cognitive liberation”). A constant message in Banerjee’s account is that “opportunity structures” played no role in the three cases he examines: Mexico, India, and Zimbabwe. A focus on opportunity structures, however, allows scholars to make sense of why a movement emerges at specific historical contexts and not others. To deny the why, PP advocates show, is to undermine our understanding of the how, the actual process of mobilization. Banerjee does indeed address the why but only the why as it pertains to elite participation. He proves his point on elite participation—they had economic and political grievances—but the reader is left wondering why to begin with would peasants participate in rebellions. Banerjee is at pain to explain this. In fact, early on he sidesteps this important issue, Individual peasants should refuse to anticipate in rebellions. They not only might face significant opportunity costs such as hours lost in terms of tending their land and cattle; they also risk property damage, injury, and even death from violent repression . . . that individual peasant’s participation,
moreover, “could affect the outcome of a rebellion is extremely low” (p. 7). Individual peasants should refuse? Why would they mobilize, then? According to Banerjee, peasants are able to mobilize because elites provide them the opportunity to do so collectively (as if somehow there are no collective incentives for the peasantry to do so independent of elite involvement). Revolution scholars, however, have provided ample evidence as to why the masses would participate. Here, we may consider, among others, dependent development and economic downturns (Foran, 2005); state intransigence that affects not only the elites but also the masses (Goodwin, 2001); a favorable geopolitical context for movement actors (Goldfrank, 1975); and demographic trends (Goldstone, 1991). In other words, “contexts of opportunity,” “collective incentives,” or “opportunity structures” do indeed matter. Banerjee fails to consider these important factors because the framing that comes with his argument prevents him from doing so. Part of the problem is that he does not meaningfully engage scholars of revolution. Instead, he engages scholars of peasant societies, who are not necessarily/always versed in the scholarship of revolutions—Banerjee’s presumed subject—although they do address the politics of rebellions. He could have also taken to task the literature associated with “opportunity structures,” given how the latter concept is central to his argument.
The PP model is also critical of works that explain political dynamics in terms of elite vanguardism and the resources they supply for political mobilization. It does not completely deny the role of elites, though, as it makes a case for how elite groups play a role in mobilization. They do so, however, after non-elite groups have created the mobilizational conditions that make oppositional challenges plausible. The PP model, that is, is defined by a bottom-up approach to the study of politics. Banerjee would have us believe the opposite is true of his cases and in much the same way RM prescribes. Nonetheless, he does make the significant point that coalitions are critical for the politics of social change; a point that scholars of revolution readily admit. Elites play a prominent role in their formation. Banerjee is correct in asserting this point. However, because he is focused primarily on the role of elite groups, he cannot consider political contingency as a factor in the formation of such coalitions. On resources Banerjee is on much more solid ground and the distinction between tangible and intangible resources is a useful one. Yet, a significant resource identified by PP is “people.” Without a large enough number of people who put themselves on the line, no movement, radical or otherwise, is plausible. To recognize this as a fact of political reality, of course, would require an analyst to consider the opportunity context under which large number of people materialize. Since according to Banerjee opportunity structures are irrelevant for making sense of rebellion, he is at pain to explain people as a resource.
Banerjee’s focus on state formation is a dominant theme on the latter part of his book. He does have a point about peasantries losing out on power once regime change takes place. An overview of revolutionary goals, as found in the ideological articulations of revolutionary leaders, however, would have helped in determining the degree to which these goals were betrayed. What constituted the betrayal? It is difficult to tell without knowing the specific claims revolutionary leaders made. A more detailed focus on processes of institutionalization and consolidation would have also been useful in this respect. Here, using the work of Eric Selbin (1993), another revolution scholar, would have been advantageous.
Banerjee’s take on organized religion is welcome, especially his take on how it facilitated coalitions between the peasantries and elites. His nuanced definitions of what constituted the elites across the cases are sensitive to the historical record. Overall, he provides the reader with good historiographies of his cases. Yet, Undoing the Revolution needs more theoretical and conceptual refinement in order to make the historiographic accounts more compelling. In addition to the aforementioned, an exploration of the differences and relationship between rebellion and revolution would have been useful, not to mention an exploration of types of rebellions and revolutions. While Zimbabwe and Mexico are cases of revolution, for example, one could argue that Zimbabwe was an anticolonial revolution and Mexico was a social revolution. Finally, a more detailed focus on specific religious beliefs (not organizations) would have clarified the reasons for the coming together of the actors involved despite their differences in economic and political interests.
Notwithstanding the various points raised, Undoing the Revolution is informative.