This article aims to address a fundamental question for analysts and students of MERCOSUR: what explains the bloc's survival despite its recurrent crises and frequent pessimistic forecasts predicting its collapse? It argues that the maintenance of co-operation after 1999, when the economic and political economy rationale of the project had almost disappeared, is best understood in terms of the convergent strategic interests of MERCOSUR partners. This convergence of interests in the continuity of the regional regime reflects three types of strategic incentives. First, defensive considerations reflecting external forces and a shared sense of vulnerability vis-à-vis the external environment have provided the main motivation for partners to engage in negotiations and attempt to move the process of integration forward. Secondly, the offensive incentives faced by Brazil, given its relatively stronger position within the region have also worked to foster regional co-operation. But besides these power considerations, the sustainability of co-operation has been at least partially assisted by an emerging process of socialisation among executive officials taking place within regional institutions. These processes of increased interaction and enmeshment have reinforced interests in regional integration, giving way to positive incentives to maintain MERCOSUR.

This study is offered as an initial exploration of the complex subject of cholera in the nineteenth-century Caribbean. As such, one purpose will be simply to describe the course of the three cholera epidemics that invaded the nineteenth-century Caribbean. Another more complicated aim is to attempt to measure the amount of mortality that the disease inflicted on the peoples of those islands for which data are available. A third purpose is to examine the reasons why the black population of the Caribbean proved far more susceptible to the disease than whites. Finally, an attempt will be made of Puerto Rico and especially Cuba, where the institution of slavery still persisted.

The assertion that a country is rich, or a government is powerful, is usually followed by some description of what that entails. Conversely, poverty and weakness are not so often explored in all their detail, though they too are complicated matters. Public finance is one point of entry.1 According to Joseph Schumpeter, it is ‘one of the best starting points for an investigation of society, especially though not exclusively of its political life. The spirit of a people, its cultural level, its social structure, the deeds its policy may prepare – all this and more is written in its fiscal history, stripped of all phrases’.

Transitions into democracy: convergence and distinct paths

In mid-1982 Mexico's Minister of Finance, Jesús Silva Herzog, arrived in the United States and announced that his country was not going to continue paying its foreign debt. Silva Herzog's declaration was soon followed by debt defaults in many other Latin American countries, marking the beginning of the region's most serious economic crisis in this century. This crisis involved the partial breakdown of Latin America's financial and trade linkages to the world economy; the cessation of new credit money paralleled an interruption in the flow of capital investments, amounting to a total reversal of the financial patterns of previous decades. (The level of foreign investment, especially in manufacturing and mining, had been relatively high since the mid-1950s, albeit with significant differences from country to country).

The debt crisis coincided, not incidentally, with a convergence of the political trajectories of five of the region's more industrialised countries: Mexico, Brazil, and the three Southern Cone nations of Argentina, Chile, and Uruguay. All five governments – the South American military dictatorships and Mexico's stable authoritarian PRI regime – experienced periods of political turbulence closely related both to the severe economic disruptions and to other domestic and international influences.

One of the remarkable aspects of this 1982 political convergence was that it came after the ‘long decade’ of the 1970s, during which the governmental routes of the five countries had been extremely divergent. In Argentina, for example, instability, militarism and political violence had intensified, starting in 1969; these phenomena then spread to its traditionally more democratic neighbours, Chile and Uruguay.

Latin American fish production has expanded significantly in recent years. Unfortunately, as management systems in the three major Latin American fish producing countries have not developed at the same pace, all three countries now experience problems of overfishing and industrial overcapitalisation. This article examines the distinctive national fisheries development programmes that have led to this ‘tragedy of the oceans’. By comparing and contrasting the Peruvian, Chilean and Mexican management styles, it offers a critical assessment regarding the likely direction of future Latin American fisheries policy.

This article analyses the role of the economic team known as the ‘Chicago Boys’ and of the main political faction in Pinochet's Chile, the ‘Gremialists’, founded by Jaime Guzmán in the Catholic University in 1966. These two sectors of the elite had a common professional and political career and were the principal civilian groups of the dictatorship who developed a long-term political strategy that deeply influenced both the economic and political orientation of the military regime. They shared a long-term power strategy, that was basically defined by the ‘Gremialists’. The article focuses on the role played by ODEPLAN in shaping the economic reforms. It demonstrates that the coherence of the economic model inherent in the implementation of its policies is to be found in the integration of the policies with a political project, articulated by the ‘Gremialists’.

I want to make it clear that I am convinced that the main responsibility for all that is going on in Chile lies not with the military, but rather with the civilian advisors and the whole climate of adulation and servilism that the economic right has created around them, The ideology of the government was born in the most traditional circles of the economic right, disguised under the sign of ‘nationalism’ and shielded behind ‘the courage to declare oneself anti- Marxist’.

One important cultural factor which has contributed to inhibiting regional cooperation and integration in Latin America lies in the intense territorial nationalism prevailing in several of the Spanish-speaking countries. This frequently underrated phenomenon is an outgrowth of the great number of territorial disputes still to be found in the region and the indoctrination of public opinion through the educational systems and the mass media that often accompanies them.1 At least the following disputes can be considered as having greatly affected the international relations of these countries in recent years:

Argentina vs. Chile. The core of the problem (the dispute over three tiny islands in the Beagle Channel) was solved with the Treaty of Peace and Friendship signed in 1984 and ratified in 1985, but it almost led to war in 1978 and was an excuse for intensive nationalistic indoctrination over several years. It generated arms races and military mobilisation, concomitantly frustrating a natural potential for economic complementarity and integration. The territorial disputes yet unsolved are very minor, but distrust will probably linger on for many years.

This article offers a comparative perspective on judicial involvement in policy change in Latin America during the last decade and a half. Drawing on the literature on new institutionalism and the judicialisation of politics, and on case studies from Latin America's two largest countries, we propose a comparative framework for analysing the judicialisation of policy in the region. On the basis of this framework, we argue that institutional structure is a primary determinant of patterns of the judicialisation of policy. In particular, institutional characteristics of the legal system affect the way political actors fight to achieve their policy objectives and the kinds of public justifications used to defend policy reform.

Essays in comparative history are risky ventures. Nowhere has this become more evident than in the literature on slavery. Yet comparisons continue to be made, implicitly if not explicitly. Post-abolition race relations is an area in which comparisons are equally tempting—indeed, virtually unavoidable— and equally difficult to handle. Perhaps by more careful attention to the framework of comparison we can begin to arrive at more testable hypotheses. In this paper an attempt is made to compare certain features of race relations since abolition in the United States and Brazil. The emphasis will be on differences.

This paper bridges the gap between studies of subaltern social movements and elite politics by asking how political and economic elites respond to indigenous mobilisation in Ecuador. I argue that elites have developed a hegemonic project based around three core principles – multiculturalism, economic liberalism and democracy – that serves to incorporate indigenous peoples into the political system while simultaneously excluding indigenous movement demands that would undermine the political and economic sources of elite power. The paper develops this argument around a concept of what I call ‘multicultural market democracy’ based on historical analysis and in-depth interviews with 43 Ecuadorian elites.

Ecuador has emerged as a good case study of the interactions between diasporas and their countries of origin. The recent enactment of external voting rights has mirrored a novel political discourse which emphasises the positive contribution of ‘emigrant brothers’ and their unbroken allegiance to their homeland. Expatriate reactions to these new political developments are at the core of our article, which heuristically reconstructs the social roots and meanings of expatriate participation in the constitutional referendum held in 2008. Questionnaires were simultaneously administered to Ecuadorean voters in nine cities in seven countries. Based on this innovative convenience sample, the expectations and motivations underlying people's electoral involvement and civic participation are explored against the background of transnational connections and attachments. An understanding of voters' involvement on a terrain of symbolic patriotism, identity reassertion and ‘home re-evocation’ – rather than in strictly electoral terms – is advanced. External voting – whatever its impact on domestic politics – should be appreciated as an institutional opportunity for migrants' national identification and belonging to be represented.

It has been traditional for students of the Hispanic world in the eighteenth century to identify the introduction of ‘free trade’ between Spain and her American empire as the cornerstone of the Bourbon programme of economic reform. The reasons which they cite are subsumed with admirable clarity by the preamble to the famous Regiamento para el comercio libre of October 12, 1778 itself: the king was convinced, it explained, that ‘only a free and protected Commerce between European and American Spaniards can restore Agriculture, Industry, and Population in my Dominions to their former vigour.

This article has its origins in a generalized feeling of dissatisfaction with current theories about political development trends in Latin America. It is an early statement of a series of arguments which will subsequently be developed in a forthcoming book.

The veritable explosion of empirically grounded monographs in the last fifteen or twenty years has made the task of producing a synthetic account of Latin American development simultaneously more pressing and more difficult: more difficult because it has made simple explanatory models harder to sustain, and has opened up the accepted historiography to serious and widespread revisionist attack; more pressing because many, if not most, social scientists accept the need to develop a theory of social change which is historically grounded, capable of explaining large-scale social transformations. My concern in this article is with the methodological issues involved in the formulation of an adequate theory of Latin American development, rather than with establishing new facts. There is considerable historiographical controversy over many of the events discussed in this article, and in these cases I have made my own judgement about where, on balance, the evidence points.

In comparison to some illegal enterprises whose operations generate decisive moral rejection on the part of the public, vehicle theft remains an illicit underground activity that citizens largely tolerate or even exploit. In the province of Buenos Aires, the persistence, depth and breadth of transactions related to this black market cannot be explained without referring to the role of the state police. This article uses a theoretical approach to illegal police protection in order to understand the complicity between the police and criminals as fundamental to the market for stolen cars in the province. Using data from in-depth interviews and official documents, the article examines how exactly the police protect thieves, dismantlers and distributors of cars and/or auto parts. It analyses three elements that condition the sale of illegal protection to criminals by the police: threats and selective implementation of penalties; control of consequences; and bureaucratic falsification.

Concern over the fate of the rain forest and peoples of Amazonia has inspired a renewed interest in the extraction of natural products from the region. Accounts of the Amazon Rubber Boom (1860–1910) are of particular interest in view of the dominance of the rubber industry during one of the most influential periods in the region's history as well as the continuing economic importance of wild rubber extraction to thousands of Amazonian households today. For many observers, the organisation and performance of the wild rubber industry – then and now – provides a good illustration of extractive industries in Amazonia.

Conscription and resistance to it can tell us much about state–society relations in Mexico in the 1940s. The state's implementation of conscription was obstructed by limited bureaucratic and coercive capacity, and by the continued political autonomy of the regions. Popular protests and the hundreds of petitions sent to the central government provide a glimpse of popular views of the army, state, nation, notions of respectability, and the family. The extent of both violent and more ‘loyal’ resistance to the draft shows the continued vigorous contestation of state policies by Mexican society at different levels, and it illustrates the limits to the popular legitimacy of the central state.

This article explores a paradox at the heart of New Left populism in Bolivia and Ecuador – namely, the election of populist leaders in movement societies. Employing Laclau's theory about the emergence of populism, it demonstrates how social movements, not charismatic leaders, first constructed the popular identities that laid the foundations for these regimes. In re-examining theories of populism in light of these cases, this article suggests that populism's transformative and counter-hegemonic potential needs to be given renewed attention, and that the central role of charismatic leadership should be qualified in terms of the origins of populist identity formation.

As I get older I give more importance to continuities, and try to discover them under the appearances of change and mutation. And I have reached the conclusion that there is only one great continuity: that of blood.

Class structure never entirely displaces other criteria and forms of differentiation and hierarchy (e.g. ethnicity, gender, lineage) in the constitution of social identities and in prompting collective action. Class as a concept and as a point of reference is linked to these other criteria; often it is subsumed in them, thus contributing to the definition of the different groups' forms of expression and of their insertion into the social totality. But class does not eliminate these other criteria nor the identities deriving from them, nor can it preclude the relative autonomy derived from their specificity, as they define loyalties and oppositions which frequently cross over class boundaries. The relevance of these criteria in Latin America is even greater since the society's class profile is less sharply defined because of the lower level of development of market relations and urban industrial capitalism.

Several studies have pointed to the importance of ruling families in shaping the socio-economic structure of Latin American countries, their political institutions and their cultural life. Prominent families have been considered the axis of Latin America's history from the last part of the colonial period until the beginnings of the present century – and until even more recently in some countries. Interestingly enough, these historical studies have contributed to a better understanding of one of the features most frequently discussed in today's sociological studies of Latin America: the weak or inchoate differentiation between public and private life and between collective and individual action.

Throuhout the first decades of its independent life Mexico lived under the fear of a repetition of the scenes of 1810. The destructive force of Hidalgo's masses was a sobering thought for many, but a temptation to others. How could a political aspirante avoid thinking that those masses might be used to overcome his enemies, and still remain a pliable instrument in his hands? The difficulty lay in the fact that it was necessary to stop before the snowball effect of mass arousal started operating. Admittedly, this effect would not have been at work if political leaders had been able to develop reliable methods of social control over the masses, as happened rather early in many a South American case of caudillismo. In the event, in Mexico this was accomplished by Juárez, probably aided by the pervading militarization brought about by the civil and internaitonal wars, and subsequently taken up by Díaz.

Drawing upon 40 life-history interviews with gang members in Medellín, Colombia, this paper argues that many young men join gangs to emulate and reproduce ‘successful’ local male identities. The accumulation by the gang of ‘masculine capital’, the material and symbolic signifiers of manhood, and the accompanying stylistic and timely displays of this capital, means that youths often perceive gangs to be spaces of male success. This drives the social reproduction of gangs. Once in the gang, the youths become increasingly ‘bad’, using violence to defend the gang's interests in exchange for masculine capital. Gang leaders, colloquially known as duros or ‘hard men’, tend to be the más malos, the ‘baddest’. The ‘ganging process’ should not be understood in terms of aberrant youth behaviour; rather there is practical logic to joining the gang as a site of identity formation for aspirational young men who are coming of age when conditions of structural exclusion conspire against them.