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Schaumberg Heike 2013 Disorganisation - As - Social - Movement - Tacti
Schaumberg Heike 2013 Disorganisation - As - Social - Movement - Tacti
Schaumberg Heike 2013 Disorganisation - As - Social - Movement - Tacti
Edited by
Colin Barker, Laurence Cox,
John Krinsky and Alf Gunvald Nilsen
LEIDEN • BOSTON
2013
Introduction
The fijirst national uprising to challenge the doctrine of
neoliberalism erupted at the turn of the twenty-fijirst
century in Argentina, a country which the IMF had
celebrated as its star pupil in 1996. Four presidents and
two governments fell in the space of two weeks. The
state unpegged the peso from the dollar, resulting in
the largest debt default of any country in history. On
19 December 2001, thousands of people marched into
the city centre from the barricades they had erected
in their neighbourhoods across the town. Banging pots
and pans, they protested at the President’s declaration
of martial law earlier that evening, itself a response to
looting that had been spreading for several days across
diffferent provinces.
Unprecedented levels of unemployment since
the early 1990s had developed, in the second half
of the decade, into movements of unemployed, the
piqueteros, who blocked the highways until their
demands were met. From 1999 onwards, workers
threatened with the same fate occupied factories fac-
ing bankruptcy and seized the means of production
to restart work without the bosses. Neighbourhood-
assemblies sprung up across Buenos Aires hoping to
replace corrupt and inept politicians with collective
self-government.
1. Thanks for the helpful suggestions by the editors of this volume, especially
Laurence Cox.
2. It is important to clarify that the use of ‘disorganisation’ by these movements after
2001 was limited to an organisational tactic to contest the capitalist state’s offfensives,
never a long term, comprehensive movement strategy.
3. Scott 1985.
Historicising ‘disorganisation’
In the period in question, the Spanish term ‘desorganización’ – meaning both
‘disorganisation’ and ‘unorganisation’ – was increasingly employed by diverse
social movements. I will go on to explore its practical implications, but fijirst, I
want to discuss its origins.
It is signifijicant that ‘disorganisation’ as a social movement tactic emerged
during the crisis of neoliberal capitalism. The Argentinian uprising generated
widespread rejections of politics, including its organisational embodiments,
political parties and trade unions. Harman stressed that the role and nature of
organisation is a political, not a technical question:4 so what were the identifiji-
able political trends during the uprising?
Politics and organisation were conflated in a politics of rejection. The uprising’s
slogan, ‘que se vayan todos, que no quede ni uno solo’ (‘all of them must go, not a
single one is to remain’), was a demand to cleanse society of all the elements that
had allowed the economic and social disaster to happen: the Government, the
banks, transnational capital, the IMF, local and global political agendas, bosses,
and the loss of ‘community’ to generalised corruption, immense greed, and indi-
vidualism. Participants mostly ascribed responsibility to local politicians, the
Government, political parties and trade unions precisely because their task was
allegedly to defend the interests of the working- and middle-class electorate.
Instead, those voters felt betrayed by the politics of representative democracy
and became insurgents. However, many social movement activists subsequently
criticised this slogan for its lack of concrete content to fijill the political void
created by the uprising.
Some scholars5 have argued that contemporary social movement demands
directly oppose key features of neoliberal domination. A corrupt establishment
is countered by movements for transparency and honesty; an ideology of indi-
vidualism by direct democracy; the privatisation of public spaces and national
productive assets by movements aimed at reappropriating them; market-driven
authoritarianism by the celebration of spontaneity and ‘disorganisation’.
However, the Buenos Aires uprising on 19 and 20 December 2001 (henceforth:
19/20) did not come out of the blue: it was a reaction to the neoliberal disman-
tling of the traditional organisations of the working-class, which, from the second
half of the 1990s, unleashed diverse historical, cultural and political processes of
reorganising resistance.
Reorganisational trends
In the 1990s, the ‘post-Washington Consensus’ recognised that the state’s ability
to repress discontent needed to be safeguarded.17 By contrast, the main organs
for generating consent – the political parties, social community institutions, and
trade-union organisations – were seen as obstacles to the free movement of capi-
tal, to be replaced with more market-friendly and flexible NGOs.
But the historically high unemployment rate (18.6 percent in 1995) threatened
not just families, but entire towns built up around particular industries, such as
the oil towns Plaza Huincul and Cutral Co in Neuquén province, or Mosconi in
Salta, where unemployment reached well over sixty percent.18 Given YPF’s stra-
tegic importance, these were also the sites of the fijirst puebladas (uprisings) in
1996 and 1997. These puebladas specifijically addressed the social deterioration of
their towns after privatisation.
In Mosconi, former oil workers who had previously organised against privati-
sation now created the UTD (‘Union of Unemployed Workers’). They organised
in support of municipal workers fijighting redundancies, occupied part of the
municipal offfijices and began to develop the fijirst serious and lasting organisation
of unemployed workers in the country. In 1997, together with the CTA federa-
tion in neighbouring Tartagal, they co-organised a roadblock lasting over several
weeks, making national headlines. This was the foundation and model of the
evolving piquetero movement nationally:19 the media dubbed the unemployed
movements ‘piqueteros’ (‘pickets’) on account of this tactic. Mosconi is so far
from Buenos Aires (some 1,800 kilometres) that this was the fijirst time that many
Argentinians had heard of its existence.
Meanwhile, in Buenos Aires, teachers mounted the ‘Carpa Blanca’ (‘White
Tent’) outside Congress between 1997 and 1999, protesting against educational
reforms and the worsening of working conditions, and receiving widespread
popular support. The airline workers’ strike against the privatisation of Aerolin-
eas Argentinas in 2000, the last beacon of national industrial pride, legitimated
popular anger at the continuation of neoliberalism.
After all, the centre-Left Alliance government led by De la Rua had dis-
placed Menem from power in 1999, promising change. This electoral alliance
had emerged out of the Frente Grande founded in the mid-1990s by, among
others, disgruntled Peronists and other individuals, progressive parties like the
PI (Partido Intransigente), and the Communist Party. The electorate made its
general disgust spectacularly visible. In the October 2001 legislative elections,
forty percent spoiled their vote or abstained, despite the legal obligation to vote.
Approximately twenty percent voted for various far left parties standing on dif-
ferent platforms in the metropolitan areas, especially in Buenos Aires.20
The CTA’s Consulta contra la Pobreza (‘petition against poverty’) collected mil-
lions of signatures in December 2001, but the union federation refrained from
coordinating direct action. For many people, this simply highlighted the limita-
tions of traditional forms of organisation and slow-moving bureaucracies. Nev-
ertheless, it helped to articulate generalised dissent. The De La Rua government
was not brought down by élite manoeuvres, but by its own electoral support base
that felt ignored, politically alienated and cheated in its struggle for survival.
21. Levitsky 2001.
22. Ibid.
recruitment source was organised labour. I have already described the devasta-
tion of rank-and-fijile militancy during the 1990s. The trade-union bureaucracy
sold out workers’ struggles against privatisation faster than Menem could sell
industry. As a consequence, leftist Peronist grassroots activities in the 1990s were
increasingly reduced to ‘social work’ activities in neighbourhood contexts (which
had always existed, but were previously marginal to corporatist negotiations).
When, in 1997, the economy slumped into recession, state resources became
harder to access23 even for Peronist neighbourhood organisers. By the late 1990s,
many Peronist grassroots activists began to see Peronism as a political project
of the past.
Second, Levitsky also misses the conceptual flaw in élitist ideology, which
views the masses as unorganised. This came back to haunt the élites when these
‘disorganised’ masses suddenly won victories against the state and capital and, in
some instances, such as in Mosconi, even proclaimed ‘dual power’.24 In June 2001,
two piqueteros were killed during the brutal repression of a highway blockade,25
sparking nationwide protests coordinated together with trade unions, shutting
down over 300 highways and leading Juan Pablo Cafijiero, Minister for Social
Action, to proclaim that ‘in Mosconi there is no state’.26
Lack of unity between movements at the fijirst national piquetero congress –
called by the UTD shortly after the 2001 repression, and while a six months’
occupation of the town’s main square protected the UTD protagonists from
arrest – meant that the state began to re-emerge in Mosconi. Nevertheless,
social movements had been able to appropriate and reconceptualise politics
and organisation during these events. As we will see, this had subtle but lasting
political consequences.
A further élite notion of ‘disorganisation’ appeared around the lootings that
spread across several provinces for several days. The national media homed in
on the looting of a small Korean neighbourhood shop in Buenos Aires and con-
flated this with the 19/20 uprising. The media asserted that the lootings (and,
by implication, the uprising) were a ploy by particular political élites to oust
the De La Rua government. Sceptical views on the Left that echoed this cyni-
cism implicitly negated popular self-mobilisation.27 Yet, with the exception of a
small minority of manufactured incidents, looting focused entirely on commer-
cial enterprises. Police presence, mainly at large supermarket and hypermarket
23. Quiroga 2002.
24. Barbetta and Bidaseca 2004; Svampa 2003.
25. The UTD in Mosconi sufffered fijive fatalities, one member permanently hospital-
ised with total paralysis, and many others injured by the bullets used by the forces of
repression against the piquetes between 2000 and 2001.
26. Schneider Mansilla 2003, p. 136.
27. See, for example, Carrera 2006.
chains, was not linked to the composition of the looting crowd, but to the type
of target selected for looting.28 The clientelist machine of Duhalde (a former pro-
vincial governor, now a senator), the media, punteros (brokers), and police were
keen to re-impose their order over mass looting, which they did not control.29 To
safeguard the uprising’s legitimacy from these attacks, the insurgents responded
by condemning the lootings, with the exception of the hungry looting food.
as a genuine people’s rising, and in the spirit of the ‘politics of rejection’, as soon
as any union or party attempted to raise its banner amongst the crowds during
19/20, they were told by those around them to take them down. On 20 December,
these more organised sectors defending the square were actively supported by
the rest of the insurgents.
The uprising appeared to be driven by what Gramsci had called ‘collective
will’.30 There was little need for coordination, because the objective was clear
and basic; to claim the square for the people and defeat the repression. Far
from being a confusing moment of history,31 genuine revolutions and uprisings
sharpen and focus collective consciousness in extraordinary ways. Most people
who participate in them have never so clearly understood the world as they do
then: a case of the emperor’s new clothes.
The Plaza de Mayo, seat of national power, is historic for many reasons, but
it is also synonymous with the unceasing human rights struggles of Las Madres
de Plaza de Mayo, the mothers of those who were ‘disappeared’ during the last
military régime. The running battles with police were accompanied with street-
barricades and the sounds of cacerolazos, the banging of pots and pans, right
across the city. Large mobilisations were a daily occurrence for the last two
weeks of December, including a couple of unsuccessful attempts by some ten-
dencies to storm the Casa Rosada presidential palace and Congress.
The leftist press labelled the uprising the ‘Argentinazo’ on account of its
national ramifijications and historical resonances. However, the crisis in Argentina
at the turn of the twenty-fijirst century is just one episode of an unfolding global
systemic crisis: as such, the uprising cannot be understood as a logical evolu-
tion from earlier uprisings in Argentina. I employ this term only in a restricted
sense, to include in our concept of the uprising the puebladas and social move-
ments that developed from the mid-1990s as part of the evolving political pro-
cesses in Argentina’s interior provinces, before reaching the capital and the seat
of national power on the eve of 19 December 2001. The events of 19/20 repre-
sented ordinary people’s ability spontaneously to self-mobilise against neoliberal
oppression, while they also carried the seeds of the collective re-organisation of
society ‘from below’.
Towards the end of my fijieldwork, Pepino pressed me to defijine the UTD. It had
become well known for its militancy and a reference point for movements across
the country on account of its advanced development of alternative comprehen-
sive productive strategies. When I confijirmed that I thought it was defijinitely an
organisation, even if I struggled to defijine what kind, he rejected the idea. For the
UTD to reject the notion of organisation seemed absurd.
According to Pepino, however, they had managed to force the retreat of
the National Guard during lethal repression in 2000 and 2001 and evicted the
police from the town for the subsequent two-and-a-half years, because they had
surprised these highly organised institutions by their own complete ‘disorganisa-
tion’. How else could their victory be explained, given that – only armed with
their bodies and stones – they confronted the National Guard, its guns and gases
and parachute snipers,32 the manipulative effforts of the Church, and the media
controlled by the provincial governor?
Schneider Mansilla rightly points to the uncompromising class politics of the
UTD’s leadership and its aspiration to represent the interests of all the exploited
in northern Argentina.33 ‘Disorganisation’ as a movement tactic became an
integral part of this class politics, backed by the implicit threat of direct action,
at least as a way of understanding their ability to manoeuvre in unfavourable
conditions during their negotiations with powerful state and capital interests.
Arguably, ‘disorganisation’ in this sense might be more usefully understood as
organising within a logic that prioritises collective need over greed and thus
contrasts with the capitalist norm.
32. Witnessed and fijilmed by the journalist Marco Díaz Muñoz from Salta.
33. Schneider Mansilla 2003.
34. Saccarelli 2004.
35. Manzano 2004.
36. Colmegna 2003; Manzano 2004.
The popular assembly movement in Buenos Aires was largely composed of the
professional and educated middle classes, though it was the minority of popu-
lar assemblies in poorer working-class barrios such as Pompeya that survived
longest. This is partly because of the nature of longer lasting and more imme-
diate need, and partly because of diffferences in organisational developments
and leadership. The longer these movements resisted the encroaching political
reconstruction of the status quo, the more signifijicant any issues related to organ-
isation became, and it was at this juncture that the notion of ‘disorganisation’
began to be articulated, also with hindsight.
Movement protagonists relied heavily on their personal experiences to take
their aspirations forward. Their touchstone was the pueblada, the spontaneous
mobilisation of masses of people seeking to collectively run their own afffairs,
determined to confront the repressive state by doing things diffferently and in
opposition to political and economic élites. Such spontaneous collective mobil-
isation gave birth to the notion of ‘disorganisation’ as a movement tactic. By
turning a weakness into advantage, it subtly shaped self-organisation and the
struggle for political autonomy, and it simultaneously conditioned the negotia-
tions with the embattled political establishment and its effforts at resuscitating
the legitimacy of the capitalist state.
39. Holloway 2002b.
40. My PhD research explores these reservations in detail.
41. Bielsa et al. 2002; Bonzi et al. 2006.
42. Greco and Fontecoba 2005.
43. From the outset, social movements benefijited from solidarity by unfunded
university collectives, which often formed in response to this need.
44. Thwaites Rey 2004.
There was also a fourth main leader. Doña Ika, a small and frail looking
woman with health problems, led the UTD in Cornejo, which is part of Mosconi
but fijifteen kilometres away from the centre. She complained about the lack of
guidance from the other UTD referentes, as she was left to lead on her own.
With incomplete primary school level education, and barely literate, her political
training had been life itself. It may well be that other referentes felt as humbled
by her sharp articulation of ideas and political understanding as I was. ‘Pepino’
generally refrained from interfering with the other referentes’ decisions, except
in moments of conflict.
There were hundreds of alternative productive projects through which the
UTD sought to engender a sustainable integral alternative economy. Here, too,
leadership was based on dedication, skill or experience – or availability. There
were also temporary experience-based leadership roles during the roadblocks
and repressions, where individuals took the initiative to organise security, main-
tain order, or organise cooking rotas. This is an important element of ‘decision-
making by consensus’, the dominant form in Argentinian movements of the
period. In practice, the UTD had a multiple, skill – and experience-based leader-
ship that evolved naturally.
Edelman has persuasively argued that research on social movements should
focus less on organisations, ‘which tends to privilege their claims and obscure
less formal processes of political and cultural change, but on the broader “social
fijields” in which organizations operate’.52 The Mosconi UTD’s search for demo-
cratic form and justice is thoroughly shaped by its wider geopolitical and histori-
cal context. Many inhabitants in this oil town remembered YPF workers’ special
benefijits and status-related treatment due to YPF’s national strategic importance.
The UTD leaders, themselves former YPF workers, had been the fijirst to criticise
YPF’s social injustice, but feelings of resentment underpinned politically tense
moments and internal conflicts. YPF’s social and geopolitical hierarchisation in
the provincial department, San Martín, was unwittingly reproduced in the UTD.
The most marginalised strata dominated amongst the benefijiciaries of the work-
fare schemes and made up the UTD’s most militant base in confrontations. But
they would not, despite encouragement, speak in large meetings, and, out of lack
of confijidence, preferred to refer decision-making tasks back to the referentes.
In a province steeped in oligarchic politics, in a socially and ethnically diverse
and highly conflictual border region, facing widespread social misery, with
minds powerfully shaped by both offfijicial and popular religion, the UTD’s edu-
cational task was huge. Their insistence on dignity through genuine and decent
work underpinned their class-based struggle for an alternative future, but also
53. Manzano 2004.
‘disorganisation’ due to lack of formal structures, leave the UTD more responsive
to political change.
The Asamblea in Pompeya also had a clear leader who, after the failures
of horizontalism, resuscitated verticalism. While this was not reflected in the
Asemblea’s discourse, and he did not benefijit from the personal adoration
of Pepino, decision making was concentrated in the hands of Julio, despite
regular weekly assembly meetings where his decisions were mostly approved.
Julio was accorded leadership because of his skills from prior political training
and experience. The Asamblea’s base was politically multifaceted. This was a
genuine neighbourhood assembly born in the heat of struggle, and one of the
few assemblies that whole-heartedly supported the workers’ occupations. Other
activists took on occasional or limited leadership roles. In both fijieldwork-
locations, many people refused leadership positions outright, because of the level
of commitment required, or the individual visibility that made them potential
targets for attacks by opponents.
Dialectics
Polletta suggests that social movements might not have the time to invent new
forms of democratic decision making;54 however, for movements emerging from
uprisings rather than issue based movements, this is irrelevant. Uprisings liber-
ate so much creative energy55 that an intense search for new and better prac-
tices is inherent to self-organisation. The historical convulsions generated by
uprisings change the balance of forces in society and provide emerging move-
ments with more generalisable goals. This is why the social movement litera-
ture, mostly concerned with issue-based movements, is limited in its capacity to
understand these broader collective responses to the crises of neoliberal capital-
ism. Sociological writings on revolution should be more enlightening, here, but
tend to be centred on the revolutionary moment, as opposed to the movements
that precede it or arise from it.
Recognising the centrality of the state to revolution, as the Argentinian move-
ments did, is, of course, crucial. Goodwin writes that ‘those who would radi-
cally transform modern societies must obviously concern themselves with the
state. (If they do not, the state will certainly concern itself with them!)’.56 Yet
the Weberian approach to power as top-down is one-sided and ignores the
54. Polletta 2002.
55. Luxemburg 2005.
56. Goodwin 1997, p. 15.
Conclusion
‘Disorganisation’ as a movement tactic emerged not as a theory, but as a practi-
cal response to the historical ‘disorganisation’ of the working-class by neoliberal
élites. ‘Disorganisation’ had both positive and negative meanings. Positively,
it was seen as a successful tactic to counter repression and to get things done
where bureaucratic institutions failed. Negatively, it functioned as a self-critical
explanation for the movement’s shortcomings: ‘we are doing everything only
half-way’, was one complaint that I heard frequently. These complaints partly
reflected the historical restrictions on turning movement aspirations into real-
ity. The resulting power imbalance accorded the movements the difffijicult task
of negotiating the aspirations of the uprising, while simultaneously attempting
to influence the reconstruction of the capitalist state in ways favourable to con-
tinued struggle. In this process, the importance of leaders and organisation is
rapidly recognised.
The danger of sociological movement leadership typologies is that they focus
on identifying a stable characteristic and fail to take into account the particular
historical formations and processes from which movements emerge and con-
stantly mutate. Similarly, former allies can come to criticise a movement’s prac-
tices for not fijitting with particular ideas, not being sufffijiciently coherent, and
not producing a social revolution. In Argentina in 2001, this might have been a
desire for many individuals, but it could not have been a movement aim, given
the objective historical conditions of the working-class. ‘Chiqui’ confronted such
critiques by saying ‘what people forget is that we are only workers’. It would not
only be unfair, but politically wrong, to treat the UTD and similar groups as if
they were a political party.
Paul Mattick57 observed that the lack of prior working-class organisations
does not prevent organised revolution – as in Russia in 1905 and 1917 – and that
existing reformist labour organisations can be challenged by new working-class
organisations – as in Germany in 1918. The key to the working-class struggle for
self-emancipation is self-organisation: not how quickly, but how best to achieve
its goals.58
The Argentinian working and middle-classes gave birth to these organisational
experiments to confront the neoliberal crisis. It has since inspired and informed
emerging movements in mass popular uprisings elsewhere. For example, activ-
ists involved in the recent 15-M movement in Spain participated in a debate in
the Hotel Bauen, a workers’ cooperative in Buenos Aires, to learn from the new
‘social economy’ developed by Argentinian movements since the uprising. The
main question is no longer whether an alternative ‘social economy’ can exist
within capitalism. It is, rather, that these experiments have continued to exist
in permanent conflict with the capitalist world, but largely because neoliberal
capitalism has not been able to fully absorb or defeat these challenges.
Placido, of the workers’ printing cooperative Chilavert Artes Gráfijicas in
Pompeya, Buenos Aires, was recorded as saying in the debate that ‘utopia and
participation is what moves us forward, because we are tired that it is always the
workers who are the currency for adjustment in all crises and we want to have
the opportunity to make our own mistakes’.59 These productive alternatives, now
some ten years old, are part of a strategy of collective survival. They are strug-
gling, with all the limitations imposed by their condition, to keep experimenting
with new forms of organisation (politically, socially, economically and cultur-
ally), and to make their mark on the global processes of the working-classes’
reorganisation and revolutionary maturation.